#yeah the psychiatrist was like “oh your fine the last ocd thing you had was during lockdown” dude thats just the stuff my mum could seE

[everydaygremlin]

why is the OCD OCDing again. dam.

[dovechim]

it’s okay, that’s love 01

➾ water polo player!jimin x psychiatrist!reader ft the rest of bangtan

requested by this anon 

➾ warnings: mentions of mental illnesses (depression, anxiety, ocd, split personality disorder etc), self harm, angst, fluff, smut 

➾ word count: 8.3k

➾ Summary: People are constantly making some kind of connection with each other- be it friendship or romance. But human bonds always lead to messy complications; commitment, sharing, driving people to the airport, letting them get up close and personal with the darkest parts of ourselves. And sure- it’s scary as hell to watch them cross those boundaries you’ve so meticulously drawn, but it’s okay, because that’s love.

➾ disclaimer: this is purely a work of fiction and i do not claim to be a qualified mental health professional. this work is not intended to provide any medical advice of any sort, please consult a licensed physician instead. 

a/n: so this is it! my attempt at starting a series that deals with slightly more touchy and sensitive topics. please do not ask me when the next update will be out, check my updates page instead!!  tagging my favourite people to scream with @blueagust and @yoongihime and @jheartseok thank you for being so lovely and enduring supporting me no matter how much i rant to you <3 

It’s your 10th hour straight on your feet, and your morning shift has evolved into an evening one without your knowledge with no sign of ending anytime soon. There’s an ache that settles into your shoulder blades and your neck makes the most grotesque cracking sounds when you rotate it.

“How are you doing this evening, Mr Seung?” The bright smile on your face that you greet all your patients with is not dimmed by your fatigue.

“Ah, I’m alright today Dr ______,” the wizened old man gives you a fond smile, and the concern in his eyes turns into a nonverbal reprimand when he picks up on your physical state. “Why are you still here? I thought you were on the morning shift today.” 

“I’m just doing my last rounds,” you reach over to tuck the bleached white sheets around him more securely, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth at his chiding tone. When his mock glare doesn’t let up, you pat his hand gently with a laugh. “I’ll be out of your hair after this- I promise!! At this rate people would think I’m your patient instead.”

You reach for the clipboard at the end of his bed and check the last entry made just that morning, taking note of the lowered levels of Ambien. “Are you sleeping okay at night?”

“It’s much better now, don’t worry dear,” he says with a wistful smile. “I still see her sometimes- only in my dreams now- but it doesn’t hurt. And she doesn’t ask me to go and see her anymore.”

You check the bandages on his wrists thoroughly. “You’re doing great Mr Seung. If the dreams come back, be sure to tell me okay?”

“I will, but… it’s just... if the dreams stop, will I forget her? If I don’t see her anymore, what if I forget how she looks like?” His voice is lowered and there’s a certain shakiness to it. 

“Mr Seung, your wife is doing well, I promise. And you won’t forget her, you know why?” You close your hand over his and bring it up to his heart. “Because she’ll always be in here, and she would want you to live your best life. So you have to hurry and get better.”

He accepts your words with genuine relief in his eyes, and his head reclines back against his pillow. You reach over to adjust it more comfortably beneath his silver head of hair before dimming the table light next to him. 

“Goodnight, Mr Seung. See you tomorrow.” You let yourself out of his private ward, closing the door gently. 

You head for the reception to drop off the latest updates for Mr Seung, and your fellow resident Sejeong sidles up next to you, peering over her shoulder for a glimpse of the other cute resident, Kim Taehyung, who’s a million percent idiotic and zero percent cute, at least to you.

“He’s not here,” you mumble in slight amusement before Sejeong nearly topples over the counter.

“Ugh,” her bottom lip sticks out in a pout as she slouches in disappointment. “How am I gonna make it through the rest of the night without him?”

“I’m sure you’ll manage somehow,” you scribble off the last note on your clipboard before replacing the pen in your pocket. 

“Wait, speaking of, why are you still here? You know morning shift means you get off at 5pm right?” Sejeong narrows her eyes at you.

“I know- it’s just, Irene sunbae–nim asked me to take over for the final rounds, and since I had time to kill before a consultation tonight…”

“What consultation?” Sejeong glances over at the whiteboard up on the wall behind the counter. “There’s nothing scheduled past 8pm.”

“Oh, this was last minute, they had to reschedule and Taehyung couldn’t fit them into his slots anymore, so I offered to do it for him.” Reaching back to hide your limp, greasy hair into a bun, you avoid Sejeong’s raised eyebrow.

“_____-ah, don’t you think you’re overdoing it a little? I know we’re supposed to be first year residents and all… but there’s such a thing as a work life balance, y’know?” 

“I’m fine, honestly. I don’t need you to mother me around,” you roll your eyes mockingly at her, but Sejeong knows there’s no venom behind your words.

“Just remember there’s something called food, bitch, and you need to ingest it every 4 hours or so.” She retaliates with a pinch to your side before she’s called away by one of her patients who is currently throwing a fit over mealtime.

“Likewise, bitch.”

* 

“Hi, how are you feeling today? Is there anything I can help you with?” 

The pink-haired boy in front of you looks a little uncomfortable as he squirms in his cushioned seat. Within the first five minutes of entering your consultation room, he’s already run his fingers through his hair six times, but you do admit that if you had such fluffy, silky hair, you’d be touching it all the time too. He fidgets with the sleeves of his oversized lemon yellow sweater, tugging them to cover his hands. His almond-shaped eyes wander around the room restlessly, and he scratches the back of his neck.

“Um, firstly, I’m sorry about the sudden reschedule, something came up and I-”

“Don’t worry, it’s not a problem at all,” you smile warmly at him, glancing down at his info sheet in your file. “Park Jimin, right?”

“Y-yeah. I feel so horrible about making you see me this late at night,” he looks genuinely torn as his shoulders slouch in regret. “It’s just- a friend made an appointment without telling me, and I tried to cancel it but he practically blackmailed me into coming.”

“Oh,” you fold your arms on the desk. “Why would your friend do that?”

“He says he used to see you for regular sessions a while ago, and that you were really good.”

“Really? What’s your friend’s name?”

“Min Yoongi.”

You chuckle at the mention of the name. “Ah, Min Yoongi, tough as rocks on the outside, and he’d rather die than let anyone know about that soft side of him. Was a tough nut to crack, that one.”

Jimin’s features light up in agreement, and his smile makes his eyes disappear into adorable crescent moons. “Exactly! When I first met him, he asked me if I’d gone through puberty yet.”

“He asked me if I left a panda facial mask on by accident.” 

Jimin breaks out into giggles, and when he laughs he throws his entire body into the single action, curling up into himself on the seat and attempting to cover his mouth with those sweater paws of his. His laughter is intoxicating and infectious at the same time, and he looks so carefree and childlike. 

His laughter dies down after a little while, and you’re almost sad to see it go. “Jimin, do you know why Yoongi made this appointment for you?”

A crease mars the space between his brows as Jimin ponders for a few seconds. “Honestly, I don’t think so. I think it was just one of his pranks that he felt like pulling-”

Your stomach suddenly makes its demands known in the form of loud gurgles, and your hands immediately go to your abdomen. It occurs to you that you’d had nothing to eat all day other than a few cups of lukewarm coffee and a hasty bite of a sandwich. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry, this is so unprofessional-”

His eyes widen immediately at the sound, and he looks so remorseful that you feel even worse about your errant stomach. “No, no, it’s my fault for asking to see you this late, and for wasting your time too!”

“Wait, you’re not a waste of time at all, Jimin, I was just too busy to eat all day-” 

“Tell you what,” Jimin leans forward in his seat, placing his elbows on the desk. “Since there’s nothing wrong with me, we can cut this appointment short and I can take you out for dinner.”

“Um…” You hesitate as you scan over his info sheet. His chin is propped on one of his hands, and he’s staring at you so intently that you have to admit that despite his rounded cheeks and cutesy looks, this man is fully aware of his masculine charms and not afraid to use them at all. 

“C’mon, it’s a Friday night, and it just seems like such a pity for a pretty woman like you to be cooped up in here listening to me talk about my non-existent problems.”

Damn. He’s smooth with his words as well, even though you know at least half of his statement is a bald-faced lie. You sigh deeply and reach to undo your greasy, messy bun, entirely in a dilemma. Yoongi isn’t the type to fuck around with something like this, there must be something up with Jimin if he felt the need to arrange an appointment on his behalf, but you’re both experienced and perceptive enough to know that you’re not going to get anything out of Jimin like this either. 

And let’s face it, you’ve had one of the longest days in your life, and you’d give just about anything for a good steaming bowl of ramen right about now.

“I guess that doesn’t sound too bad,” you admit grudgingly, and he springs up from his seat immediately.

“Great, let’s go!”

Jimin leads the way to a hole in the wall ramen place just about two blocks away from the hospital where you practice, and if you hadn’t been holed up with your residency for the past year, you’d know about this place sooner. 

The piping hot noodles is like a soothing balm for your aching joints and muscles, and you nearly moan in relief the moment you sip the rich, creamy broth. The chunks of buttery, fatty pork slices just about melt on your tongue and before you know it, you’ve devoured your entire bowl.

Jimin is staring at you with what seems like amusement etched on his features, toying with his own noodles with a pair of chopsticks held with ease between his fingers. You wipe your mouth in mortification.

“Sorry, I don’t usually have such bad table manners.”

“That’s a relief, I was just about to walk out of here and never see you again,” he grins while licking his lips before taking a sip of hot green tea. 

“So, Park Jimin, tell me about yourself, who are you, what do you do, y’know, the works.” 

The corners of his mouth turn down in a mock grimace. “I wasn’t aware that this was just another relocated consultation session.”

“It’s not, just take it as… a pretty woman trying to get to know you at a ramen place,” you blush slightly at using his words from earlier, but the lighting of the booth is dim, and you play it off by taking a sip from your tea cup. 

“Well, I’m a semi-professional water polo player training for the national team, I’ve been playing ever since I got into the sport in college. Used to be an art major, but let’s be real, that shit doesn’t pay. Not like water polo does either, but at least the hot body comes with the job.” He leans back in his seat casually as he says this, and for a moment you wish he wasn’t dressed in such loose clothing so that you can admire his physique that he boasts so confidently about. 

“Wow, water polo huh? Can’t say I have much enthusiasm about watching 20 men drag each other underwater for a ball.” 

“It’s 7 aside, for your information. Would your interest be peaked if I mention that we wear two layers of swimsuits in case one rips due to foul play?”

You wince in response, and the mental imagery that plays itself in your head is traumatising. “Um, not really. Can’t say I have much experience there either.”

Jimin bursts into a full-bellied laugh. “What if I said above mentioned swimsuit is only a pair of tiny swimming trunks?”

“Got me there. Half naked, wet men are my kink.” You blush in embarrassment when you realise the lack of filter of what you’ve just said, but Jimin doesn’t seem to be fazed or surprised, giggling with his hands over his mouth. “How do you know Min Yoongi?” 

“Oh, Yoongi-hyung? We met in college. We continued living together after graduation, along with a few other guys from college.”

“I see,” you hesitate, licking the rim of your teacup as you watch him set his chopsticks aside and lift the bowl to his mouth. “Do you know about his… issues then?” 

“Not entirely, I do know about them but not in detail. Hey wait, isn’t there something called patient confidentiality? You’re not a quack doctor are you?” Jimin’s voice is muffled by his huge bowl, but he sets it down and eyes you with a teasing smirk.

“First off, smart ass, patient privacy is more appropriate in this situation, and secondly, I didn’t divulge anything, yet.”

“Fair enough, so I guess I won’t be getting anything else out of you?”

“Nope,” you click your tongue against the roof of your mouth and give him an innocent smile.

“Well… your turn then. Tell me about yourself.”

