Reblogging Cause I’m A Sucker For Arranged Marriage Tropes 😁

Too beautiful not to reblog! 😍

just casually stunning [for @raplinenthusiasts] cr. namuspromised

Headed to the Mountains |KNJ

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•one shot

•Masterlist

•pairing: songwriter Kim Namjoon x oc with chronic pain

•word count: 3,465

•genre: escapism, hurt/comfort, smut, established relationship

•rating: MATURE/ 18+

•warnings: current event commentary, somewhat anti- American sentiment (I live in Texas so I see a lot of mess first hand 🫤 it’s my country but my god, it’s messy), stress, chronic pain, high sensitivity, sensory issues, first person voice, smut smut smutty smut, oral (female receiving and male), tandem oral, smex, doggy style?, Namjoon’s big brain during smex, smut with feelings and a lot of thoughts (as usual) ((all my air sign placements really coming out to play

•a/n: idk what this is, besties, besides extremely unedited and wildly indulgent. I may change the voice out of first person and all the “i’s” to “you’s” but it’s up the way it’s up for now. 🤷🏽‍♀️The world is just a horrifying place right now, especially in the US, and I just wanted to write something that felt like a small refuge, spend a little time some place that felt better, so we’re back in Namjoon’s living room. Also, who better to escape into the woods and away from reality with than the founder of namjooning himself ((also also, that bit about Pennsylvania was 100% true. It’s wild here, man))

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“I cannot get comfortable for the life of me,” I huff grumpily.

It’s a Monday night, late in March. The threat of rain has been looming for hours. Despite its sudden absence in the forecast when I check the weather app, I can still feel it in my bones. In the raw, creaky way my joints scrape against each other. The way the inflammation in my body burns like fire ants beneath my skin.

Namjoon is quick to notice from across the room.

“This weather’s been making your body feel like hell this spring.”

“Yeah, I hate to begrudge it though. Winter was even worse.”

“Gosh, it really was huh?” He frowns at the laptop screen on his desk. He’s got the tiniest beanie shoved on his very big head but somehow, it works. The tips of his hair peak past the beanie’s brim, brushing the mussed hair of his furrowed eye brows. “God, I can’t stand to stare at a screen a second longer.”

He peels his gold rimmed glasses off his nose, rubbing the little indentions they've made along the bridge and pressing his fingers into his closed eye sockets. I can tell he’s exhausted and miserable too about how much energy life seems to require of him these days.

“I’m going to scoop you up and make you the most comfortable woman in the world, I promise. Just give me like three minutes.” He tips back in his desk chair, the spine of it sliding out to a wide reclined angle as his long legs stretch out in front of him.

“Why did we spend so much money on a couch that’s not even comfortable, joonie?” I whine, shifting once again.

“Because the last one was even less comfortable than this one,” he reminds me, “and at least this one is cognac leather,” he shrugs. “It’s comfy on the eyes at least”

“Well I need it to be comfy for my bones.” I grunt, shoving yet another throw pillow out of your way. “Maybe we should pick up and move to the shore, like in a regency novel. I think the air would be good for me. I wonder if American healthcare accepts existential dread and deep chronic pain as enough of a reason to just financially support us until I turn to dust.”

“You and your TikTok algorithm both know as well as I do that America will do no such thing,” Namjoon chuckles with his eyes closed.

“I know…. But they should take at least some culpability. God knows most of my health problems probably exist BECAUSE of them.” I slide the strap of my bra and shirt off my shoulder, not because I want to be a seductress but because the elastic is cutting into my throbbing right trap muscle and if I don’t get some of the tension off of it, I might scream.

“Right? Did you hear about the latex spill in the Delaware river yesterday? The entire city of Philadelphia doesn’t have usable drinking water right now. My friend there literally got a text message about it from the city strongly recommending every use bottled water only until

Further notice. One and a half million people woke up to that text Message! It’s insane.” Namjoon pulls his oversized hood up over his beanie as he looks up at the ceiling, ankles crossed beneath the desk.

“Lord, haven’t we lived through enough of this? I’m so tired, joonie.” I can hear how pitiful I sound. To his credit, he treats me just the same as when I sound intellectually astute and strong. I’ve always liked that about him.

“If the world is going to hell in a hand basket anyway, maybe we should look into a- moving internationally and b- signing up for a payment plan on one of those YouTube influencer mattresses,” Namjoon tips his head my way, and suddenly my heart feels a little more light.

“Ooo, the helix?“ I smile, for perhaps the first time tonight.

His dark eyes twinkle in the low evening lamplight.

“ I actually did some research and found one made out of avocados.”

“Is that as close as I can get now that my body has decided it’s allergic to Avos?”

Namjoon’s eyes crinkle as he laughs. “God, your body would find a way to betray you like that wouldn’t it?”

“It’s not my fault I’m too delicate for this world,” I shrug.

“I forget you were born inside a flower that protected you from the world with its petals until it bloomed, thumbelina.”

“If I could take a nap inside a peony right now, I’d do it in a heartbeat…. The pollen might be too much though.” I sigh.

“Come here,” Namjoon laughs, standing from his chair and extending his hand toward me.

“Where are you taking me?”

I slip my knuckles between his and knock against his shoulder with my head.

“To my bumblebee. Take you on a spin around the block” he winks.

“I’m surprised you didn’t say take a ride. It’s like the only lyric you use these days” I snicker, bumping the curve of my hip into his.

“You’re supposed to write what you know,” he shrugs.” It’s not my fault your hips are your area of expertise.”

He winks at me and god, if he took every piece of clothing off of me right now, I’d ride him in a heartbeat.

Shit. Knowing him, he can probably feel my response to him without even looking at me. Sure enough, he looks down, smiling until his dimples dip in his cheeks, and damn it, I’m so captivated by the focaccia dough dips in his face that I stumble into the corner of the wall. My hip catches and I yelp, more embarrassed than in pain.

“Shh, hey, I got you.”

That calm voice of his is so low right now as his palm curves around the dip in my hip that got nicked by the wall. I tip into his long, warm torso and let him guide me into the bedroom. I’m clearly too disoriented and agitated to make it here without careening into something else and frustrating myself, so I’m happy for the assistance. Besides, being scooped up in Namjoon’s substantial hands is never a bad place to be.

“Thanks, baby. I needed that.”

I press my temple into his chest, kiss his ribs. Marvel at the resistance of muscle I feel beneath his soft green shirt. I press my nose into the fabric and let the warmth of him calm me. His other hand strokes soft knuckles along my jaw. His touch is so light and sweet - I feel my shoulders drop as he does it.

“Pick me up?” I whisper, eyes lifting softly to look up at him from where I’m pressed into his chest.

His hands slide up my sides, palms pressed into my waist as he lifts me. The soft grunt he makes as my thighs wrap around his ribs makes something in my brain feel a little fuzzy. Life is better like this, I think. Our faces nuzzled cheek to cheekbone, his hands fitted beneath my thighs, mine trailing softly through the silky bits of his hair peeking out of the back of his beanie as my arms drape over his shoulders like fabric. I can feel the knot of tension in the middle of my spine begin to untie itself as I melt into him. God, I’m so happy he exists.

“Where would you like to go, princess?”

Namjoon kisses the top of my ear, and that fuzzy tingle in my brain is back.

“What are my options?”

I press my lips softly to his throat in light, meditative kisses. They’re more like delicate exhales. My tongue barely tips out to taste his skin. Just a touch. Just a taste. Sleepy and slow because that’s all I have the energy for. His eyelids do that hazy half flutter that tells me he likes it enough to pretend he doesn’t so that I’ll keep going. I smile as he gently tips his head to the side, as if waiting for my answer, but really he’s just giving me more room to access that spot behind his ear that likes my lips. Let’s humor the man.