“There’s not much actually…” you bite your lip in thought. It’s been ages since anyone has even asked you a question like this, you’d spent the last decade of your life buried in books before working yourself to the bone to pay off all those college debts. You can’t remember the last time you’ve been out on a date, even though this is most definitely not a date, or even met someone new. “Studied medicine in college, decided to specialise in psychiatry, and so… here I am. Quack doctor who allowed her patient to take her out for ramen.”

He raises an eyebrow at you. “That’s it? C’mon, I must have talked for like 10 minutes straight about myself, and this is all I get in return?”

“I’m better at listening than I am at talking. Comes with the job, I might say,” you quip in return, shrugging nonchalantly. A yawn surfaces from the depths of your fatigue, and you cover your mouth halfway through it.

Park Jimin only laughs in response. “C’mon, let’s get you home old lady. Can’t have my quack doctor passing out in a ramen place.” 

He foots the bill, which you argue with him vehemently over, eventually giving in noncommittally when he says you can treat him the next time. Jimin offers to call you an Uber back to your house, but settles on walking you back to the hospital when you tell him that’s your current living quarters for the past year already.

“What? What kind of a shit life is that?”

“It’s called a residency for a reason. It’s not so bad when you get used to it I guess. And every night when I get back to my room, I’m so tired that I just fall asleep the moment my head hits the pillow.” Rubbing your eyes wearily, you stop at the entrance of the hospital, turning to him as the doors slide open.

“I guess this is it then, goodnight, _____.”

“Hey Park, wait. You have to promise me that you’ll reschedule a proper follow-up session with me okay? Just… just to be sure. Or else I’ll really feel like a quack.” You tack on the latter part of your sentence just as an excuse, but he seems to buy it.

Jimin waves your seriousness away, until you grab the arm of his fuzzy yellow sweater firmly. “Alright, I promise, Dr Quack. But I have a tournament coming up so I might not be that free for a while.” 

“I’m at your beck and call, Park. Just hit me up whenever.”

*

“Hey, didyoueatbreakfastyet?” Taehyung mumbles incoherently through a mouthful of toothpaste and you flick the towel around your neck at him. 

“Rinse, then spit.” You reach for your own toothbrush in a Hello Kitty cup, alongside a whole row of other cups of toothbrushes and squeeze out some toothpaste. “And no, I’m running late this morning, got a new out-patient after morning rounds.”

“You sure you’re in a state to see patients like that?”

“At least I can just wash my hair. I think you’ll need some favours from the cosmetic surgery department, want me to cash in some for you? I think Yeri owes me-” 

“Geez, good morning to you too.”

The ward is already buzzing with activity as you start your shift, checking the roster duty board at the reception only to discover that the senior fellow Irene has unloaded her morning rounds onto you again. Sighing in resignation, you reach for the pen in your pocket and start clicking it on and off as you move into the patient wards.

“Hi Mr Seung, how was breakfast today?” 

The elderly man greets you with a cheerful smile as always, and as you supervise the nurses running a few tests on him and update his chart, he’s content to chatter away at how excited he is for his grandson to be visiting him later that day. When everything seems to be in order, you smile at him and adjust his bedding before telling him that you’ll see him again at lunchtime.

Your phone beeps with a reminder that your out-patient appointment starts in 15 minutes, so you power through the rest of your morning check-ups as fast yet as thoroughly as possible. When you’re finally back at your consultation room, a tall, blonde haired man is already waiting outside. 

“Kim Namjoon?” The man looks up when you call his name. “I’m so sorry to keep you waiting, please do come in and have a seat.”

Namjoon settles himself rather awkwardly on the seat opposite you as you reach for his patient file and briefly flip through it. “So, you were referred to by your general practitioner to begin out-patient treatment for… obsessive compulsive disorder?”

“Y-yes.” He scratches the back of his neck and fiddles with his fingers, and your attention is drawn to the dry, peeling skin of his hands. His entire body language screams of tension even as he’s perched on the edge of his seat, as if trying to touch as little surface area of it as possible. 

Your eyes soften at the sight of him looking so uncomfortable, and as you reach out to touch his hand, he visibly grimaces and pulls away. Namjoon reaches to take off the black framed glasses that are perched on his nose and polishes it with a soft cloth that he retrieves from his pocket as if to calm himself.

“Namjoon, we’re going to start some behavioural therapy during our sessions okay? We’ll be working on the cognitive aspect in order to try and override your impulses to constantly wash and clean things.” Giving him a warm smile, you place your hands palm up on the desk. “I’m going to need you to touch my hand.”

He gives you a hesitant look. “Um, did you wash your hands?”

“Yes, I did, but I can sanitize them in front of you if you’d like.” A look of relief passes over his face, and he nods gratefully. Squeezing a dollop of gel sanitizer onto your hands, you rub it into your skin before extending your touch again. This time he places his fingertips in the middle of your palm with much less hesitation before withdrawing again.

“That’s a great start, Namjoon. Just keep in mind, baby steps okay? It helps if you constantly remind yourself of the reason why you want your treatment to go well.”

“Well… I want to get better so that this… habit doesn’t interrupt my daily life anymore. It’s kind of inconveniencing the people who live around me and I don’t want to be a burden to them anymore. Th-that’s why.” Namjoon pushes his glasses up higher on the bridge of his nose delicately.

“Okay, but let’s try not to think of it as being a burden to others yeah?”

“But that’s what it is,” he looks down at his lap, picking imaginary pieces of lint off the fabric of his denim jeans. “I just hate seeing that look of concern on their faces when they look at me, as if this… disorder is all they can see. And I want to get better too, but it’s hard and I feel like I’m constantly disappointing them.”

“Be patient with yourself, you’re doing your best. If your loved one or someone you cared about had some issues they were dealing with, you wouldn’t want them to be this harsh on themselves would you?” Namjoon nods slowly, as if he’s digesting your words. “Speak to yourself as if you were speaking to your best friend, or your family. Would you hurt them like you’re hurting yourself?”

“No, I wouldn’t,” he says and a hint of a smile finds its way onto his lips. “It kinda makes sense now. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, that’s what I’m here for. See you next week.” 

You stop by briefly at the cafeteria for a sandwich which you swallow down, more to fill your stomach and prevent yesterday’s events from reoccurring, than for the taste itself. Sejeong is lingering by the counter gossiping with some of the ward clerks, and you slide in right beside her. 

“-one hot piece of ass, he is.”

“Wait, who is this we’re talking about?” You flip through the charts that are on the counter, ones that indicate that the respective patient needs attention.

“Kim Taehyung.”

Ugh. You roll your eyes at her.

“C’mon _____, you’ve been friends with him since forever haven’t you? Can’t you do me a solid and just introduce us?” 

“Trust me, the only thing that guy is good at is making 3 minute ramen in 1 minute.” The flipping of pages does nothing to muffle her exaggerated groan, but you ignore her and continue reading off the comments on the charts.

“What’s the use of having a friend with a hot guy best friend if she doesn’t let you tap that every once in a while?”

You reach to chuck a clipboard at her, but she dodges it with her quick reflexes. “I can’t believe it, is that all I am to you?”

Sejeong shoots you an imploring gaze followed by puppy eyes as she latches herself onto your arm. “Awww c’mon, you know I love you, remember I bought you those shoes that one time?? And it totally helped you get laid that time don’t even deny-” 

Clapping a hand over her mouth, you turn to Seulgi, one of the ward clerks. “Did a patient by the name of Park Jimin call to reschedule an appointment, by any chance?”

Seulgi frowns as she looks over the records for that morning. “No, was he supposed to? Should I contact him for you?” 

“Oh, no it’s okay, I’ll just do it myself. Thanks Seulgi!” With one last playful glare at Sejeong, you turn and head off to finish the rest of your morning rounds.

*

Jimin buries his nose deeper into his pillows, frowning at the sudden flurry of action coming from outside his room. He blearily checks the time on his phone before getting up leisurely to head for the bathroom, peeking an eye open to see Yoongi arranging his messy blonde hair in the mirror.

“What the fuck Yoongi-hyung? What are you doing up so early?” 

“Watch your language kid.” Yoongi has never been a morning person, and for him to be up before noon on a Saturday is rarer than a blue moon. “Appointment. Speaking of, you did go to the one I made for you yesterday right?”

“Yes hyung,” he mumbles sleepily, stumbling back into his room and ready to drift off into sweet slumber again as he hears the apartment door closing in Yoongi’s wake.

Seeing you for therapy used to be a pain in his ass, but now Yoongi actually looks forward to it, and god forbid if anyone should know. So he can only put on his grumpiest expression as he knocks on your door and waits for your response before entering and settling himself down opposite you.

“Good morning, Yoongi! How have you been?” Your bright, cheery smile is just a tad more than he can handle at this time of the day. 

“Awful, you just had to give me a slot before noon didn’t you?” He rubs his eyes and gives you a little yawn. 

“Duly noted, I’ll reserve my nights for you every month from now on okay?” You know well enough by now that his cynical quips and sarcasm is more for show than for anything else, so his comments just bounce off you harmlessly. “We agreed last time to slowly wean you off your anti-depressants right? How was it this month on a lower dosage?”

“It was okay, I guess.” It’s hard for him to talk about his feelings so openly like this, but he knows it’s for his own good. Yoongi fights the urge to insert as many scathing remarks as he usually does. “Some days are great, some days not so great, but I’m doing the best I can.”

“And that’s enough, Yoongi. Some days you’re allowed to just lie around and do nothing.” You watch him as he avoids eye contact with you, staring down at his lap instead. It took you a long time to get him to open up to you, weeks of frustration and cold, stony silence. He’d once been your most difficult patient, foisted on you by all the other residents and fellows who’d long ago given up on him. “How’s your mixtape coming along?”

“I’m almost done with it, it helps sometimes. When I’m working on it, it feels like there’s finally something I know how to do well. And then things aren’t as scary anymore.” Yoongi visibly perks up at the mention of his mixtape, and the spark in his eyes that accompanies the subject of composing or music looks so much better on him than the hollow, overcast shadows under his eyes.

“Well, seems like you’re doing fine then, I’m really proud of your progress,” you scribble down an adjustment for his meds. “Oh by the way, Jimin told me you were flatmates, is there a particular reason why you made that appointment for him? Jimin said it was just a prank.”

Yoongi rolls his eyes in response. “Do I look like I have that much time on my hands? No, it wasn’t a prank. I was just… worried about that kid and I thought he should see you. Wait, didn’t he attend his session yesterday?”

“Um… yeah he did but it kinda went off schedule a little. I told him he should see me for a reschedule but he said he had a tournament this week and so…”

“You should come.”

“What?” 

“To his match, see him play. It’s next Sunday afternoon, he’s a really talented kid if I do say so myself.” Yoongi rarely ever gives compliments, but when he does you can be sure its credit where credit is due. “I think you might get a better insight to him this way too.”

“C’mon, no one hates the sun more than I do, and that’s an exception with you around. Can’t you just tell me what’s up with that kid so I can just treat him from the comfort of my consult room?” You whine at the thought of spending more than five minutes under the sun, even if it is watching wet half-naked boys play around in the pool. 

He only smirks as he stands from his seat, heading for the door. “Nope, that’s your job isn’t it? I’ll send you the deets, make sure to turn up.”

*

The layers of sunscreen you’ve slathered on are starting to feel greasy on your skin, but you’d rather withstand the oily slick than get burnt. The swimming pool is a foreign place for your pasty skin, so when you show up rather grudgingly, the sheer number of people present, along with the constant wails of the loudspeakers, overwhelms you a little.

Yoongi told you to meet him by the pool, but joke’s on him because this entire place is called the pool so he really should have been more specific, and no you’re most definitely not blinded by just how much naked skin there is being paraded around in this place.

Thank goodness for the invention of sunglasses.

You’re trying to squint past the glaring rays of the sun and it’s hard to pay attention to where you’re going as you slam straight into a hard, warm, tanned wall of muscle.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” 

The person in question steadies you with hands on your shoulders, and your gaze is immediately drawn to the toned firmness of his chest right at eye level. “My pleasure beautiful, are you alright?”