“We could go to the bed, the shower, the bath…” he gasps a little on the last word, the ah sound coming out too airy as I gently mouth at his pulse point and his grip on my thighs gets tense. “Or there’s a ….counter right here.” His head tips toward the half bath in the hallway as his fingers dig into the meat of my legs.

When I look up to meet his eyes, they’ve gone serpentine. Deep and dark and heavy as he holds me close. I can feel how shallow his breathing is becoming and I smile, sleepy and soft as he watches me.

“Take me to bed, Joonie.”

He’s kissing me before I can even finish his name.

He tips the door open with one of his feet before squeezing us both through the threshold of it. With his eyes closed and his tongue between my lips, he’s bound to crash into something and he does. He thunks an elbow, I knock my head, but in seconds, he’s cradling it where I’ve bumped the wall, spilling “sorry, I’ve got you, sorry,” onto my tongue as he pulls me in closer.

The spell doesn’t break.

He’s big and he’s bulky but he’s careful with me as he lays me on the bed and climbs over me. His mouth doesn’t leave mine even as he peels off each piece of my clothing. His movements are slow, his touch tender as he does.

Namjoon has learned how to soothe my body when it’s alert like this. Knows the cool air feels refreshing and crisp when my skin is hot with pain and sensitivity so he gets me naked with a deft touch. He knows the feel of his skin is grounding for me so that soft green shirt of his hits the floor. Knows I love his hair so the beanie goes next. Knows I love the strength in his thighs so his shorts are next as he tugs my hips down beneath his to let me wrap my legs around his slim waist.

I'm so wrapped up in the warmth of him that I don’t realize he’s tugged my silk pillowcase beneath my head. It’s cool when my head falls back and I smile, toothy and wide, as his plush lips sink into my skin. He’s at my collarbone now, then the volume of my breasts. His breath is warm, the air is cool and his substantial hands grip me firm like dough he’s being careful with as he kneads.

His cock brushes against me between my legs and the bright feeling it sends sparkling through me makes my breathing stutter.

“Joonie,” I shiver, and I can feel him smile against my skin. See his eyes flash up at me in the dark.

“We do too much, baby.” He breathes, voice smoky and low like the dragon he is.

I don’t know what he means. My critical thinking is losing its sharpness as he suckles warm and soft at the dip of my ribs.

“Too much?” I can feel my brows crumpling, but his tongue is so warm on my stomach that my hands dig into his shoulders without my consent.

He reaches up to brush one hand over mine.

“Shhh, easy. We’re trying to relax you, not tense you up.”

He’s smiling. I can barely see him but I can feel him and I know his grin would only dissolve me deeper into the mattress.

“We do too much, we deal with too much. God, your skin is too motherfucking much,” he squeezes me, latches his soft mouth onto my waist and tugs at the skin. I can feel the bruise blooming there, but he’s off and on to the next before I can even get words out. “Your body is always trying to process all of it, but it’s too much. Let me take care of some of it- let me help.”

When His tongue slips between my legs, his strong hands push my legs wide, press them down when he feels me buckle. His breath is so warm, his mouth is so molten, his nose on my clit is so gentle- it all leaves my body in an exhale. Tension drops off like melted wax and I feel myself go supple in his palms as I let him do what he wants with me.

“There’s been so much chaos. So much to deal with. So much to do. I just want to run away from it all with you.”

His tongue is languid as it works on me. The rush of warmth undoes the aches in my body better than a hot bath ever has.

“Then let’s go, Joonie. Where do you want to go? I’ll follow you anywhere.” And I mean it. They’re not lusty rambles. They’re not hollow words. I’d follow him to the edge of the world.

He puts that plump mouth of his over my clit and the gentle way he slurps me up melts my bones into soup broth and clears my head.

“You’ll let me take you anywhere?”

He looks up at me, his mouth never leaving his post, working me slowly as he waits for my reply. His mouth is so wet, his eyes are so sharp and my body is just another piece of music he’s learned how to perfect. I nod, bottom lip bit between my teeth and relax as much as I can as he composes a symphony between my legs. His smile folds the crinkles around his eyes, and his aura flickers between lovingly soft and steadily authoritative as he doubles down, wrapping his arms around my legs to scoop my hips up into his face and pressing into me, deeper, faster, harder.

I arch up when he does, gasping as my shoulders lift up, my fingers twist in the bedspread, my jaw goes slack. He’s really doing a number on me and all I want to do is say thank you and let him continue.

He slides up my body then, one hand behind my head bringing my forehead to his as the other grips my hip with enough pressure to split it apart as he tips his cock inside me in a way I didn’t know I needed. The sound is squelchy and wet and he smiles as his nose bumps against mine.

“You’ll follow me?”

He sounds cocky in a way he hasn’t in a while and a little piece of me loves it. His hips are fluid as his cock rocks in and out of me. All I can do is nod wildly, disoriented as I clutch him close to me. My legs are folded up, feet along his hips for purchase with my knees butterflied wide. I’d laugh at how much I must look like a frog if this didn’t feel so good. He’s got a hand beneath my bum, lifting my hips off the bend and gliding his cock so deep into me that surely my organs are all shifting wide like the Red Sea to make room for him.

“Wherever you want to go,” I hum, arms falling slack. I’ve lost the energy to hold on to him, but he’s got me held up so precious and tight that we’re still more intertwined than two fibers of thread in a tight knit sweater. I’ve fused into him and now every breath is in tandem.

“I’m gonna take my girl away from here.”

His thumb brushes my bottom lip and I feel myself flush at his tenderness.

“Yeah?” My eyes are wide, following his. He hovers above me, furrowed face sculpted with intensity and aggression as his body works mine into ecstasy. I’ve really acquiesced to the fact that I’m nothing more than a soft lump of clay in his hands that he’s working with precision. I’ve always wanted to be a work of art.

He slips my breast into his mouth like a lychee jelly, moaning at the feel of me tightening around him when he does it. Pumping harder, faster, deeper, only to pull out and dip his long fingers into the mess he’s made. He slathers it over all my sensitive bits, caressing with finesse as sparklers crackle in my vision.

When He pulls me up and into him, my face is pressed between his pecs and god, I can’t keep it together. I kiss them furiously as he works, clutching onto his arms, dragging my fingers down his abs as he slides his glossy fingers over my clit like he’s casting a spell. I can’t breathe… I can’t breathe… I can’t….

But I can because I have to- Namjoon won’t ease up until he gives me the sweet oxytocin of release by his hands and I wouldn’t have it any other way. So I dig deep and exhale slow and controlled, whimpering as he rockets past that orgasm to send me into preparing for the next one. He smirks like I’m his plaything and I comply with no resistance. I’ll have as many rounds as he gives me. I’m a big girl. I can handle- Oh!

At least, I thought I could handle anything. Naive me, I suppose.

I smile into the sheets when he tips me over onto all fours. He kisses my shoulders, kisses along my spine, brushing his thumbs on the folds on my hip, all tender and kind and syrupy sweet as the behemoth between his legs tips ever so slowly inside of me despite my incredible tightness, and I don’t know whether to breathe or scream so I press my face into the bedding and giggle like there’s something wrong with me.

“Take you somewhere quiet,” he slides in deeper. “With no noise,” he thrusts. “No news.” He thrusts. “Just nature.”

My chest feels tight with affection but my body feels limps like a rag doll as he pumps me silly. His gargantuan hands holding up my hips are the only thing keeping me from sliding off the bed and melting into the floorboards.

“Joonie, i’d- I’d love that,” soft puffs of air leave me with each fluid roll of his hips. The snap at the end of the graceful flourish knocks my skull a little loose but I don’t mind. Thinking so little is really quite nice.

“Take you for walks, lay with you in nature, fuck you like this in an outdoor bath tub while we watch the stars.”

His hand glides down my spine as he paints beautiful pictures with his words. My heart and my body don’t know which way is up.

“Escape all this chaos. At least for a little bit.” He smirks. I catch a glimpse of it as I look over my shoulder, reach back to hold his hand.

“I might never let you drag me back to the real world.” My smile is gooey, fond and so is his now. His dimples have come out - all his sincerity and heart on display, as his hips still even as he still fills me up.

“I can write poetry in the wild,” he shrugs. “My music would probably be better for it.”

He looks bashful and soft. The juxtaposition of his strong body and sweet face make me dip forward. He slides out of me, watching with confusion as I guide him to stand beside the bed.

When I flip onto my back, letting my head loll backwards off the bed in front of him, he arches a brow at me. I just chuckle and pull him forward by the back of his legs.

“Come here. I want to make my own music.”

I take the length of him into my mouth and he topples over, hands bracing on either side of me on the bed. He groans so sweet and low that I smile as I take him deep. His knees buckle when my nose tips softly against his balls as I suckle him slowly and it takes everything in me not to laugh at how happy I am.

His hands travel my body as his mouth occupies itself. He makes a meal of my breasts, takes a drink between my legs, holds my throat to lighten my breath. When we cum in tandem, he collapses to my side as we catch our breath in silence.

The night is still, the air is cool and rain is finally trickling against the windows.

Our bodies are spent and our plan is set.

We’ll run away soon enough.

But now, cradled breast to breast, we sleep knowing our world is just the smallest bit brighter.

“There are different kinds of soulmates. 12 to be exact." Ms. Whitehurst says while sat with MBG. "When we think of that term, we think so one dimensional. But no matter lover or friend or partner... We are all connected on a spiritual level. And therefore... We can all have a soul mate from the past that will find us one day, again."

Third type of soul mate: Soul Teacher

“Soul Teachers: Sometimes a soul mate might show up to teach you by challenging you to do something different from what they recommend, teaching you the value of thinking for yourself.”

Warning(s): Rac!sm, Some H8 Speech, SMUT, Hurt/Comfort, Real Historical Events...

((Please read at your own risk.))

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((PRESENT DAY))

“Eh…” Namjoon scrunches a nose as he lays back on your newly set up bed. You pause your folding of freshly clean clothes to stare at your boyfriend in shock.

“Baby. How many philosophical books have you read? And you’re telling me you’re iffy on reincarnation?!” You laugh in disbelief as he shrugs while sprawled out, just enjoying this Sunday morning.

“I mean… I have, but… I don’t know. It’s tricky. What does that entail exactly? We’re all stuck in an inescapable loop of death and birth?” He asks. “If it’s a yes then my follow up question is; why?” He wonders and you hum as you go back to folding while trying to think.

“Maybe… it’s like what Buddhist believe. You come back until you get it right.” You shrug. Your boyfriend sits up at that comment and rolls his shoulders a bit, and you almost break out into a smile, knowing that move all too well.

It was debate time.

“Yeah, but life isn’t a punishment. Shouldn’t be anyways.” He says.

“Then maybe reincarnation is the reward.” You say back.

“A reward? Without any prior knowledge of what life actually entails? With no memory of what it means to grow up or become successful or feel happiness or find love?” He asks. "To go through all the growing pains and awkwardness again and again?" He raises an eyebrow.

You hum at that as you take a minute to think. You loved debating with Namjoon because it was always a back and forth. Like a ping-pong tournament that usually ended with one cocky winner and a slightly sore loser.

“Then… maybe it’s a bit of both.” You say finally. “It’s a reward cause you get to go through life again, while also being a punishment cause you… well, go through life again…” You snort, and he hums softly as he watches you.

“That’s a cop out. Point me.” Namjoon states and you pause.

“What?! No! You can’t be serious!” You complain instantly as he laughs softly.

“Nope. I get the point. There is no real argument you've shown." He states and your roll your eyes playfully at that before huffing lightly.

"God. You're a headache. If reincarnation is a real thing, I can only hope you're not as competitive in that life as you are in this one." You tease as you lean over to cup his cheek and lightly brush your lips against his as he bashfully eyes you.

"I hope in every lifetime... It's you I debate with." He states quietly against your lips, and it makes you smirk as you slide the pad of your thumb along his bottom lip.

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1919: A large number of Korean nationalists come to America to study, and begun the Korean Independence Movement.

"Hey. What are you doing here?" The voice rings out through the girls' dormitory building, causing Namjoon to look over with a startled expression, his throat tightening just a bit.

“Hey. My friend asked you a question. What? You don’t speak English?” The other campus guard says as they walk closer.

Namjoon shifts on his own two feet, never one for confrontation. His parents had made it clear. He was here to study and keep his head down. That was all. But it was hard. And meeting Y/N has only made things harder.

“I… Got lost.” He finally says, deciding on that lie since he knew. He knew he shouldn’t be here. He knew he shouldn’t be sneaking around, and he knew with every inch of his brain that he should’ve never fallen for an American. Yet here he was, always listening to his heart.

“Yeah? What, you couldn’t see right?” The one guard says, pushing him. Namjoon stumbles only a bit, shoulders squaring as he braces himself.

“Probably a perv. Trying to peek at the girls here. Those aren’t yours, you fucking weirdo.” The other man laughs as Namjoon tries to move past them.

“Whoa! Did we tell you that you could leave, ch**k?” The student guard says, pushing Namjoon again. The nerdy young man trips but catches himself yet again, swallowing back the bile coming up his throat. He was here for a reason. First of his family to finish school and definitely the first ever to come to America for college, and he wasn’t going to let anything get him out of character.

The urge to fight back always hit him though. But where would that lead? Him looked at as the problem. Possibly even kicked out and sent back home. No. He had a right to be here. With that in mind, he does the only thing to do for him. Run.

“Hey! Get back here!” The other shouts as both chase him down out of the building…

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You go barreling down the ER hallway, running straight to the hospital room a nurse had been kind enough to appoint you to. After realizing Namjoon was late to your study date, you went running out looking for him, only to find him in a campus alleyway, beaten and bruised badly.

Everything was in slow motion at that moment and all you could do was rush to call 911 for help. You couldn’t hold him as you waited for help because a crowd had formed and you didn't want rumors to spread, but you also couldn't stand there and do nothing. You kept people at arm's length of his unconscious body until the amubulance arrived.

The paramedic made a comment about how you must be a 'smart broad' to be here in college, and you bit your tongue to keep your comments to yourself. He told you to run along and go 'read a book', but instead, you went running for the city bus to go visit Namjoon in the hospital.

You couldn't think of anything else other than making sure he was ok.

When you get to the room, you cover your mouth, seeing Namjoon laying in the bed like that. He had a busted lip and a bruised cheek and stitches on his forehead. Under the hospital lights, his injuries looked more dramatic, and maybe it was because they really were. It had never been this bad before now…

“Y/N?” He asks softly as he reaches a hand out to touch yours. You shakily grab his hand with both of yours, careful at this moment. You felt like you had to hold him tight to keep him from disappearing, but also hold him loose enough to not actually hurt him.