It dawns on you that he must be one of the players since he’s also half naked, and you tear your eyes away from his golden chest only to be met with doe eyes and messy brown hair barely concealed under his navy water polo cap, strings dangling by his ears.

“U-uh yes I’m fine! Actually, you’re one of the players right? Do you know where Park Jimin is by any chance?” 

The handsome, half naked stranger flashes you a grin with a little scrunch of his nose. “Of course, he’ll be in the locker room getting ready. I can take you to him, follow me!” 

You’re just contemplating exactly how wise it is to enter a locker room full of skimpily clad men when Yoongi and Jimin emerge from its depths, thankfully.

“_____! You’re here!” Jimin’s eyes light up immediately when he sees you, and he bounds up to you like an excited little puppy. He’s sporting the same navy water polo cap as the stranger you bumped into, tugged over his ears and the strings tied under his chin. And he definitely wasn’t lying about his physique the other day, his tiny little swim trunks ride low on the carved v shape of his hips and reveal the rock hard ridges of his abs. “And you’ve met Jeongguk already?”

“Oh yeah, he offered to bring me to you guys, since, y’know, someone was so specific,” you narrow your eyes at Yoongi, but he only shrugs innocently. 

“_____? To what do we owe the pleasure of such beautiful company?” Jeongguk’s eyes trail down over your figure, taking in your outfit of a crop top and denim shorts with a cocky smirk and wandering eyes.

“That’s noona to you, brat.” Yoongi hits him over the head, and Jeongguk winces as he shrinks away even though he must be at least twice the older man’s size. 

“Yoongi asked me to come watch you guys play, and he’ll buy us a round of drinks after no matter the result.” Yoongi gives you the stink eye, but Jeongguk only reaches out to slap him on the back.

“Damn, I think I like you already noona,” Jeongguk winks, but he’s interrupted by the sound of a whistle blowing.

“Yoongi-hyung, _____, we’ll catch you later okay! Gotta go for warm-ups before Seokjin-hyung kicks our asses,” Jimin grabs Jeongguk by the ear and tugs him towards a broad shouldered, tall brunette dressed in sweats and surrounded by what must be his team.

Yoongi ushers you toward the stands and you snag a pair of seats with a good view, but your eyes are still fixed on Jimin and Jeongguk huddled with their team for a last minute strategic meeting. “So, what are the rules here?”

“Foul play is off limits unless it’s underwater where the referees can’t see them, otherwise it’s fair game. This entire thing is just like captain’s ball or soccer but in water. The game is divided into four 8 minute periods. Most goals at the end wins.” Yoongi looks disinterested as his eyes skim over the calm surface of the pool, but he’s infinitely more knowledgeable than you are.

“8 minutes only? That seems really short.”

“There’ll be timeouts that can be called by either side. But yeah, generally it’s that short because it’s an incredibly demanding, stamina intensive sport, since players aren’t allowed to touch the bottom of the pool at all, they have to tread water at all times.” The whistle blows, and the blue capped team enters the water with a series of splashes. At the opposite end, the opposing team is clad in white caps.

As soon as they enter the water, you lose the ability to distinguish them from each other. Jimin’s pink hair is concealed under that water polo cap, and all of them have similar, muscled physiques. Players from both teams line up on either side as the referee prepares to throw the ball into the centre of the pool.

“They all have a number on their caps, Jimin is 6 and Jeongguk is 2,” Yoongi informs helpfully even though you didn’t ask, but your eyes zero in on them immediately.

The whistle sounds, and the bright yellow ball is dropped into the middle. Both sides immediately surge for possession of the ball as they sprint towards it. Jeongguk’s frame is easily one of the largest on the team, and he cuts through the water with a swiftness and speed that’s remarkable for his size. Jimin is more agile, though his speed is not lacking either, but he hangs back behind Jeongguk as he grabs the ball a split second ahead of his opponent and tosses it easily to Jimin. 

The gameplay is intensely violent, with physical scuffles here and there, but it seems to be within the rules since there’s no fouls declared. Jeongguk elbows a few defenders out of his way as he swims to make a pass, strikes that are dangerously close to vulnerable eyes and mouths. The players move with both speed and agility, and incredible endurance as they constantly change positions in both attack and defense.

“They’re doing pretty well,” you comment as Jimin scores a goal and the team celebrates with a rowdy splashing of water and cheers.

“Hmm,” Yoongi isn’t convinced as he folds his arms pensively. “Just wait a little more.”

The ball goes back to the opposite side and Jimin cuts through the water towards it, heading straight for the other player who currently holds the ball in one hand. The white capped player is of larger stature than he is, but Jimin doesn’t hesitate as he jumps straight into a physical scuffle with him for the ball, and his teammates start swimming toward him to assist. Grunts and shouts sound over the splashing water, and Jimin’s aggressive growls drown out the other player’s shouts for help as he smashes his head into the other player, causing the struggle to cease at once.

The whistle sounds immediately and the referee orders Jimin out of the pool. But Jimin continues to struggle and scuffle with the other player despite orders for him to stop, and it takes a few of his own teammates to restrain him and drag him to the edge of the pool.

“Wh-what’s happening??” You shoot to your feet as you squint for a better look, spotting a trickle of blood emerging from under his navy cap as Jimin is manhandled by Seokjin to the sidelines. Gameplay has paused as the other injured player seeks medical attention. 

“It always ends up like this,” Yoongi sighs as Jimin continues to argue and even attempt to punch his own coach. “He has trouble controlling his aggression in gameplay, and it always spirals out of control, leading to him on the bench for the rest of the time. Out of the water he’s the sweetest boy ever who wouldn’t even hurt a fly, but in the pool…”

“Oh,” you stare, transfixed as Jimin is pushed roughly towards the bench, and another player takes his place in the water. The whistle is blown and gameplay starts again. “What if this is just an anger management issue?” 

Yoongi shakes his head doubtfully. “I don’t think so… it can’t be that simple. We’ve tried getting him to go for anger management classes but… he doesn’t seem to remember doing anything wrong, and he isn’t able to acknowledge his violent behaviour.”

You watch the pink haired boy pull off his cap and throw it onto the ground with a wet slap, running his hands through his wet tresses in frustration that’s etched clearly onto his face. He watches the game in the water with balled fists and a clenched jaw, and once or twice Seokjin has to physically restrain him from jumping into the water again.

“So doc? What’s your diagnosis? He’s mentally insane right?” Yoongi turns to you with a joking tone, but his dark eyes betray his genuine concern and worry.

“I’ll have to see him for more sessions before I can say anything for sure.” Biting your lip, the rest of the game passes as your attention is completely riveted on the boy on the bench.

Jeongguk scores the winning goal just shy of the final whistle blow and your area of the spectator stands goes wild in victory, leaving you and Yoongi seated. The players indulge in a celebration by throwing Seokjin into the water, causing him to sputter and mock threaten them with extra reps during the next gym session, but they all join him in the pool anyway.

You leave your seat and head towards the edge of the pool, jaw clenched in determination even as your heart aches to watch Jimin all alone on the bench while his teammates celebrate.

“Wait, _____ where are you going?” Yoongi stops you with a hand on your wrist, and you whirl back to face him.

“To talk to Jimin.”

“Don’t be impulsive, you’re better off leaving him alone. Usually after an episode he needs to be alone to cool down. Jeongguk tried to talk to him once and got a black eye for it.” Yoongi tugs firmly on your wrist, and despite his small stature, his grip is firm and unrelenting. “Trust me, you don’t want to be around him right now.”

“Alright… I guess,” you reluctantly let him lead you toward Jeongguk, who’s currently trying to outdab one of his teammates, unable to tear your eyes away from the lone pink haired boy with his knees tucked to his chest on the bench.

*

“Thanks for meeting me at such a short notice, Mr Kim.”

“Please, call me Seokjin.” The tall and broad shouldered water polo coach smiles at you from across the table. “And don’t mention it at all, I should be the one thanking you, especially if you can help our Jiminnie in some way.”

“I’ll do my best,” you smile tightly back at him. “I have some questions about his behaviour, and since you’ve been his coach ever since college, I thought it’d be best to approach you.”

Seokjin nods while taking a sip of his iced coffee. “That’s right, ask away.”

“How long has this been going on?”

“Ever since he started playing the sport,” Seokjin pushes his drink away with a sigh. “He’s really talented- definitely has the potential to go international, maybe even the Olympics, but with how he’s acting up, he gets suspended more times than he gets to play. He hardly ever lasts a full game.”

“Do you know anything about his past or history before he started playing water polo?” You type his comments quickly into your tablet, trying your best to keep up.

“Not really, although I do know that he has a tendency for violent and self-destructive behaviour. He was suspended in college for getting into fights and even almost joined a gang, until the school counsellor suggested that he channel his anger and rage into a sport instead. And that’s how he ended up with me.” 

“I see, this is very helpful, thank you so much.”

Seokjin adjusts the pink cap atop his head as he watches you type notes, and he eyes you with a hopeful expression. “I really do hope you can help him, _____. Jimin is a good kid, I know it, and I’d hate for his talent and passion to go to waste.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll do my best,” you reassure him. “Oh and one more thing- have you or any of the team players tried to talk about his behaviour with him? I was informed that after he has an episode, he prefers to be left alone.” 

Seokjin shakes his head. “Like you said, he’s too violent to be approached after it happens, and I have a hard time making him stay seated on the bench while waiting for the game to end. In the past we’ve tried to discuss his behaviour in the following days, but he doesn’t acknowledge it.” 

“Doesn’t acknowledge it? Can’t, or won’t?” You prod further, watching the coach’s expression grow pensive in thought.

“I don’t know, ______. Once I tried to force him into owning up to his behaviour, thinking that it was just some teenage rebellion but it triggered another violent episode and a few of our team got hurt trying to stop him. Ever since then we’ve kind of just let it go every time so that training can proceed and everyone can get on with their lives.”

Making sure to get every last word down into your notes, you let the silence settle in between you and Seokjin amidst the bustling café as you try and digest all the information.

“It’s probably for the best to avoid any direct confrontation with Jimin about his behaviour for now lest it triggers another episode,” you advise him as you close your tablet. “The cause of his behaviour might stem from a lot of possible sources, such as repressed trauma, be it in childhood or teenage years. I won’t know for sure till I get the chance to observe him more closely.” 

Seokjin nods in understanding as you stand, and he pushes back his chair as well. “Thanks again, _____. Feel free to call me if you have any more questions.”

As you bid him goodbye and walk out of the café, your phone buzzes in your pocket insistently.

2.06PM [Kim Taehyung]: can u come home asap? 2.06PM [Kim Taehyung]: there’s sort of a small situation 2.07PM [You]: what situation??? don’t tell me u put aluminium foil in the microwave again 2.07PM [You]: taehyung. is our house still standing 2.07PM [You]: ???? 2.08PM [Kim Taehyung]: yes 2.08PM [Kim Taehyung]: but we might have a bigger problem than that

“What do you mean evicted??”

Your landlady, a middle aged woman sporting a horrible 80s perm and decked out in leopard print pants, folds her arms and glares. “Evicted. Kicked out. Meaning: go find somewhere else to stay.”

“Wait, all just because this idiot here,” you switch your glare over to Taehyung, who’s currently busying himself with checking the mailbox- which is empty for god’s sake- “just because he didn’t pay rent on time once?” 

“Uh, actually-” Taehyung’s small voice pipes up.

“Oh it’s not just rent alright,” the landlady says as she shoots him a withering glare, prompting him to shut up immediately. “There have been numerous complaints from the neighbours about the noise level over the past year, and yesterday one of them filed a police report.” 

“But- that’s not possible,” your racing heart slows down upon hearing her accusation. “This must be a mistake. That’s entirely impossible, since we’re first year residents we spend almost all our time at the hospital, even sleeping over on weekdays so there’s no way those complaints could be about us, unless-”

“It’s on the weekend,” Taehyung supplies helpfully, his cheery expression immediately dampening once your scowl is redirected his way.