“Joonie. Who… Who did this?!” You finally ask, voice quiet and full of fear as he tries to pull you a bit closer towards him, but you’re stuck in place. This wasn’t right. You felt sick to your stomach.

How could anyone hurt this man?

“Telling… Telling won’t… change anything...” He whispers softly as he watches you closely. “It looks worse than it is…” He tries as he winces while sitting up.

“Who. Did. This?” You repeat, not wanting to hear his usual ‘I can handle this’ speech. He sighs as you make quick work of raising his bed to a sitting position, so he wasn’t putting too much strain on himself.

“I know we’ve agreed to only ever meet at the library on campus, but… I wanted to try and surprise you. Got caught by campus student security. They… They said I was trying to peek at girls…” He finally says quietly as you touch his unbruised cheek.

"I lost my scholarship due to indecent behavior. The school scout just came by to tell me as soon as I was conscious enough. It's over, Y/N... I'll have to go back to Korea..." He sighs quietly.

“Wha... What?" You breathe out as you feel your heart drop at that moment. "N-No. No. Namjoon.” You whisper in disbelief as you shake your head fast. “This… This isn’t… This isn’t right!” You snap finally. “I… I gotta… I-I gotta tell the police o-or the campus main office. Somebody! Someone’s gotta help us!” You say fast as your mind races with what to do next. He shakes his head with a soft wince.

“Y/N, that’ll… That'll only make things… Worse.” He tries quietly and you feel the anger consume you. You felt powerless and overwhelmed at the same time. You let go of his cheek to brush your fingers through your hair instead.

“Baby. Come here.” He tries as he pats the space next to him in the bed, and you want to laugh at the cruel irony.

He’s still trying to care for you!

“I hate this. I-I can’t… I can’t lose you! No! No, I…” You whisper, tears filling your eyes as you watch him.

“It’s not up to you…” He points out quietly and you glare at that. It's true, but it stings.

“Joonie…” You mutter in an upset matter. He frowns and weakly grabs your hand, bringing it up to his lips, and giving your palm a soft kiss that you wish you could get tattooed on to your skin so it lasts centuries…

“Joonie. I… I could’ve lost you. That’s… That’s terrifying.” You finally whimper, sniffling to keep some composure. "Now you're telling me that I am going to lose you anyway? No!" You cry softly.

“Hey… Y/N...” He tries gently and you sniffle once more, shaking your head.

“You shouldn’t have to deal with this! We shouldn't have to deal with this! I... I shouldn't have to be worried every day that some... That somebody might..." You can't stop the sob that escapes your throat as the tears fall freely. "I couldn't have you... And at this moment you're getting taken from me..." You whimper finally as you hold yourself.

"Why the hell am I the only one mad?!" You shout as the tears run down your face faster. Why must he always be passive?!

Namjoon frowns deeply at that and looks down, as if ashamed. "Please... Please let me hold you." He whispers finally, his shoulder too hurt to reach out for you himself.

You sniffle and slowly give in, moving to sit on the hospital bed with him. He winces slightly but ignores it as he focuses on holding you as close to him as possible. “We have this moment. I have another day here. Just think about that..." He whispers against your hair before nuzzling his nose against your scalp. You shut your eyes as you focus on his scent, nose pressed against his hard chest.

"We're only promised 24 hours. Like everyone else." He continues quietly.

"But that's not fair." You whisper back as you look up at him. "We aren't like everyone else." You try quietly.

"Then what do we deserve? Hm?" He asks as he rubs his hand up and down your back.

"Give me 25." You say quietly after thinking a bit. Your hand gently balls around his hospital gown. His dragon like eyes scan your face, gliding along your features gracefully.

"An hour just for us?" He smiles finally and you shake your head.

"Just for you." You whisper, making him blush ever so slightly. You two were masters of soft whispers. That and writing was your only love language...

"I'll try. But... Technically speaking-" You cut him off, leaning up to kiss him. Always one to debate. It's how you two had met actually.

A wrong answer spoke during a mid-fall lecture meeting, a quiet voice correcting it, an embarrassed blush creeping on to your cheeks at being shown up by this random exchange student. You had confronted him at the end of that class to tell him off for proving you wrong in front of the whole class, but it just led to you two realizing that there was more here than just academic rivalry.

The kiss starts off slow and tender, but just as quickly does it turn hot and passionate. You feel Namjoon's tongue lightly graze your bottom lip, and your heart flutters. You two haven't been alone in two weeks. God it felt good to have his lips on yours right now.

This is all you had.

Your 25th hour was starting now...

You pull back to catch your breath, stroking his jawline tenderly. "Baby...” You whisper in a soft warning tone.

“I... I need you...” Namjoon whispers back between soft pants. You blush hard at the phrase that he whispered to you only once before. Inbetween two large bookshelves in the campus library as you laid on the soft grey carpet, hidden away from the rest of the world...

He has the same look in his eyes as he did that night. A need. A need to prove to himself that this is real. That you are real. You always needed that assurance too.

“Here?” You whisper quietly as you can't help but look towards the door. No one was coming in here. Namjoon had no family or friends in the states, and the nurse had told you she just finished her rounds. Could you pull this off?

“Y/N... All I thought of when I was being attacked... Was how I’d never get to see you again." He admits quietly.

"Don't." You whisper as you place a hand on his chest just to feel his heartbeat. That's all you wanted right now. Feeling the heart monitors where your hand should be was the only piece of reality in this moment that things could've been worse.

"Y/N." He places his larger hand over yours. "I... I need to prove to myself that I actually survived. That I’m here. With you. Please...” He says softly. You give him another glance, just trying to read his eyes. Then you slowly nod. With no further word, you get on top of him, careful not to hurt him.

“Let’s... Go slow...” You whisper as you rest your forehead against his. he nods once before he relaxes back against the hospital bed, looking up at you in adortion while you reach under your long skirt to pull your underwear off. He smiles softly at the cotton black fabric with pink hearts on it.

"Not a word." You mutter playfully, knowing he'd just flatter himself. He smiles up at you before you lean down, kissing him deeply. He kisses back with a feverish need for your lips to stay against his until you're both desperate for air. You grant that desire by grabbing ahold of his face carefully in both hands.

Little by little, your hand travels down from his face to between you both, just exploring until finally it reaches under the hospital bedsheets and under his gown. He pulls back from your lips to let out a low shiver as you wrap your hand around his semi.

You look him in the eyes as you lightly trace your fingertips along his tip, making his mouth fall open, small pants coming from him as his eyes close in anticipation of this bliss. You pull your hand back to spit on it and then stroke his cock to hopefully make it slick enough.

"Y/N..." He pants in need as you kiss along his neck, his head going further back to give you more room to roam, his eyes still closed in peace. With his cock wet and hard enough, you sit up on your knees and position yourself on top of him.

"Joonie... Look at me." You pant. He does exactly as you say. And you slowly sink on to his thick member.

"Oh... Oh god..." He moans quietly as you slide further down. His reaction makes you wetter while also making you blush hard.

"I thought you didn't believe in him?" You tease quietly as you sit fully on his cock, making him groan.

"It's hard to question when this is bliss..." He whispers, grabbing your hips.

You open your mouth to speak again, but instead you moan ever so softly against his lips when he grinds up against me. “Baby...” You whisper against his lips.

“I love you...” He whispers as he looks up at you while you begin to bounce, hand on his chest to rub it affectionately.

“I love you...” You whisper back as you find a good pace for you both, walls squeezing along his cock as you move, making him grip your hips tighter, catching your lips in a passionate kiss. You hold his face in your hands as you make out while you ride him passionately and eagerly to feel one with him.

"Baby...” He moans the second he pulls back from this kiss, his head falling back against the hospital pillows. You moan a bit louder and bite down on your lip hard to stay quiet in this moment, but he looks so perfect in this moment. Hair a mess, face scrunched in pleasure. “Oh... Oh, baby...” He moans quietly, arms wrapping around your waist tightly.

You can’t help but go faster. The thought of never having him again? It scared you enough to want to make him remember that he is loved. That you will always love him. Always try and take care of him. Nothing was promised. Not even your 25th hour...

“Baby. Baby. Y-Yes!” He pants, hugging you tighter to him as you pump your hips in need, desperately chasing down your high and his as his head rests in the cork of your neck, nipping and licking at the skin, always careful to not leave a mark though. You had an image to uphold. Moans fill the hospital room as the heart monitor beeps wildly and you so selfishly want it to match yours. Hands roam and heads roll back. You kiss and bite along his shoulder to silence yourself as best you can, reaching a hand up to grab his hair and yank it softly as he groans your name. It's never sounded more beautiful...

“Don’t leave me. You can’t leave me...” You whisper between heavy pants of thin air, your emotions damn near strangling you. He shivers at your breath so close to his ear.

“Never. I’d never... Never leave." He declares quietly, and a part of you knows. You both are smart enough to know. It's a promise sworn in vain, but god does it feel so honest in the moment. Your body trembles as you get closer.

"O-Oh, baby!” You moan more desperately as you grip on to him, refusing to ever let him go. You knew he was close too. You could feel his cock swell as you cum around him, and you keep up your pace, just wanting to feel him. There was no going back, and you didn't want to think of what the outcome of this could be. You just wanted to feel his warm seed. So, you speed up, whispering for him to cum in you.

He reaches down to rub your clit, making you jolt to a stop, grinding against his cock and hand as he moans happily at the feeling of your milking his cock. He shoots his cum hard into you as he focuses on kissing you, biting at your lips instead since you've turned into too much of a moaning mess to properly kiss him back. You cum once more on his cock as he kisses your chin sweetly while you try coming down from your high, moaning lowly. You hug him tight, arms around his neck, not wanting him to move an inch from you.

“Baby...” You finally whisper between heavy pants when your brain starts up again. He pulls back to look up at you.

“You’re perfect...” He breathes out, and you blush before kissing him again, tenderly in this moment you share.

Maybe this life was all you got...

**********PRESENT DAY**********

"I have to shower. And make sure you didn't mark me too bad..." The Korean male says from under you. "You need to let me up soon." He mutters, his morning voice rough and deep as you kiss all along his face ever so tenderly. A smirk on your lips. He'd be in for a nice surprise when he does see the litter of hickeys left on his neck, shoulder, and chest...

"No. I changed my mind. They can't take you." You say quietly as you pull away to look at the man you love. You've always felt connected to him, but this moment... This topic... You couldn't understand. You were a foreigner at the end of the day. So, the idea of having to enlist? Having to put a pause on your life to train and prepare for the slim chance there is danger for at least a year and a half? It was a culture shock...

"We spent the whole night awake. All those hours just for us." He points out and you pout a bit at that, feeling selfish as you wrap your arms around his neck, hands playing with the small hairs left from his buzzcut.

"You think we have a problem like this in every lifetime?" You mumble against his lips, bring up the conversation from yesterday morning, making Namjoon playfully roll his eyes.

"Not this again..." He jokes before grabbing your hips peacefully. "Mm... Honestly?" He asks and you nod as you watch him closely. "I think... If we did meet in every lifetime only to be pulled apart... At least we always find each other again. Hm?" He whispers and you search his eyes to see if he means that or if he's just humoring you. Slowly, you see the honesty in his eyes and the love. You blush and lean in to kiss him again.

***************************************

Really hope you guys liked it! Next up is Taehyung! Imma put a window date up cause I know ya'll must be tired of me being late. Expect part four out the 27th-28th. Love Ya'll!!!

The real Kim Taehyung!

taehyung à paris: texts from last night

for anon <3

😆 @mortallydeepestobservation

The truth of it 🤣

Ok, I’m hooked on this couple! I can’t believe I haven’t read the whole series yet!

kakistocracy Namjoon and y/n talking about their career aspirations which ultimately prompts a sweet conversation about their future together 🥺

hello. here u go, hoe + happy birthday to namjoon!!!!

Keep reading

I love this man with every fiber of my being! And I miss him so very much!

A namjoon a day while he's away

227 days to go

Do you know that i love this dork?????

Really excited for this story! Bloom was one of my favorite fanfics! I really dig this whole soulmate au world that has the partners basically feeding of each other’s energy and emotions.

All I Haven't Said | Namjoon/Reader

Pairing: Namjoon/Reader (afab)

Genre: Soulmate AU; idol AU; chapter fic; strangers to lovers; a bit of idiots to lovers, tbh; slow burn; eventual romance; eventual smut; angst (life is messy & hearts are complex); OT7 featured

Summary: You found your soulmate - or rather, he found you. Turns out he's an idol of much acclaim who needs you for very real and unglamorous reasons. What could become of two hearts so used to giving of themselves when they are confronted with needing each other?

Warnings: 18+ (minors, dni), realistic depictions of cancer and cancer treatment; mention of unfeatured character death (previous to plot); emotional health growth and development; eventual smut; feelings and dealing with feelings (no, but seriously, so many feelings)

Author's Note: First and foremost - Blame Me chapter 1 will still be tentatively dropping by the end of the week. However, this just literally wrote itself last night after a couple of drinks and several streams of Lonely 💔. It was the thing that just poured out of me and could not be stopped. It's been simmering in the back of my brain for a while, and so, now that it's out here, I'm going to be posting it in tandem with Blame Me, probably on alternate weeks (if I can manage it, 😅). I want to give credit to those whose works I have read which have come to set the stage for my concept of the soulmate au, and who are far my betters in creative artistry: Matchy, author of balls-to-the-walls masterpiece Trip No Further, Fallencairns, author of lovely work of art Turbulence, and @teenagebountyhunter , to whom I dedicate this work 💜 the author of the ineffably beautiful Namjoon soulmate fic Bloom (RUN to read this immediately) - the inspiration for what is to humbly follow below. If you're checking this out, thanks a million for reading, and please don't be shy in offering feedback should you be so inclined! (Baby fic writer here, constructive criticism always welcome!)

Without further ado, chapter one is under the cut.

P.S. Tag list is open. If you want in, let me know. 😊

P.P.S. In case no one has told you today, you're loved and worthy of love. 🧜💜

“When your hands leap towards mine, love, what do they bring me in flight? Why did they stop at my lips, so suddenly, why do I know them, as if once before, I have touched them, as if, before being, they traveled my forehead, my waist?”

~ Pablo Neruda

Chapter 1: The Cure

Diana dipped another three fries in ketchup and popped them into her mouth.

"So, what do you need to talk about that has you desperate enough to buy me lunch?" She smiled smugly and sipped and her milkshake. You hadn't touched the burger in front of you, even if you probably should be absolutely relishing in it, considering your future prospects. You picked up a sweet potato fry and stared at it absently.

"I found my soulmate," you stated flatly. Diana's jaw dropped mid-chew, unpleasantly framing the masticated remains of a mouthful of turkey club.

"Wait, are you serious?" she pressed, round hazel eyes wide and unblinking. You dipped the fry down into the little cup of ranch and swirled it around slowly.

"Actually, he found me. Well, his people found me," you continued. 