“But I barely even come home on the weekends either-” Realisation dawns upon you as you register the guilty look on Taehyung’s face.

The landlady crosses her arms in indignation. “If it was just partying or drinking, I could tolerate such rowdy behaviour, but unfortunately it was due to events of a more… sexual nature.”

Fucking Kim Taehyung. You’re going to kill him the second you get him alone. He might have been your best friend ever since high school, but right now if you walked past him on a street and he was burning to death, you wouldn’t have any qualms about strolling past without a backward glance.

“C-can’t you give us one more chance?” Taehyung recognises the look of death upon your face, and being very familiar with your quick temper, decides that he’d rather face the wrath of the landlady instead.

“Eviction is final. Between that and your constant late rent payments, that was the last straw. You have two weeks to move out.” Her tone brooks no argument, and she turns around to head back to her apartment, leaving you and Taehyung stranded on the balcony. 

“I can’t believe this, you just got us evicted because you couldn’t keep your fucking dick in your pants,” you whirl around to grasp him by the ear, pulling hard. “And I even reminded you how many times that it was your month to pay rent?” 

“Ah babe, I’m sorry- ow!! Look, I promise I’ll fix everything okay? You just head back to the hospital and I’ll take care of everything here.” He offers you his signature boxy grin that’s meant to reassure you, but instead achieves the opposite effect. “Hey, don’t you have a patient in like 20 minutes anyway?”

“Fuck, what time is it?” You whip out your phone to check. “We’re not done here asshat, just wait till I get back and deal with you.” 

*

You arrive back at the hospital panting and sweating under the sweltering summer sun. As Yoongi had promised that day after the match, Jimin is waiting patiently outside your consult room just on time, his hands buried in the pockets of his jeans as he paces up and down the hallway. You apologize and quickly unlock the door with your pass, gesturing at him to take a seat.

“I’m so sorry I’m late Jimin, did you wait long?” You grab his patient file, which still pathetically empty, from its neat, organised row on your shelf.

“Don’t worry about it at all, I didn’t wait that long,” Jimin grins at you as he watches you flip open the file. 

At the sound of his bright, cheerful voice, you pause to look up at him, and take in his overall appearance. His hair is freshly damp, taking on a darker pink hue as it lays over his forehead and his cheeks are rounded and full as he smiles at you, his plush lips stretched into a pleasant grin.

He’s so different from the aggressive, violent boy you saw that day at the pool.

“Yoongi-hyung said you wanted to see me, so here I am. Although, if you wanted to see my handsome self so badly, you could have just asked me yourself. I would’ve definitely picked somewhere else for our first date.” Jimin scoots his chair closer to the desk with a grin.

A smile makes its way onto your lips at his effortless charm. “I’d have picked that ramen place for a repeat performance, but unfortunately my schedule is full today.”

“Ah, there’s always next time right?”

“Maybe,” you say noncommittally. “Jimin… you remember what happened on Sunday right?”

“Sunday?” He pauses to ponder for a while. “Oh, we had a game that day!”

“That’s right,” you swallow hard before taking a deep breath, gesturing to the small bandage on his forehead. “Do you remember how you got this?” 

“Um, not really, but I’m always like this after a match. I just sleep the entire day off after, and the memory is kinda fuzzy in my head. Jeongguk told me we won though.” Jimin picks up on your slightly distressed expression and frowns. “Why, is there something I should know? Is there something wrong with me? Did I get injured and lose my memory?”

“No!” You rush to calm him down as his tone increases in anxiety. “You’re perfectly fine, Jimin, I was just asking as a standard question.”

Jimin relaxes slightly at your words but his bottom lip remains trapped under his teeth as he worries at it. “Then what is it? There must be something wrong with me if I have to see you like this right?”

“Firstly, Jimin, there’s nothing wrong with you, so please don’t ever think that.” You make eye contact with him for a few long seconds, not allowing him to look away and avoid you in order to convey how serious you are about this. As he meets your gaze, you smile at him in order to set him at ease a little more.

You hesitate with your next words, considering his overreaction and tendency to jump to conclusions. He also seems to be displaying several signs of general anxiety, and you wouldn’t want to alarm him unnecessarily, especially since you’re still unsure of his actual diagnosis. “I was just talking to your coach, Seokjin, the other day and he seemed to think it’s a good idea for you to attend a few counselling sessions. To learn how to deal with stress as an athlete, particularly.”

He accepts your explanation easily. “Oh I see. Seokjin-hyung really worries about me these days.”

“Yeah, he really wants you to make it to the national team, Jimin. Isn’t that what you want too?” 

“I do want that, I want to do well and make everyone around me proud,” he gives you a small smile as he runs his fingers through his hair.

“You, will Jimin. As long as you promise to keep seeing me, you’ll do really well.”

“Okay, I promise.”

that’s it!!! for the first chapter at least, i hope you liked it!! i will try and maintain a regular update schedule, once again please check my updates page for more information <3

addie

[canaryatlaw]

Okay, well today was better than yesterday, and I was in a significantly better mood for most of the day, although I'm back to being slightly irked now with no real logical reason (you know, other than the obvious). But yeah. Woke up, ate breakfast (fucking cocoa pebbles not nearly as good as cocoa krispies) and caught the bus to work. Tbh I don't remember that much of what I did for the morning because I kind of ended up napping for a full hour....more on that later, though. I think I was mostly just sourcing stuff and building the timeline for the TPR prep. See, the issue with the sleep thing is like, I can't just push through it. I can't control my eyes closing. And I also can't fucking type. Like it takes me twice as long to type something because every other letter is wrong. I did 30 minutes then tried to get back to work but it wasn't happening so I did another 30 and I can get away with this because I'm an intern and for the most part nobody cares what I do. I took a lunch too because fuck it, I don't care. The interesting assignment of the day came in the afternoon from my boss, she wanted me to watch a VSI (I know I defined that yesterday but I'll be nice and do it again, it's victim sensitive interview) because her computer wasn't sound equipped or whatever and mine was because of the prison calls, lol, so she wanted me to transcribe it verbatim for her. The thing was only 13 minutes long, but obviously took me substantially longer to get through because I can't type on a PC in real time conversation, lol, so I ended up pausing after each line to type it, then generally play it back to make sure I got it right. I ended up with like 13 pages of transcribed notes, so like one per minute of the video. A couple things here. One, I'd never actually watched one of these before, so I didn't really have a context for it. Two, I had no idea what the circumstances were going into this interview- if the girl had made an outcry or what had happened (I'm avoiding giving details for obvious reasons when discussing child sex abuse) but I finished it with the impression that there had been an incident. Then my boss comes back and explains she had read the detective's notes and he said there wasn't gonna be charges and it didn't seem like there was anything there, which of course was not at all what I got from it. Apparently going into it wasn't based on an outcry but a weird hotline call that the little girl had been saying sexually explicit things in school but they unfounded the report as just nothing. So I of course relayed all of this to my supervisor, and she said she'd have to watch it now haha but had my notes as well. So that took me about to the end of my day. I had a 6:30 PT appointment because it was the only one available, and after last week's fiasco I knew there was no way I would make it on time if I took the bus, so I ubered, figuring I should have just enough time to get home, change, and go right back out. Uber was in a price surge so I ended up paying like, double the normal rate (ugh) for it but whatever. I liked the driver a lot, he said I was actually his first customer because this was his first day driving for uber haha so I was like okay, hopefully this will go well! But we started talking and I went into the cases and the reforms that have been populating the news (the more recent child death case that supposedly prompted the DCFS director into reforms that I was ranting about the other day had been pretty widely reported so he brought that one up) and I told him about my case and the ridiculous can't make this shit up facts of it all. And of course we talked the random stuff. We took the street my street is off all the way up because it's pretty much a straight shot, like the bus I take to work and back, except that one goes a few blocks over then shoots down. It had a fair amount of traffic, but I had tried to allocate enough time to make sure it was okay and I arrived at my apartment just at 6:10 which was perfect, I ran in and got changed and did a few other things then came back out at 6:20 to walk over for my 6:30 appointment. While I'm almost there, I get a call from a Long Island number, so I'm like okay, I answer it and it's my psychiatrist that I've been playing phone tag with for two weeks now. Of all the shitty timing!! But I knew because of my mental state lately I did have to have this conversation now, so I ended up standing outside the therapy place on the phone for 15 minutes while motioning to them that I'd been in as soon as possible. It was a good conversation though, I'm glad we had it, and it was definitely necessary. Apparently the deal with the phone tag was the secretary or whoever would take down my message that I needed him to call back, but somehow in there my name got substituted for my mom's, so he ended up calling her repeatedly and trying to figure out what was going on before someone realized OH, it's the daughter who's in Chicago and not Long Island, lol. So that made me feel significantly better than my messages weren't being deliberately ignored. So I told him my exams were over and my anxiety was through the roof, with the Xanax not helping. Then he asked about my sleep, and suddenly the light bulb in my head clicked on and I went OHHHHHHHHHH, YOUR MID MORNING NAPS HAVE BEEN BECAUSE YOUVE BEEN INCREASING YOUR XANAX DOSAGE YOU FUCKING MORON and suddenly that made a lot more sense. He asked some questions about describing the mind racing thing and asked if it was like hyper, and of course I knew where he was going with that so I said it definitely wasn't manic (because it's not) but more just anxiety based. So we ended up swapping out one of my regular meds for what I believe is the generic version of Zoloft, and he said to do whatever with the Xanax since they weren't helping anyway, so I'm gonna cut down on them a lot lol cuz I can't live like this. I do think I was on Zoloft at one point in high school and it wasn't terribly helpful, just one in a long line of antidepressants tried that resulted in a "meh" result, but the circumstances here are fairly different now that I'm on several meds and I have the Wellbutrin to actually treat depression, the Zoloft can potentially help the anxiety, which was definitely not really present in high school or even when I started with my psychiatrist back in 2012 (thanks, law school). I mean, it had started before law school, but that's what's really exacerbated it of course. Hey, it got my brother an OCD diagnosis after 22 years of only ever having super small tics like re-walking out of a room every so often. So hopefully those meds will get things figured out and it'll be better. So I finally got off the phone at 6:40 and of course was now very frustrated because I hate being late, but we just jumped into it instead of doing warm ups so it was fine. I keep getting asked if I'm feeling an improvement in pain, but the answer continues to be about the same, and in fact after PT it almost definitely hurts. It was actually bugging me at work today too, which isn't typical. But we had a good session anyway. Afterwards I walked across the street to Walgreens just because I wanted to grab a type of melatonin I know works for me to use as a control test for the Xanax- to make sure that's the thing that's throwing it off, not being unsure if it's the melatonin. Come home, get some dinner together and start Arrow. I wasn't totally thrilled with the episode given the plot was pretty weak, but it was of course strengthened greatly by the presence of Katie Cassidy and Katrina Law (though I would've liked more than 30 seconds of Katrina). Can I just talk about Katie Cassidy's acting skills though? I'm amazed as to how she's adopted completely different personas to the point where you can tell "who" she's supposed to be just by looking at her- that Laurel, Black Siren, and particularly black siren pretending to be Laurel, but not resembling either in any significant way but an entirely new image. I'm just like damn girl, that's intense. So things are set up for the final battle now, which has to happen on Lian-Yu because everything fucking happens on Lian-Yu, and I'll admit it does seem like it'll be a pretty epic showdown given everyone they've brought in on both sides. Back to that non-existent plot though- like really Oliver? Really??? That had to be the worst plan in existence of plans. You just handed him over and what, expected him to just let everyone go and go skip off into the sunset? Like dude, come on. That was really fucking dumb. So then it's just Oliver and fucking Malcolm, who has somehow managed to stay alive for another season, much to my annoyance. The moment with Nyssa coming in was pretty epic though, but I really hope they told her that besides her sister they were also facing off with E2 Laurel because those two got pretty damn close in season 3 and that could definitely throw her for a loop. Also, why the fuck had they not told Quentin at this point??? Like that was really dumb because you left him super vulnerable to exactly what happened. So yeah, I suppose I'm looking forward to the season finale, mostly for my two homegirls, but hopefully the rest of it will be good too. A tweet on my timeline reminded me that designated survivor was about to come on just as I finished Arrow, so I turned that on to watch live since I knew it was the season finale. Can I just say damn, I love this show so much??! It's so freaking well done in an era of totally overdone dramas, and of course this had the potential to do some incredibly shark jumping being that they blew up the entire government as the premise of the start of the plot. They've handled it really well. I think most of the episode was good and full of action, though I was sad to see Jason is actually dead (I mean, I think we knew he was, it just wasn't formally confirmed). I loved the scene between Kirkman and the reporter, because you can just tell how much respect the reporter gets from him because of how he handled the meeting, and I'm just left thinking whoever handpicked Kirkman as the designated survivor obviously massively underestimated his ability to be an incredible leader of our country. Damn what I would do for him to be our real president right now.....sigh. The speech was great and super satisfying, but I'm also watching the clock because I KNOW they have to leave some sort of cliffhanger disaster to predicate season 2 on, and of course that happened with them basically being like "we're fucked, they're fucked, everyone's fucked" which sounds like a fairly good premise to me. After this I watched Brooklyn 99 which was of course fucking hilarious. After that I got ready for bed, but for some stupid reason when I'm you know on autopilot for my routine I took the morning pills left in my "Tuesday" box instead of the evening pills in the "Wednesday" box (because I refill every Tuesday night) and took the wrong meds, then said well fuck, but my best bet is probably taking the meds I should've taken right now (none that should really interfere with the first) and just skip my morning dosage. And then tomorrow afternoon I can pick up my prescription for my new med so my body is just gonna be a psychopharmacological mess for the next 24 hours but hopefully it won't have any really bad side effects (it really shouldn't) (I'm also very impressed that psychopharmacological is an actual word and I didn't have to just make it up like I normally do when I want to use a form of a word that doesn't exist). Andddd it's past 1 am. I get to arrive at 9:30 tomorrow since we're going straight to a visit, so that'll be nice, assuming I don't fall asleep on the bus again like I did last time 😑. Anyway. Goodnight my little loves. Hope you had the loveliest of hump days.