"Huh? So is he some kind of a big deal - wait...they found you? What does that even mean? Wait, no - you have a soulmate?!" You smiled ruefully. It was kind of nice to see someone else freaking out about it for a change. You had known your little sister would react strongly, which is why you had waited until now give her the news. "Y/n, ANSWERS," Diana demanded leaning forward to flick your forehead. 

"Ow!" you protested, rubbing the throbbing spot on your brow. "Keep your pants on, geez!" You sighed. After having relayed this story to your mom, your doctor, a specialist, legal advisory, your best friend, your brother and his wife, and your very disappointed boss, you had gotten pretty good telling it. Yet, somehow, each time the burden of it's truth felt a little heavier. You ate the fry. It was pretty good. You wished it had sucked so it wouldn't be one more edible thing you missed the prospect of.

"So apparently, a couple of years ago a university in Switzerland found a way to match soulmates using DNA testing. Don't ask me about the exact science of it - I do not understand it. What I do know is that it's illegal to use this technology to locate your soulmate in the US."

"Why?" Diana had abandoned her food and was listening with rapt attention.

"Something about privacy rights. Though they've dealt with that issue in Switzerland - people interested in finding their soulmates join a biological registry. I'm sure our government is just waiting to find a way that big pharma can exploit it before they facilitate the process. Anyway, somehow, I ended up in a foreign registry. I guess there is a black market for soulmate data..."

"Oh my god, could I be on the black market?" Diana gasped, slapping her hands over her mouth.

"I guess anyone could, provided they've ever been treated at a hospital, or given blood, or anything of the sort...but calm down! It doesn't even matter unless you have a match, which is rare."

"So he found you on the black market?! That's so fucking sketchy, Y/n."

"It was his company, actually. I got a visit from representatives of an organization called Hybe. They are some kind of South Korean entertainment conglomerate. One of their employees, a musician, is dying of cancer. Seeing if he had a soulmate was a last-ditch effort to save his life. Now everything is banking on me and my cooperation." You flicked your eyes up to your sister. Her expression had morphed into something far more somber.

"Heavy..." she whispered. You nodded. "What are you gonna do?" You took a bite of your burger. She wasn't going to like your answer. Diana's face changed again, this time registering alarm and indignation. "No," she murmured, "No, Y/n. You're just gonna do it, aren't you? You're gonna go be the fucking hero! You're going to traipse off to Korea and save his sketchy, ungrateful ass!" She stood up, her chair screeching back over the concrete and drawing the attention of other diners on the patio. You glanced around apologetically.

"Diana, sit down! And how do you know if he's grateful or not?!" you hissed.

"No!" she countered defiantly, yanking her hand away from where you had reached for it. "You always do this! You never, ever think of yourself. And now you'll be gone forever...is this even safe?" Tears had started to well up in her eyes, and the glances around you had turned into stares and whispers. You stood up and pulled her into a hug.

"Hey, hey, it's okay! Lets get out of here and I can answer all of your questions, alright?" She sniffled.

"Okay. But you're not leaving me." You smiled and huffed out a laugh pulling her toward the parking lot.

You had anticipated that Diana would disapprove of your decision, and it being as difficult a situation as it was, you had decided to make all the arrangements and choices necessary before telling her. She loved you so fiercely, she would have watched the world burn before letting you break a nail, if she could help it. After your father's death nearly twenty years ago, you had become protector and provider to Diana and your younger brother Henry, three years her senior, in ways your sensitive and unworldly mother seemed unequipped to shoulder. If they had both not been so established and secure in the trajectory of their adult lives, you would have made it clear to Hybe that you regrettably had nonnegotiable responsibilities right where you were. But Henry was settled into a suburb with a lovely wife and year-old daughter, Diana was set to finish undergrad and head off to nursing school, and the deal with Hybe had actually allowed you to leverage for your Mom's retirement, so you were boarding a flight to Korea next week to take on a new set of cares and concerns.

You tossed your keys on the table on your way into your apartment and collapsed onto your comfy red couch. While Diana rooted around your fridge and loudly complained about the lack of hard seltzer, you sorted through the mail and made a mental note to add a forwarding address on a few of your accounts and subscriptions, including the one supplying you with Nightwing comics. You set the mail aside and took a moment to look around you. You loved your little apartment. The kitchen was small, but the big window with the spider plant hanging in it made it one of your favorite rooms - the herb garden on the counter and the fully stocked bar above the fridge did nothing to make you like it any less. The earthy brown walls of the living space were littered with shelves full of candles and living plants and quirky curios, and in and amongst them hung framed watercolors of flowers and herbs that you had painted yourself. The record player sat at the ready in the corner by the wall dedicated almost exclusively to books and vinyl. There was a small tv over the stone-lined fireplace. Over your shoulder your soft, queen sized bed with sheer canopy cozily called your named from the single bedroom. The whole place smelled like citrus and cinnamon. In every corner, there was you. It was going to be hard to leave the hobbit hole you had so lovingly curated for yourself over the last half-a-decade...especially since you wouldn't be going "there and back again", but just...there. Diana plopped down next to you,  breaking your reverie.

"So, you're NOT going, but tell me about the huge mistake you ALMOST made," Diana prompted as she side-eyed you, taking a sip of the wine she had poured herself. You set the comic book you had been thumbing through aside and drew your knees up to your chest as you swiveled to face her impatient stare.

"Last week, a these three people showed up at my door, two men and a woman, and they said they were from a company called Hybe based in South Korea. One of their employees, a singer named Kim Namjoon, has stage 4 liver cancer. I guess they caught it pretty late in the game, so even the most aggressive treatments aren't doing much good. Back in April the doctor gave him two months to live."

"Damn," Diana interjected softly.

"Yeah, that's why all of this is happening so fast. He needs me as soon as I can get there."

"We need you, too," she whispered, reaching out to loop her finger into the top of your sock. You smiled affectionately.

"I know, Di, but you're a grown woman now and you can take care of yourself. You're going to have to and I know you can. Life really won't be that different - you'll be off to school in San Diego anyway! Most of our hangouts were going to be over Facetime...now you'll just have an excuse for a little international travel." She heaved a stuttering sigh.

"Speaking of travel...Johnny broke up with me," she mumbled. Your mouth hung open in shock.

"Oh my god, Di, I'm so sorry! Why didn't you tell me?" She downed her remaining wine and stared into the empty glass, twirling it between her fingers.

"I was gonna, but when I told mom last week she said to wait to talk to you about it because you were dealing with something stressful. Now I know what she meant." You shook your head.

"Ugh, Mom..." Your sweet, nonconfrontational mother, while you loved her deeply, was a horrible communicator. Whenever she got involved things like this always ended up worse. You looked at your sister twiddling with her wine glass. She looked so small. And Diana, while she exuded many things, very rarely seemed diminutive. You grabbed her and pulled her to you, and she instantly snuggled into your chest. "I'm sorry you've had to hold that in all this time," You said softly, stroking her hair, "You really could have told me. How are you doing? Was it bad?" She shook her head against you.

"Nah, it wasn't so bad. He's going to travel before starting grad school and wants to 'sow some wild oats'," she answered, flashing air quotes. You couldn't see her face, but the acerbic nature of her tone told you just exactly what she thought of that concept. You snickered. Atta' girl. You'd never liked that guy much, anyway.

"What an asshole," you remarked.

"Yeah, he better not hit me up in a couple of months when he's done fucking his way through Europe."

"Fuuuuuck that," you commiserated. 

"Yeah, so I thought this summer would be our last hurrah. You know, no guys, just you and me...like old times" Diana mumbled in a voice that was all sulking and bottom lip. 

"Ahhh," you said with a smile, "So that's why you are so disappointed. Well, we still have a few days - we can make the most of them!" Diana lifted her head from your chest and glared up at you.

"Boys ruin everything!" She whined. You smirked softly.

"Usually I would agree with you, but the one I'm leaving for seems kind of decent, actually." Diana frowned.

"How do you know? Did he call you or something? Wait, you never finished telling me your story!" You hummed in assent.

"I mean, there's not much more to tell. I agreed to move out there to bond with him and begin treatment. I signed a really basic contract that will be revised when he is well enough to think about the future - or in a year, whichever comes first. They were pretty quick to meet my terms, I guess they didn't really have much choice since I was the one holding the all the cards."

"What does any of that have to do with him being a good guy?"

"Oh," you blinked, "It doesn't. You see, when they met with me they talked a lot about him. It was almost like a job interview or something. They talked about his accomplishments, his net worth, the importance of his work, and his worthiness as a person. One of the guys was actually one of his bandmates, and he had come specifically as a character reference. They had initially wanted me to sign the contract right there and then - and let me tell you, that kid they brought with them almost convinced me with his giant puppy eyes alone - but in the end I had asked for forty-eight hours to consult legal advisory and think it over. The first thing I did when they left was look him up. You actually probably already know who he is - I think I might have been the only person in the world who didn't. Have you ever heard of BTS?" Diana jumped back like she'd been stung, clutching her chest.

"Are you about to tell me that your soulmate is a member of the biggest band in the world?" she whispered, her eyes impossibly wide. You smirked. 

"Not just a member, Di...their leader." Diana shrieked, leaping up off the couch.

"RM??? Your soulmate is RM???" You sister stared at you, agape, while you threw your hands up in indignation.

"I was the only person!"

"Oh my god..." Diana staggered back, demeanor having deviated sharply from disapproval to elation, "My roommate is obsessed with them! She has all these posters - but her favorite, I'm sorry, her bias, is Suga...holy shit, I can't WAIT to tell her she's gonna-"

"Diana," you interrupted her firmly, and her eyes shot up to you.

"Yeah?"

"You can't tell anyone." Her face fell as she leaned back against the wall beside the fireplace. Clearly this was going to be even more of an emotional roller-coaster for her than it was for you, you thought in amusement. Typical.

"Everyone who I tell has to sign a gag order. You included." Diana slid down the wall into a slump and knocked her head back.

"This situation keeps harshing my vibes, dude," she whined.

"Well, I'm exceedingly sorry about your vibes, but I'm sure they'll recover," you rejoined sardonically.

"But woah, Y/n, your boyfriend is hot. And rich. And super famous. Your wedding is going to be fucking LIT..." 

"Woah, Nellie!" You cut her off, waving your hands as if you usher her train of thought into the landing strip of sanity.  "Slow. Down. Wedding?? What happened to 'sketchy, ungrateful ass'?! He is NOT my boyfriend. He's supposedly my soulmate. According to some Swiss pseudoscience. We haven't even bonded yet. And if we do in fact bond, that doesn't mean we're a couple." Diana popped her head up and fixed you with the most incredulous of stares.

"Um, excuse me...soulmates have to touch each other to survive. And I heard that the soulmate connection is better than sex. You're telling me you have the opportunity, nay, the duty, to be up in the business of one of the sexiest men alive, and you're just gonna platonically kick it for the next seventy years?" You rolled your eyes.

"I mean, if that's what he wants - if that's what I want. Soulmates doesn't automatically equate lovers. I've been reading about people's experiences and there are some soulmates who bond platonically. Some people are already with romantic partners when they meet. Some don't share a sexual orientation that makes them compatible as lovers..."

"Oh my god, Y/n, could you please not kill the sexy by going all nerd on this?" She asked you in exasperation as her finger swiped at her phone screen. Suddenly she shoved the phone out toward you, while tapping frantically with a neon yellow acrylic nail on the image she had summoned. She was saying something humorous and complaintive but you weren't listening. You were looking at the man in the photo. You hadn't seen this one in your superficial search-engine dives. It was a headshot. His hair was a light brown, full at the top and styled away from his face. His skin was darker than in many of the other images you had seen, emanating a beautiful golden glow. He was smiling just enough for his right dimple to softly grace his cheek. He features were strong, masculine, and incredibly handsome. All of that was already striking, but his eyes, oh, his eyes - they were staring directly at the camera, irises only half visible under his lidded gaze, warm and sincere, so incredibly intense. The hair stood up on the back of your neck and your breath caught in your chest in spite of you. You closed your eyes and sucked in a breath. You needed to calm down. He was just a person. Good looking? Yes. Charismatic? Obviously. But you had a job to do, and no time to screw around with schoolgirl daydreams. He probably had a girlfriend. No, definitely, he definitely had one. And hey, he was just a person, like you. No need to be star struck...Diana had been continuing her rant, completely unaware of being ignored, when she had let out a high pitched squeal of laughter. "Oh my god...oh my god!" She shrieked.

"What?" You snapped, your hormone-wrestling train of thought cut off abruptly. She stared at you, lips pressed together as if she was trying to contain more loud giggles.

"What??" You demanded impatiently, your limit for her antics very swiftly approaching.

"RM. K-pop superstar, probably one of the coolest people ever born, gets YOUR dorky ass as a soulmate, HAH!" "Hey!" you deflated, unimpressed with what she considered to be so vastly comical.

"Oh that poor man!" she pushed dramatically, "That poor, poor man. You're the least graceful, geekiest person in the western hemisphere. What will you even talk about? Good thing you don't speak Korean, you'd probably bore him to death! Shit, at least you're pretty..." You folded your arms over your chest defensively.

"Hilarious. But actually, he's fluent in English. And I read somewhere that he likes art..."

"Y/n, he's rich," she interrupted condescendingly, "All rich people like art. It's a huge flex to own an original. If I was a billionaire I'd 'like art' too. Oh my god, I just can't believe this is happening. Like he's crazy famous..."

"And very, very sick," you reminded her softly. Her expression fell into something contrite.

"Oh, shit, I forgot," she murmured.

"I'm glad you're excited for me, Di. It really made me feel a lot better about the whole situation seeing you get some kind of joy out of it. But I can't stress enough that this isn't a fairytale. Who knows how he feels about resorting to this. I guarantee you this is as hard for him as it is for me."

Diana crossed over to the couch and skooched in next to you.

"All jokes aside, he's lucky to have you, Y/n. You love at a thousand percent. Even if you guys just end up being soul-buddies, or whatever, he hit the jackpot," she smiled at you, that sweet smile that made you rethink everything for one split second. Now it was your turn to try to hold back tears. "I'm gonna miss you," she murmured, "But I respect what you're doing."

"Now that he's famous?" You prodded with a teasing smile.

"Yeah, now that he's famous," she conceded. You pulled her into a hug. The silence that hung around you was pregnant but comfortable. Diana finally broke it with a soft question.

"So you're really going to give your whole life away for a total stranger next week?" she whispered.

"Mmhm," you hummed somberly into her hair.

"Why you always gotta be like Dad?" A familiar lump began to form in your throat, but you swallowed it back. You always did. And Diana fell asleep in your lap one last time. You stroked her hair as you thought back, rather emotionally exhausted, over your conversation. It seemed like people thought of the soulmate connection as some kind of miracle. You didn't believe in those. People made choices, and those choices governed reality. You had just made the biggest choice of your life, and if it was like any of the other roads you had taken, it would require much of you. 