[dovechim]

it’s okay, that’s love 02

➾ water polo player!jimin x psychiatrist!reader ft ot7 ➾ warnings: mentions of blood, mental illnesses (depression, anxiety, ocd, split personality disorder etc), self harm, angst, fluff, smut ➾ word count: 9.5k ➾ please read part one first if you haven’t!

01 | 02

➾ disclaimer: this is purely a work of fiction and i do not claim to be a qualified mental health professional. this work is not intended to provide any medical advice of any sort, please consult a licensed physician instead.

➾ summary: you’ve always managed to keep your work and personal life strictly separated, but new housemates means that boundaries are crossed, defences are raised and feelings are hurt. maybe kim taehyung is right after all- but that doesn’t mean you’ll ever admit it. 

“I just don’t get it,” you slouch over the couch in the break room, not caring if your coat gets wrinkled underneath your weight. “I just don’t understand any of this.”

“I know right, how can someone lack that much compassion?” Taehyung wrestles with two packs of ramen noodles as he empties them into the pot of boiling water and replaces the lid. “Ugh I’m so craving a chicken burger from Burger King right now but I swear Irene sunbae is literally guarding that door.”

“What? What are you talking about?” The smell of piping hot instant ramen stirs your appetite and persuades you to get up from the couch and make your way to the table. 

Taehyung pauses as he lifts the lid to crack two eggs in. “Wait, you weren’t talking about her? Then who- oh! Our landlord? Yeah, I can’t believe she kicked us out over my sex life…”

At the mention of your currently evicted status, you reach to hit him square on the forehead with the back of your spoon, satisfied when it makes a loud thwack and he flinches in pain. “No, I was talking about Park Jimin, my newest patient. He just seems like such a sweet, innocent boy but yet he’s capable of such violence… It just doesn’t make any sense.”

“You know what they say, it’s always the quiet ones,” Taehyung leers at you as he reaches to uncover the pot of steaming noodles and begins to dig in.

You open your mouth to tell him that he can go fuck himself, but he somehow manages to stuff an entire chopstick’s worth of noodles in and it burns your tongue, but succeeds in getting you to shut up for at least 5 minutes.

“Anyway, I have a suggestion,” Taehyung says in the midst of a mouthful of noodles.

Indulging in a mini duel with him over the last egg yolk, you don’t bother acknowledging him as you concentrate on successfully scooping it onto your spoon without breaking it.

“Aren’t you gonna ask me what it is?”

You narrow your eyes at him, but choose to humour him anyway. “What is it?”

“You should go see him at practice. I mean, most of his aggression manifests during games right? So maybe you should observe him at ground zero, y’know what I mean?” He takes a sip from his coffee cup.

You take a moment to seriously consider his suggestion, and you have to admit that it does make a lot of sense, which you weren’t expecting. “Wow. You’re actually capable of saying something useful for once. Thanks, Tae.”

“That’s so not true, I say useful things all the time, like- oh speaking of, Jimin was the one who rescheduled that time right? He was originally supposed to be with me.” Taehyung stands to carry the pot to the sink, and you follow him to toss your chopsticks in as he starts the tap to wash up.

“Yeah, why?”

“You sure you can manage an extra patient on top of all those that you have? He sounds like he’s gonna take up a lot of your time, especially if you need to take time off from your shifts to go see him.” Taehyung shoots you a concerned look as he reaches for the dish soap. “Maybe you should pass one of your other patients to me. How about Namjoon, the out-patient?”

“I don’t know, won’t Irene throw a fit or something? She said no transferring of patients amongst ourselves. Sejeong almost got kicked out of residency for doing that in her first month, remember?”

“It’ll be fine, besides, I think she’s even more likely to get on my case for having a lesser workload than the other residents. It’s not really switching, per se, and his case is simple enough for me to handle.” 

You’re a little hesitant to agree to this, although Taehyung is right and you could really do with one less patient. Your schedule right now is completely filled to the brim, but all those years in med school and internships you’ve learned to get used to a hectic work life with almost no personal or social life, so it doesn’t really bother you. Work is life, life is work. It’s simply the fate you chose when entering med school, and it’s something you’ve accepted long ago. But you wouldn’t want Taehyung to get in trouble either for having one less patient than the rest of you, especially since your residency period is so close to being over. 

“Okay, I guess, I’ll leave his stuff on your desk later,” you reluctantly agree.

*

“Noona! What brings you here?” Jeongguk greets you in surprise with his white shirt almost halfway over his head as he disrobes for the start of training, so his voice comes out a little muffled.

“Oh, just thought of dropping by since I had a free afternoon,” you casually lie to him; you had to beg and plead for Sejeong to take over your afternoon rounds for the day.

“Jimin-hyung will be so excited that you’re here- JIMIN-SSI!!!” He bellows in the direction of the changing rooms as he tosses his white shirt onto the steps of the spectator’s gallery.

“Wait, don’t call him over, I don’t want him to know-“

Too late. Jimin comes bounding out of the male changing room, already stripped to his training attire of swim trunks. He scans your general direction for a couple of seconds, eyes narrowed against the harsh glare of the sun before he spots you and Jeongguk on the steps and jogs over with a grin on his face.

“_____, you didn’t tell me you were coming!” He reaches the step below you in an instant. 

“Oh, I um…” you’re trying to come up with a believable excuse as to why you’re here, but your brain goes blank at that moment. Maybe it’s because of the unrelenting sweltering heat of the midday sun, or the fact that the square inch area of exposed bare skin has just doubled upon Jimin’s arrival. 

You really need to desensitize yourself to all this semi nudity. 

“I just wanted to observe you for a bit,” you finally say lamely, and Jimin’s eyes widen in realisation. 

“Oh, did Seokjin-hyung ask you to?” His enthusiasm seems to die down a little, evident in the way his grin fades a little as he contemplates that you might be here on purely professional grounds only, not to see him. 

You give him a muted nod in response, heaving a sigh of relief when Seokjin emerges from a distance away and gathers everyone with a blow of his whistle and the threat of extra laps around the pool.

As the team starts their warmup exercises, you duck back under the shade and pull out your tablet, running through your previous notes to refresh your memory. After a while, Seokjin sets up a practice game within the players and joins you on the sidelines.

“_____, thanks for coming.”

“Oh, it’s no problem. I just wanted to, y’know, observe him in his element, at ground zero, as we would call it.” A smile crosses your face when you use Taehyung’s self-coined term.

“And how is it so far?” He peers towards the pool, keeping an eye on every movement, every pass that the players make.

“Nothing unusual to report so far, unfortunately,” you watch the players toss the ball back and forth across the length of the pool. “He seems like a really great team player, doesn’t hog the ball and passes well to others, yet still manages to display individual tenacity and strength that makes up a good portion of the overall team’s effectiveness.” 

“Wow, that was really accurate,” Seokjin turns to you with an impressed look on his face. “I’ve been training that boy for years now, and I couldn’t have said it better myself.”

“I can see why you’ve never given up on him after all these years. He really does have the potential to show so much more than what I saw at his last game.” You watch as Jimin playfully dunks Jeongguk’s head under the water after effortlessly scoring a goal. “And this is off topic, but Jeongguk stands out a lot too.”

“Yeah, he’s what we call the centre, kinda like the equivalent of a quarterback, mainly due to his size. That boy is a beast, has been one ever since college even though he’s the youngest on the team. He’s like our golden boy, with him we’ve never lost a match before. Imagine if Jeongguk and Jimin could play a full game together…” Seokjin releases a deep sigh.

“But he seems okay today,” you turn to him. “Jimin, I mean. He hasn’t had an episode yet, even though the other side has gained possession of the ball quite a few times already. That’s what set him off last time, right?”

Seokjin shakes his head. “It only happens during official games. During practice matches he’s absolutely fine, no trace of foul play anywhere.”

Violent behaviour is not tied down to a particular external trigger. You look away from the gameplay in the pool to type this observation down before returning your attention to the pink haired boy in the pool roughhousing with his teammates, except with an overjoyed grin on his face, not a ferocious, malicious glower.

Seokjin allows the boys a few more moments in the pool before he wraps up the training session and dismisses them. You remain in your seat deep in thought till you realise that Jeongguk is trying to get your attention from the shallower side of the pool.

“Noona! Noona, come quickly, I think Jimin has a cramp!” Your eyes fly over to Jimin’s thrashing form slightly further away, and your heart skips a panicked beat.

Seokjin is nowhere to be found, having long ago disappeared into the changing rooms. You abandon your tablet and bag on the stands, keeping your eyes firmly on the pink head of hair as you approach the side of the pool.

You’re two steps away from diving in yourself, not even pausing to question why Jeongguk looks so calm with his best friend almost drowning not even a metre away from him. But then you notice something strange- this part of the pool is shallow enough for Jimin’s feet to touch the ground, and it looks like only the upper part of his body is struggling, which means-

SPLASH! Jeongguk grabs the backs of your knees and pulls, causing you to fall face first into the water if he hadn’t caught you in his arms. Still, you sputter as his arms surround your waist and he pulls you close to his body, your legs kicking feebly as you gasp and cough. 

“J-jeon Jeongguk!” You screech at him in fury as you push and slap at his chest, and he lets you go with a howl of laughter.

A few paces away, Jimin is almost doubled over in laughter as well, clutching his sides in the water as he wades towards you. He places his hands on your shoulders as he grins at you with pure unadulterated elation. “_____, are you okay?” 

“NO,” you spit out the heavy taste of chlorine in your mouth. “I haven’t been in a pool since like high school, and you just broke my record. I was gonna call up the Guinness Book of Records tomorrow, but I guess that won’t work now.”

Jimin only collapses into more peals of laughter as his head lurches forward, resting on your collarbone as he giggles. 

“Ah, I can’t believe you fell for that, noona,” Jeongguk has a smug little look on his face. “Oh, since you just happen to be in the pool, Yugyeom bets that I can’t beat him in a chicken fight.”