***************************

The following day was your last at work. Your coworkers had greeted you with pizza, cake, flowers, and hugs. It was touching to realize how much you would be missed. Your boss, Shauna, hovered as you gathered you belongings from your desk. 

"Damn it to hell, I'm gonna miss you!" She mourned for the umpteenth time. You smiled as you tucked your little philodendron into the box, placing it next to the canvas speckled with daisies that read "You Matter" in curly green letters. 

"You have an amazing team here, you guys will do great," you insisted, patting her hand where she leaned on your desk.

"Um, a great team of people you trained!" she said, consoling herself with a swipe of frosting from what had once been a beautiful red velvet cake with white buttercream. You leaned beside her on the desk, joining her in sadly picking at the dessert remains. After you had graduated with your degree in social work, you had landed an internship in a program which Shauna was running. The two of you quickly discovered you had similar passions and community goals, and the following year had left the program to start Magnolia Village, a one-stop shop for women's services sadly unprecedented in your area. While the startup had been rough, your passionate duo had believed in the need and refused to say die, and from your mutual blood, sweat, and tears had blossomed a cornerstone of the local community. Over the years it had grown and extended its reach to thousands in need of support. Many of the staff were women who had first come through the door seeking services, and were now your partners in providing the aid they had found empowering in their hour of need. You were immensely proud of what the two of you had built, but leaving the Village was bittersweet, as you were more confident than ever that it had grown into a well-oiled machine powered by lovely, capable people who could keep it going at full tilt without you.

"This place basically built itself, we just propped up the scaffolding," you remarked, glancing around the building fondly - what had once been a residential fixer-upper was now a cozy space of offices, a nurse's station, six emergency beds, sanitation services, and a food pantry

"Bitch, you know very well that I am the bulldozer and you are the heart and soul of this place. We are going to feel it when you leave. You better come back and visit us. Mirabell is going to do a good job filling your shoes, though. Watching her step up to the plate has been something else." 

"It has," you nodded, "She's going to kick ass. You might just forget I was ever here by the end of next week." Shauna turned uncharacteristically tearful eyes toward you.

"I will never forget you," she choked. Then suddenly you were being crushed in a bear hug. You returned her embrace until you thought you might actually pass out from lack of oxygen.

"Okay, I love you, but I'm about to asphyxiate!" you wheezed, slapping her on the shoulder.

She let you go, but grabbed your arm and looked at you seriously. "I want you to promise me one thing," she said, holding your gaze. You cocked your head to the side. Shauna released your arm to clasp both your hands in hers. "I want you to promise me that when you get to Korea, you find something that you're gonna do for yourself." You started to respond but she stopped you. "Something for yourself. It doesn't matter what it is, but it can't be for your soulmate, or your family, or anyone else however deserving...just you, okay?" You looked at her quizzically.

"I do stuff for me..." 

"Don't get swallowed up, baby girl. Find someone to ground you, to remind you that you're worth more than what you have to offer." You scoffed.

"I'd like to see someone try and swallow me..."

"Y/n,"

"What?"

"Promise me."

"Okay," you nodded, "I promise."

Shauna squeezed your hands, then went back to chipping away at the mass of red crumbs and buttercream.

A little twinge of worry twisted in the pit of your stomach. You were strong. Resilient. No one could bounce back like you, could survive like you. People knew this - they had been telling you so since you were ten years old. So why was everyone acting like you were being cast out to sea without a life preserver? 

*****************************

You had spent the weekend with your family. Henry and Mercedes had even driven down, Elena in tow, to have one last Sunday dinner and see you off to the airport. Hugs and tears and small parting gifts had made leaving even harder than you had imagined. When you finally boarded the plane your eyes were red and your head was throbbing. After the plane had gained enough altitude to allow you to unfasten your seat-belt, you had slipped into the restroom to rinse your face. You returned, plopping down next to the man who would accompany you during your first few days of transition.

"I'm getting booze when they wheel it by, Matt, so don't try to stop me," you huffed, gesticulating in mild threat with the book you had extracted from your carry-on at the suited figure sitting in the window seat. The handsome older gentleman smiled, not lifting his eyes from the copy of the Korean Herald in his hands.

"Wouldn't dream of it," he responded, flipping a large, thin page. Matt Anders had been many things to you in life. Before you were born, he had been your father's best friend. He had been the best man at your parent's wedding. He and his wife, Rebecca, had cared for you and your siblings during your mother's sanitarium stay. He had tutored you for the SAT score that had earned you a full ride to the university that had saddled you with a BS in social work and minor in English literature. Today, he was your attorney. Matt, who had an IQ of 146, had learned basic Korean so that he could translate for you and make sure that your interests were looked after as you settled in. Having him there made you feel one hundred percent more secure about the process. He, for instance, had been the one in negotiations to ask for the very cush business-class fight accommodations you were new settling into.

        "Whatever you would do for him, you'll do for her. I want an equality of treatment clause added with no addendums."

You smiled to yourself as you remembered his exchange with the Hybe's representation. He had asked for things you would have never asked for yourself, and you felt better having access to them knowing that he felt you were deserving. The flight attendant sweetly asked if you would require any refreshments. You asked for two whiskey and cokes, and handed one over to the man beside you. You took a long, refreshing sip.

"Damn it, I wish I had appreciated food more," you sighed, looking ruefully at your glass.

"What are you going to miss the most?" Matt asked before sampling his own beverage.

"Cheese. I can't believe I'm saying that, but in the end I just love cheese. And there are so many kinds I haven't tried. Do you know there's this Italian cheese that comes in the shape of a pear? It's super expensive because of the breed of cow the milk is sourced from. It's supposedly suuuuper creamy. But, hey, now I'll never know if it's as rich and complex as they say..." you took another sip of your drink.

"Caciocavallo Podolico," Matt remarked casually, returning to his newspaper.

"Excuse me?"

"The cheese you described, it's called Caciocavallo Podolico," he reiterated.

"You know, I should be used to it now, but I'm not. Don't think I'll ever be. How on earth do you know this stuff?" you insisted incredulously.

"Read it once," he shrugged, "And it's actually pretty famous as far as cheeses go."

"Catch-a-vayo Picadillo..." you murmured.

"No," Matt interjected succinctly. "Anything you want to go over again? We have the time, Lord knows." You sighed.

"Can't think of anything right now. What did you think of the list of questions I sent you?" 

"Very good," he nodded, "I'll be adding a few of my own, that I think should come from me, if you don't mind." You swirled the ice in your plastic cup.

"Of course not. Thanks again for coming with me, I'd be pretty lost without you." Matt smiled at you again, reaching over to squeeze your arm.

"You'd do just fine. But you would be flying coach." You smirked and cracked open your book. As you flipped to your marked page, a colorful, sturdy rectangle of paper fluttered to the ground at Matt's feet. He reached down and picked it up, regarding it with a curious eye before you could snatch it quickly away and tuck it back between the pages of My Antonia.

"New bookmark?" he queried.

"Something like that," you murmured. You thought he might press you further about the Hangul characters he had surely noted on the back, but just then the captain's voice crackled over the intercom reiterating the weather conditions in Seoul and you took the opportunity to bury your nose back between the pages. You glanced clandestinely over at Matt, who had settled back into the Korean Herald, before pulling the little watercolor card from between the pages where it had been hurriedly concealed. Your eyes traced over the purple clematis trailing elegantly across the illustration as you wondered if 12 hours was, in fact, a millisecond or an eternity.

-End Ch. 1-

He is breathtaking 😍😍😍😍😍😍😍

breathtaking