“You can’t, dickhead!” A blonde haired boy at the other end of the pool yells out immediately upon hearing his name. 

Jeongguk rolls his eyes. “And he’s right, I can’t win in a chicken fight against him, not with all these fat asses on the team.” He shifts his gaze toward Jimin playfully, but his head is still buried in your neck. 

Suddenly, your cheeks grow hot as you realise how intimate the two of you look, so you gently push Jimin away, putting some distance in between.

“But I can win if it’s you, noona,” his tone is imploring, doe eyes wide as he tugs on your hand. “Please just help me out this once, if I lose Yugyeom’s gonna take my character on Overwatch the next time we play!”

“Um… is that a bad thing?”

“Um… duh??” He looks at you as if you have three heads. “Widowmaker is my favourite!!!” 

“Just play McCree then,” Jimin is surveying your less than thrilled reaction, trying to give you an escape from Jeongguk’s insistent pleading.

“But Widowmaker is hotter- and I shouldn’t be listening to a guy who makes his team carry him all the damn time,” Jeongguk shoots back. 

You have absolutely no idea what they’re talking about, and honestly, all you want to do right now is take a hot shower and curl up in bed. Preferably not the one in the resident’s room, but then you remember your current eviction status, and dread courses through you. 

“Fine- if I do this, will you let me out of this damn pool?”

“Wait- really? Yes!! Of course, thank you noona!” Jeongguk’s eyes light up in excitement. “Yugyeom, you little shit, I’m gonna beat your ass today!”

“Wait, who will be paired with Yugyeom?” You watch as Yugyeom approaches your side of the pool, and Jeongguk greets him with an elaborate handshake that involves way too much dabbing, rivalry temporarily forgotten.

Boys. 

“Huh? Oh, Jimin-hyung of course,” he grins in excitement just as Yugyeom’s face falls when he realises why Jeongguk is so confident of his chances, the reason being your soaked figure. “Oh, this is gonna be too easy, noona we’re definitely gonna win this.”

“Wait, you get a pretty girl on your shoulders and all I get is this pink haired elephant??”

Jimin snags Yugyeom’s ear between two fingers, tugging with a pressure that makes him apologise immediately. “I’m still your hyung, brat, and I’m not afraid to choke you with these thighs.”

Jeongguk lowers himself in the water, extending a hand towards you. “Noona, get on my shoulders, I promise I won’t drop you.”

Heaving a sigh, you shoot up a quick prayer for patience and for divine protection as you take his hand, positioning yourself behind him and raising one of your legs to the lowered height of his shoulder and sliding your thigh onto his shoulder. Thank God you chose to wear dark coloured shorts today, although the same can’t be said for your light pink tank top.

With his help, you manage to secure your legs on his shoulders, and he stands to his full height with his hands on your upper thighs providing stability. Suddenly the bottom of the pool feels so much further away, and you can’t help but grip onto the strands of his wet hair, tugging on his scalp instinctively.

“Yah- ah noona,” Jeongguk grunts in pain as he takes a few test steps.

“Ah shit, sorry Kookie,” you immediately let go of his hair, but then you struggle to find somewhere else to place them, feeling as if you’re flailing and floundering ungracefully atop his broad shoulders. 

“Relax, noona,” Jeongguk’s calm voice sounds from below, and you can literally feel the vibrations in his chest from where your calves come into contact with the rest of him. He squeezes your knee in an attempt to soothe you. “Tighten your thighs over my shoulders if you feel like you’ll fall. Here, like this,” he pushes the tops of your knees downwards in demonstration. “Just remember not to squeeze sideways like thunder thighs over there.”

At the mention of Jimin, you glance over to him and realise that he’s already astride Yugyeom’s shoulders, his eyes fixed on where Jeongguk’s hands are resting on your upper thighs, left bare as your shorts ride up. He seems to be perfectly at ease atop the other man’s shoulders, a complete opposite of your ungraceful, quivering form.

“It takes a little bit of getting used to, you just need to wiggle around till you find your centre of balance,” Jeongguk approaches the other pair slowly. “You can hold my ears if you need to noona,” he says in an amused tone.

“It’s okay, I-I’m fine,” you try to do as he says and adjust your position atop him, feeling awkward with Jimin watching you so intently, all traces of his cheerful disposition having vanished from his face upon seeing Jeongguk’s hands on your thighs.

“We’ll go easy on you guys, at least till ____ stops looking as if she’s about to jump out of a plane without a parachute,” Jimin squeezes his thighs together, prodding Yugyeom forward even as the man under him protests.

“Ready noona? Yugyeom won’t last long under Jimin-hyung,” Jeongguk reassures you as he comes face to face with Yugyeom.

Jimin raises his hands in defense, and you copy his actions. “Ready… set… go!!” 

You attack first, reaching forward to make contact with Jimin’s palms and push him backwards. But Yugyeom deftly steps back to avoid you, and you tip forward precariously. Jeongguk rapidly advances a few paces in order to help you keep your balance, and you unconsciously grab at his forehead, your heart in your mouth.

“Fucking coward!” Jeongguk provokes them when he really shouldn’t, not when you’re so wobbly and unstable like this, not when you actually have a teeny tiny fear of heights-

Yugyeom charges forward, and Jimin attacks with a determined look on his face, reaching for your outstretched hands. But Jeongguk stands his ground in the water with his legs braced wide apart for impact, and he doesn’t budge a single inch. His hands slide upwards to grip onto your inner thighs, keeping you firmly in place, and his fingers dig into your soft flesh.

Jimin’s eyes flicker downwards to take in this sight, and once you see that he’s distracted, you immediately go in for the kill. You lean forward slightly, and Jeongguk senses your impending attack, taking a few steps forward, providing the momentum as you push hard at Jimin’s firm, bare chest, catching him off guard. He’s too busy staring at Jeongguk’s tanned fingers grasping your soft skin, and he loses his balance. Yugyeom attempts to salvage the situation by retreating hastily, but it’s too late- Jimin’s center of gravity pulls him down into the water with a splash, and Yugyeom goes down with him.

“Yes!! Widowmaker is mine!!!” Jeongguk slaps the surface of the water in jubilation, showering the two of you in water droplets. The thrill and adrenaline of winning races through your veins, and you find yourself joining in on his carefree laughter as the two of you watch Jimin and Yugyeom resurface.

“Jimin-hyung maybe you should stop bulking and do some cardio- ow okay ahhh I’m sorry I was just joking!!” Yugyeom twists away as Jimin tweaks his nipples harshly, and you feel the laughter all the way in the pit of your stomach, and it aches.

“Jeongguk, you owe me one. Help me get off,” you tug at his earlobe to get his attention.

“Anytime, noona, just tell me where you want me,” Jeongguk smirks, and he never misses a chance at innuendo that’s a fact about him that you know all too well. He crouches down so that you can slip off his shoulders and land safely with your feet firmly on the tiles of the pool.

Across from you Yugyeom is hastily demanding a rematch, citing unfair advantages, Jimin looks moody and slightly annoyed as he heads for the side of the pool. You hurry after him, struggling to wade through the shallow waters since you’ve never been a strong swimmer, worried that he might have another violent outbreak because of this.

“Jimin, wait,” you pant as you reach the wall, glancing around for the stairs that you can use to climb out, but it’s all the way over at the other end. Damn it.

Jimin is already a few paces out of the pool, but he pauses when you call his name and turns around to face you.

“Are you okay?” You ask hesitantly, studying his expression intently for any signs of anger or frustration. But he schools his features into neutrality as he reaches down to grasp your hands and pulls you out of the pool in one swift motion. A little floored by his unexpected action and pure strength, you have to grasp his waist for balance, but you pull away almost immediately.

“I’m fine, why wouldn’t I be?” He sounds a little amused as he watches the red blush spread over your cheeks.

“Oh, um… just asking,” you answer lamely, shivering when a blast of the wind hits. “You don’t happen to have any spare clothes do you? I would ask Jeongguk since he’s mainly responsible for this, but he’s still…”

The both of you look over to Jeongguk who’s still play fighting in the water with Yugyeom.

“Yeah of course! Come wait in our locker room while I get you some stuff to dry off? Everyone’s mostly gone already anyway.” Jimin guides you in the direction with a hand between your shoulder blades.

He rummages in his locker for a couple of moments before tossing you a light blue sweatshirt and grey sweatpants together with a fluffy yellow towel. It’s a little weird to enter the stall next to him and start stripping to rinse the chlorine from your skin, but it’d be even weirder to make things awkward and leave just to go to the women’s toilet, so you suck it up. Similar sounds of water running come from next door, and you try your best not to be too uncomfortable about this as you quickly dry off and squeeze as much water out from your bra as possible. Thankfully the satin material doesn’t absorb much water, so you make sure to dry the surface of the bra cups so it doesn’t soak through Jimin’s sweatshirt and put it on. Deciding to go commando since your underwear can’t be salvaged, you hope Jimin won’t pause to think too much about the logistics of what you’re wearing, or not wearing.

Jimin is already waiting outside while towelling dry his pink hair, fluffing it up with a similar yellow towel draped around his shoulders.

“How does your hair not fade with all that chlorine?” You watch as he styles the cotton candy hued strands of hair with his fingers.

“A lot of bleach, and constant retouches,” he laughs as he glances at you in the mirror. “In fact, I was just gonna ask you if you were willing to help me touch up this month. It’s kinda hard to do it on my own, and Jeongguk always does a shit job at it.”

“What about Yoongi?”

“Yoongi-hyung doesn’t even come out of his room. Sometimes I go like three days without talking to him and I have to knock on his door to make sure he’s alive. But then he just swears at me and tells me to get out.”

“Sounds about right,” you grin at his accurate depiction. Pulling out your phone to check the time, you see that you have three missed calls from Taehyung, ranging from an hour ago to 20 minutes ago and then just 5 minutes ago.

“Hold on, I need to make a call real quick okay?” You say to Jimin before dialling Taehyung back. “What is it?”

“Finally?? Where are you now? Did you drown in the pool or something?” Taehyung immediately answers the call.

“Something like that,” a smile tugs at the corner of your lips. “What did you want? Is Irene-sunbae asking for me? Just tell her that I took an afternoon off, and I’ll be back really soon-”

“No, no it’s not that. It’s nothing to do with work, geez just relax for a second. It’s good news.”

“Every time you say that, I start preparing for the worst, you know that right?”

You can almost imagine Taehyung rolling his eyes on the other end of the line. “No, it’s good news, _____, I promise. I found a solution to our housing problem, and the landlord is really amazing! He said we can move in as soon as possible, so I wanted to ask you to come back to the house to help pack all our stuff and we can start moving in.” 

It sounds too good to be true, but Taehyung has a knack of solving problems you couldn’t in the past. “Really? That’s so amazing, I’m about to head back right now-”

“Drop a pin on your location and I’ll come get you? I’m getting in an Uber right now.”

“Okay, see you in a bit.” You hang up only to find Jimin staring at you, and you raise an eyebrow at him, and he smiles that shy smile of his when he’s been caught.

“Boyfriend?” Jimin can’t help but ask, even though it doesn’t sound like you would be talking to your boyfriend, but he figures this is an excellent chance to find out if you’re single, and he isn’t going to let it go to waste.

“Oh, ugh no,” you wrinkle your nose at the thought of dating Taehyung, not because you didn’t find him attractive, but because you’ve known him for way too long to ever think of him in that way. “Just my best friend who got us kicked out of our apartment last week.”

“Ouch, that’s rough,” Jimin follows as you head for the exit of the changing room, and he can’t help but admire how good your butt looks in his sweatpants. For once he thanks his lucky stars that Jeongguk was distracted and didn’t offer you his own clothes, because seeing you dressed in his oversized sweatshirt does things to him that should be illegal. “You need a place to crash then? But you said you stay in the hospital residents’ room right?”

“Yeah, but our residency is ending soon so we need to find somewhere else that’s a little more permanent. And besides, staying there is so depressing, it’s literally like a hellhole.” You wrap your hair in his towel so that it won’t drip all over your clothes. “Taehyung’s coming to pick me up, but thanks Jimin. I’ll return you these at our next session okay?”

“No it’s okay, take your time,” Jimin watches as you check your phone for the Uber driver’s plate number. He wishes he was as outgoing and charming as Jeongguk to flirt and touch you like he did in the pool earlier, but the notion of you coming here to check up on him as just another patient diminishes his confidence, a problem that he’s never had before. As he waves you goodbye, the thought that you’ll only ever see him as a patient, as someone who’s less than whole, makes his heart sit heavily in the middle of his chest.

*

“Tae, you never mentioned how you managed to find an apartment so quickly,” you wipe the sweat off your brow as you shift the last of the boxes out of the apartment, leaving it empty and bare.

“Oh, didn’t I? I was just talking to one of my patients about how my insensitive landlord kicked me out, and he said he just happened to have extra rooms for rent. Turns out my patient was a landlord too, so everything worked out perfectly!” He grins at you proudly, as if expecting some kind of thanks or praise.

Instead, you frown in disapproval. “Tae, you know we’re not supposed to talk about our personal lives with patients. That’s really unprofessional.”

The move-in truck is waiting downstairs, so he grabs the heavier boxes and starts his way down the steps. “Relax, _____, it’s no big deal. I just wanted to build some rapport with him, and to make him feel at ease a little. He looked really tense and anxious, so I had to talk about something unrelated to take his mind off things.”

“Who is this patient? Is he new?” You unload your box into the back of the truck and climb in, waiting for Taehyung to join you before you knock on the side of the truck to let the driver know that he can set off.

“It’s Namjoon, the one you passed to me.”

You raise your eyebrows in surprise. “He’s a landlord? Wow, that’s really convenient, I guess. You really came in useful this time, brat.” You reach to mess up his hair fondly, which he hates.

“I didn’t want to stay a second longer with that awful demoness of a landlord.”

It’s a little uncomfortable riding in the back with all the boxes of stuff, but the journey isn’t long and the truck pulls up to a small little villa of apartments that sits on a hill. There are two rows of units that flank a row of steps leading to the top of the hill, and the steps are lined with potted plants and flowers that you assume belong to the residents who stay there, giving off a romantic and cosy vibe. The apartment building is decked out in bright pastel colours on the outside, with cute little artworks and decorations scattered all over.

“Wow, this is incredible! It looks like a mini resort getaway,” you comment to Taehyung as he helps you down from the truck. You’d never imagine being able to find a place like this in Seoul. “Wait, how much does this cost?”

“Don’t worry, ____, the landlord gave us a special rate when I mentioned you were my roommate too,” Taehyung starts to unload some of the boxes. “Namjoon-hyung’s really cool.”

“Namjoon-hyung? Tae, you know what I said about getting close to our patients.”

“It’s fine, besides, if I didn’t get so friendly with him, we wouldn’t have been able to stay here!” He scrolls through his phone for the address that Namjoon texted him, and even though you disapprove of his approach and demeanour around his patients, it’s not something you can control. “It’s the 3rd apartment on the left. The existing tenants are in today, so we can just knock.”

You bend down to pick up a box and start heading up the stairs, pausing to prop it on your hip when you reach the correct door and ring the doorbell. There’s a scuffle of feet sounding inside, followed by a male voice of acknowledgement before the door opens, only to reveal-

“Jeongguk?”

“Noona! What are you doing here?” His eyes spot the box on your hip and then widen in realisation. “OH, you’re our new flatmate? Namjoon-hyung said you were moving in today!” 

“Wait, what?? You live here? D-does that mean Yoongi and Jimin also live here?” You almost drop the box in shock at the realisation, and Jeongguk hurriedly opens the gate to relieve you of the burden before you drop it on your foot.

“Yeah, but there’s still plenty of room in this apartment, there’s like 3 unused rooms still,” Jeongguk peers out past you to spot Taehyung struggling with the remainder of the boxes. “I’ll get Jimin-hyung to come help, just wait here a moment okay? Or wait, actually, just come in noona!” 

Every single bone in your body is filled with hesitation as you kick off your shoes and pad into the apartment. The living room and common area is small but tidy, and it’s conjoined to the kitchen area, separated by a dining table with four chairs. Jeongguk sets the box down before knocking on the first door in the hallway, one you assume to be Jimin’s. The second door opens and Yoongi’s head peeks out to find out the source of all the noise, and he pauses just a second when he sees you standing in the living room. 

“JIMIN-SSI!!” Jeongguk’s yell practically shakes the entire apartment as he pounds on Jimin’s door. “He’s a real heavy sleeper, some mornings I have to literally pour ice water on him.”

The door swings open and a sleepy looking Jimin emerges, his eyes half open and with the messiest bedhead you’ve ever seen. His eyes widen comically to twice their size when he registers you in his house, and for an awkward moment, you fidget on the spot with the gazes of three men fixed on you.

Until Taehyung bursts into the apartment and shatters the awkward silence with a shout. “Home sweet home!!”

“Um, Taehyung-” You’re interrupted when he greets Jeongguk with the half hug, half hand clasp that all guys seem to do, that somehow evolves into a dab and the nae nae. They seem to be getting along so well already, and you roll your eyes. “Tae…”

He greets Jimin the same way, although seems to realise that he can’t pull it off with Yoongi, and accords him a respectful bow instead. Satisfied, Yoongi gives him a taciturn nod before disappearing back into his room.

“Taehyung…” You rarely ever use his full name like this, but when you do, he knows it’s serious. So he turns to you with a questioning look on his face.

“What is it? Did we get like the wrong unit or something?”

“We need to talk. Outside. Now.”

Jimin and Jeongguk watch as the two of you step outside for a moment, and Jeongguk starts to follow when Jimin stops him with a hand on his wrist. “Um, do you guys want me to move the rest of the stuff into the house?”

“Just hold up a second okay Jeongguk?” Your voice sounds particularly stressed and a little frantic, and Jeongguk mumbles an “okay noona” and leaves you alone with Taehyung outside the apartment.

“Taehyung, we can’t live here.”

“Why not?”

“Why not?? I’m treating two out of the three people in that damn house, that’s why!! It’s unprofessional, and definitely crossing a line! I don’t care what you said about building a rapport and all, or making your patients feel at ease, this is just too much, I can’t deal with it. We need to find another place.” You run your hands through your hair in frustration when he doesn’t seem to understand how wrong this is, and for the first time, you resent how different your personalities are.

Right from the start Taehyung has always been the more extroverted, easygoing of the two of you, and your friendship started because he saw you struggling with no friends and decided to adopt you as his introvert to take under his wing. The two of you complement each other perfectly, he brings out the best in you and you in him, but at times like this when you disagree about something, it’s definitely a headache.

Taehyung takes a deep breath, placing his large hands on your shoulders in an effort to calm you down, which only agitates you further.

“I’m not overreacting, Taehyung, I don’t need you to calm me down like this,” you start to brush his hands away angrily, but he holds on tight.

“Geez, I didn’t say you were overreacting, _____.” To his credit, Taehyung is the only one who knows how to deal with your temper. “I just thought that it would be better if you could get to observe Jimin in an environment that he’s comfortable in to help you get a more accurate diagnosis. We can still keep work and our personal lives separate, it’s not that big of a deal. Just treat them as patients when they’re in your consultation room, and try to see past their diagnoses at home, okay? Treat them like normal people, _____, cos that’s what they are. Remember we were taught to see people as more than their mental illnesses?”

“Yeah, I remember, and I am doing that, but…” You try to argue back feebly, but there’s no way you can get out of this living arrangement without coming off as one of those doctors who only sees their patients with a huge label across their forehead.

“Good girl, now call Jeongukkie and Jiminnie out to help us with the rest of these okay?”

*

“You must all be wondering why I gathered you here today.” You look at the four men currently seated in a row on the too-small couch in the living room, and they stare back at you blankly.

Yoongi has his trademark annoyed expression on his face for having been rudely jostled out of his nap, and he would have bitten the offending person’s head off had it not been you. Jeongguk is the unfortunate soul to be seated right next to Yoongi’s fuming self, and the broad shouldered golden haired boy curls his frame into himself, trying his best to give Yoongi as much space as possible to avoid pissing him off even more. Jimin has one leg crossed over the other so that his smaller frame fits nicely into the space between Taehyung and Jeongguk, and Taehyung just looks bored, as if he knows what’s about to come.

“We need to set some ground rules in this house, if we’re all gonna be living together in peace and harmony.”

Yoongi grunts in affirmation, which surprises you, until- “Sounds great to me, I’ll start. Number one, no waking Yoongi up, I’ll get up when I fucking feel like it. Jimin and Jeongguk know this all too well already, so this is mainly for the benefit of the two of you.”

You roll your eyes back at him. “I didn’t open the floor to suggestions yet, but fine, we’ll go with that. Since Yoongi started the ball rolling so nicely, I’ll continue.”

“Noona, shouldn’t we be taking turns, like in a clockwise direc-” Jeongguk’s voice trails off as you shoot him an icy cold glare.

Satisfied with his silence, you fold your arms and read off your list that you typed up on your phone. “Firstly, always knock before entering someone else’s room. Common sense, but needs to be said. Secondly, no walking around the house without clothes on. Occupants have to be fully clothed at all times.”

Jeongguk whines at this. “But noona, it’s summer now, and it’s so hot! I can’t wear shirts in the house, and Jimin-hyung always sleeps naked-”

“Non. Negotiable. Or your PC gets confiscated. No more Overwatch.”

“Just go with it, Kook.” Taehyung whispers across Jimin, and for a second you’re a little touched that he would be on your side like this. “She’s like a stubborn little mule who hates carrots, so she can’t be bribed.”

You glower at Taehyung, who immediately sits up straight and acts like he hasn’t said anything.

“Thirdly, if you want to bring… company home…” you pin Taehyung with a pointed glare, letting him know that this rule applies especially to him, “you need to give the rest of us a 24-hour notice. Or else you have to find somewhere else to… wet your stick, or whatever you kids are calling it these days.”

“24-hours?? What the fuck?? Would you like us to submit an application in writing too?” Taehyung springs to his feet in indignation, but Jeongguk and Jimin grab the sleeve of his shirt and pull him back down.

“Just go with it, Tae,” they say in unison, and satisfaction blooms in your chest.

“Great! That will be all for now, and if there are any more rules that I feel need to be implemented, there’ll be another house meeting. As of now, you’re dismissed-”

A knock on the front door interrupts you, but before you can go to answer it, a blonde sticks his head around the front door curiously.

“Namjoon?”

“Uh, yeah hi _____, it’s your landlord, and I just wanted to check in on how you guys were doing with moving in… and stuff.” He opens the door a little wider but remains standing outside, surveying the current mess of a living room that’s crowded with all your boxes.

Taehyung immediately rushes to the door to greet him with a hug, only to have Namjoon wincing in distaste as he pats Taehyung’s back gingerly. “Namjoon-hyung! Thank you so much for helping us out, or else ____ and I would be out on the streets by now. Come in and have a seat!!” 

“Or not,” you mutter, noticing the pained expression on Namjoon’s face as Taehyung pulls away, his eyes taking in all the accumulated dirt and dust that comes with moving in. “Tae, we should really start unpacking if we want to finish by today. We have work tomorrow.”

The relief is evident on Namjoon’s face as Taehyung pulls away reluctantly, and he shoots you a thankful grin. “Well, kids, if you guys need anything, I’m just in the unit upstairs. But call first before dropping by!”

*

It might be strange to live in the same house as two of your patients, but humans are known for their ability to adapt to any situation, so that’s what you do. Adapt. Thankfully most of your days are spent at the hospital, leaving before sunrise and returning well after sunset, so you hardly see much of your housemates for the first week or so.

The quiet lull of the early dawn morning coaxes you back to sleep, but you force yourself to try and remain awake as you apply the rest of your makeup before straightening your lavender lace pencil skirt. As usual, the house is quiet since Taehyung starts his shifts later than you, and you head for the kitchen for a quick cup of coffee before heading to work. But instead of finding an empty kitchen like you do on most mornings, today it’s occupied by two other bickering figures.

Jimin looks at the clock on the wall anxiously. It’s almost time for you to leave for work, and fucking Jeongguk has fucked up the eggs. He doesn’t know how it’s possible for someone to mess up a hard-boiled egg, but Jeongguk surprises him every time. “Jeongguk, I told you the water needs to be salted first.”

“Fuck you hyung, the eggs taste just fine to me- oh noona! Good morning!” Jeongguk is the first to notice you standing awkwardly at the entrance of the kitchen.

Jimin whirls around, still holding a loaf of bread in one hand, taking in your sleepy expression that contrasts with your polished appearance. He takes a second to admire your smooth skin, and wonders how you’d look like without makeup. “Good morning, _____.”

“Morning,” you greet them with an amused smile on your face as you manoeuvre between the two athletes’ bulky bodies to get your cup from the drying rack. “What are you guys doing up this early? Training?”

“Nah, Seokjin never makes us wake up for morning trainings partially because he can’t wake up himself,” Jimin reaches into the bag of bread and pulls out two slices, highly aware of how you have to slot your slim body in between his and Jeongguk’s to reach for the cup you want.

“You look nice today, noona,” Jeongguk takes in your work attire appreciatively, and his eyes are lingering on the tight fit of your midi pencil skirt, that pervert. “I thought doctors had to wear like those awful looking single coloured scrubs.”

“Those are for surgeons, Kook.” The whir of the coffee machine starts up, and Jimin watches as you tap your fingers on the counter while waiting. “I chose this precisely because I wouldn’t have to deal with blood or wear those god-awful scrubs.”

To stop himself from gawking at you like some kind of love struck teenager, Jimin forces himself to concentrate on mixing the chopped up egg whites with some mayo and butter, combining it to form the perfect consistency before spooning it onto some fluffy white bread. From the corner of his eye he can still see you as you sip at your coffee delicately, letting out a pleased sigh when the liquid touches your lips, a sound that threatens to make him relive the memories of his morning wood. He finishes your sandwich and is just about to muster up the courage to turn around and give it to you, but then-

“See you guys, have a good day!” You’re holding your to-go cup and slipping on your heels outside the apartment, about to leave for the day. A fresh wave of panic rises inside him and he’s frozen to the spot, but Jeongguk snatches the sandwich right out of his hands and dumps it into a paper bag, racing up to the door.

“Noona wait, at least eat this on the way!” He holds it out to you.

“Did you wake up early to make this for me?” You raise an eyebrow at him, since usually the two boys always sleep past noon, as far as you know.

“We’re trying to up our protein intake like Seokjin-hyung told us, so we have to eat at least 4 egg whites a day,” Jimin finally manages to stop his seething and follow Jeongguk to the door, although he’s pissed that now it sounds like Jeongguk made this sandwich for you.

“Really? Well thanks, Kook,” you take the bag with a smile and ruffle his hair fondly, sliding your foot into your other shoe and unlocking the gate.

Jeongguk shoots him a triumphant smirk and turns around to head back to bed, and Jimin sees his chance.

“_____, wait.” Jimin hastily stuffs his feet into his slippers, eyes still barely half open against the morning rays of light as he follows you down the steps. “Can I walk you to work?”

“No.”

“Why not?” He pauses on the step above you, and he hates how his voice sounds so small and defeated already. His hopeful expression dims, deflated by your outright rejection.

“Because doctors don’t let their patients walk them to work.” With that, you turn around and continue heading down the stairs, leaving Jimin staring at your back with a bitter taste in his mouth that definitely isn’t the eggs.

*

Were you too harsh with Jimin this morning? You let out a frustrated sigh as you bury your hands in the pocket of your white coat, heading for your morning rounds.

Try to treat them like normal people, ______. Taehyung’s words resurface again in your mind, and it feels as if he’s reprimanding your cold behaviour toward Jimin this morning. You definitely regretted what you said the second it left your mouth, but to take it back would be lame and embarrassing, so there was nothing you could do but keep walking.

Fucking Kim Taehyung. It’s all his fault for making us live in this stupid house, you grit your teeth, fully aware that you’re projecting but with no intention of stopping. So when you enter Mr Seung’s ward, your face is devoid of your usual smile.

“What’s wrong, Dr_____?” The old man immediately picks up on your mood as he watches you flip through his charts.

“It’s nothing, I’m sorry,” you breathe out a sigh. “I just had a bad morning. I didn’t mean to ruin yours too.”

“No need to apologize, and nothing you do could ruin my morning.” Mr Seung is always happy to see you every morning, which only worsens your guilt upon seeing his cheerful, unwavering smile. “Is everything okay? Do you want to talk about it?”

You hesitate at his bedside, feeling the urge to get rid of this burden on your shoulders by sharing it with someone, but also fully aware that you risk crossing a line with your patients that you swore never to breach all those years ago. But the old man looks so concerned and fatherly, and at that moment you crumble and start telling him everything.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to unload on you like that,” your cheeks heat up in embarrassment when you realise that you’ve been talking for a good 20 minutes straight. “This is so unprofessional; I should leave now.”

“Wait, _____,” he stops you with a hand on your wrist. “You know; Dr Kim is right. Being a patient doesn’t mean you can’t treat us like normal human beings. As a doctor you always listen to people’s problems, so why can’t I listen to yours for a change? It’s not unprofessional, on the contrary, it shows me that you trust me enough to tell me this.”

You pause to consider his point of view. “But I wouldn’t want to bother you with my personal problems and stuff, you already have enough as it is on your plate.”

“What do I have enough of on my plate?” He chuckles in amusement. “Lying here all day having people watch me isn’t exactly keeping busy. Trust me dear, you’re not a bother at all. It’s okay to ask other people to listen to you for a change.”

“But there’s nothing you can do about this situation, and I don’t want to make you feel bad for not being able to help me,” you squeeze his hand with a small smile. “It doesn’t improve my situation, and all I’m doing is making one more person worry about me.”

“Even if it doesn’t change anything,” the old man reaches to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear fondly, “it’s a lot less lonely isn’t it?”

And he’s right. You remember the first time he was brought in to see you, suffering from hallucinations and grief from the death of his wife in a car accident. His first instinct was to shut everyone out, begging for them to return his wife to him and threatening to kill himself if they didn’t comply. He was full of blame and resentment, and had to be put on round the clock suicide watch. Mr Seung refused to talk at all to anyone, insisting that no one would help him anyway. One night, when it was your turn to watch him, he had a particularly bad hallucination of his wife who asked him to hang the sheets from the ceiling and kill himself, but you managed to stop him and talk him through his trauma.

“I guess you’re right, it is less lonely.”

*

When you arrive back at home that day, your head is pounding and you’re more exhausted than usual, which is why you opt to sleep at home instead of the residents’ room tonight. You kick off your heels and leave them lying at the front door as you let yourself in, wanting nothing more than to isolate yourself in your room with some ramen before turning in for the night.

You find Yoongi in the kitchen with some takeout boxes.

“Man, you look like shit,” he comments immediately.

“You don’t look so hot yourself,” you grumble back, taking in his bedraggled appearance of a black hoodie and grey shorts.

“Yeah, all-nighters tend to do that to you.” Yoongi breaks apart his chopsticks and digs them into the takeout box before skirting around you to head back to his room.

“Wait, are you not sleeping well?” You ask in concern, trying to remember what his latest dosage of medicine is like. You could prescribe him some more without having to go to the hospital, but you’re not sure if your stash of sleeping pills is enough-

“I’m okay, _____. This isn’t the hospital, yeah? Was just making an innocent comment, is all. I was working on my mixtape.” He tells you with a meaningful look, which you take to mean that he knows about what you said to Jimin that morning.

Great. One more person to judge the fuck out of you when you’re just trying to be proper and draw the appropriate lines. You roll your eyes at him in response and head into the bathroom to start your shower, hoping that the hot water will wash away all the remains of this shitty day.

You step out of the bathroom 15 minutes later, only to run straight into Jimin, who’s sweaty and panting from his evening jog and you curse the gods above for this awful, awful day. Sweat glistens on his bare chest as he sweeps his damp pink hair off his forehead, flashing you a reserved smile. Attempting to sidestep him only becomes even more awkward when he happens to step in the same direction as you, multiple times, until he pauses and lets you skirt around him instead.

“Sorry,” you mumble under your breath, trying to avoid eye contact with him at all costs.  

“It’s okay,” Jimin says as he steps into the bathroom behind you, leaving behind a tinge of awkwardness that lingers in the atmosphere.

You make your ramen as quickly as possible in order to make it back to your room before he finishes showering, breathing a sigh of relief once your door is finally closed and you’re shut off from the outside world. At this point you’re starting to think you should have stayed in the residents’ room instead, so at least you wouldn’t have to run from your housemates pathetically like this.

Or resort to hiding in your room like a prey being cornered. You sigh despondently, but at least Taehyung isn’t home tonight or else you’d definitely be hearing from him about this morning. Somehow being around Jimin now sets you on edge, keeping him at arms-length just isn’t possible anymore if you’re sharing the same living space. It’s different with Yoongi since he doesn’t really make an effort to go out of his way to interact with you, and you aren’t treating Jeongguk.

But this awkward atmosphere between you and Jimin won’t go unnoticed for long, and soon the whole house will know about this. And you can’t let your relationship with him suffer while trying to maintain a professional distance either, as it might bear consequences when you’re actually trying to treat him in sessions.

In other words, Kim Taehyung is right about his rapport thing.

Steeling your nerves and taking a deep breath, you decide that you have to at least clear the air with him. You head for the door, already planning out a casual topic of conversation to bring up with him in your head, when a knock sounds.

You open the door cautiously, and it’s Jimin.

He looks freshly showered, his pink hair a little faded and damp, which reminds you that he did ask for your help in doing a touch-up. You’re about to mention this to him when you notice that he’s carrying a laundry basket with what looks like your clothes in it.

“Um, I was just doing the laundry and I thought I’d bring you yours,” he places the basket on the floor, and you shift your weight from one foot to the other.

“Wow, um, thanks Jimin, you really didn’t have to…” you glance down at the pile of clothes in the basket, and when you realise that you’d thrown in your ugliest pair of underwear in the last load, you almost groan in embarrassment. “I um… really appreciate you doing this, but I can get my own laundry next time.”

You want to slap yourself once the words leave your mouth and you realise how standoffish they sound. Jimin’s face crumples in disappointment, and he nods mutely before turning and heading back to his own room, right across the hallway from yours and letting the door slam.

Fuck. So much for clearing the air.

Letting out a long-suffering sigh, you curse your inability to phrase your words better when it comes to Jimin. At this rate, you might end up worsening his condition rather than helping him, and it’s already evident in how nervous and shy he is around you, compared to his confident, goofy self around Jeongguk and when you first met him.

You approach his door and knock apprehensively, and you think he’s actually sulking when he doesn’t immediately respond. But you have to at least try and clear the air with him and get on the same page or else you won’t be able to sleep tonight, so you decide to break the first rule you set.

Pushing open the door gingerly, you peek into his room for the first time. His bed his tucked away neatly in the corner of the room, and in the opposite corner is a mini gym with weights and dumbbells laid out on a yoga mat, together with a gym ball. His desk is bare except for a few books, and One Piece anime figurines are lined up from one end to the next.

“Jimin?” You don’t spot him immediately, but the sound of something clattering to the ground draws your attention to a hunched figure on the ground beside the bed.

Park Jimin raises his head to reveal his tearstained face, his own eyes glittering with an unfamiliar, menacing look that’s replicated in the harsh lines of his clenched jaw. A cruel smirk is etched onto his lips, accompanied by heavy panting as he looks up at you with a glint in his eyes, and you realise that this isn’t the Park Jimin that you know. 

The blade of the penknife in his hands is stained with crimson.