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violetsiren90 · 6 months

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All I Haven't Said | Namjoon/Reader

💜 Chapter 3: Part 1 💜

Table of Contents: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3 (part 1), Chapter 3 (part 2)

Pairing: idol!Namjoon/f!Reader

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?

Chapter Word Count: ~6k

Chapter Warnings: This fic is 18+, as is all my work and my page as a whole; Talk and depictions of cancer, its treatment, and the symptoms of both; implication of some disregard for personal agency by entertainment industry; character experience and description of disassociation; flashbacks of a distressing situation; soulmate skinship; cursing; conversations surrounding soulmates and sex; character experiences an emotional breakdown; light embarrassment; CONFLICT (you knew it was coming, right?), there is plenty of fluffy stuff too I PROMISE 😂😅

Author's Note: Wow. It's been a minute. If you're still reading this story, thank you for sticking with me, and I apologize for the stretch of time between updates. For the longest time, I just couldn't get this part right...and then it was far too long, so I split it up, and I'm still editing the second, and (potentially) third parts. I got several messages from readers who were worried I might have abandoned this fic, and let me assure you, far from it! I am not a speedy writer, and struggle with doubting if what I'm putting on the page is good enough, so sometimes it takes me a minute to update, but let me assure you, these characters are so special to me and so alive in me, and I ask thank you for your patience as I work to tell their story! Thank you for your lovely words of encouragement and feedback on the story - I appreciate each and every one of them!!

P.S. If you want to join the tag list, drop me a comment or ask!

P.P.S. If no one has told you yet today, you're loved and worthy of love! 🧜‍♀️💜

"I needed the light of your energy, I looked around, devouring hope."

~Pablo Neruda

Chapter 3: My Windows Ache

"FUCKING FINALLY."

"Hey, Di."

"How dare you ghost me for the forty-eight most interesting hours of your life?!"

"Well, I was low-key occupied..."

"TELL ME EVERYTHING."

You sighed, settling down on a shaded bench in the garden grounds of the hospital to which you had escaped for a little privacy and an important phone call or two.

"Uh oh. That was your 'things are complicated' sigh," Diana prodded.

Your eyes tracked a swallowtail as it flitted from azalea to azalea.

"Well, things certainly aren't conventional or straight-forward, that's for sure. But where's the fun in understanding the basic parameters of what you're getting yourself into on a life-altering scale, right?"

"Ummmm...what does that mean? You met him, right?"

You could barely hear your sister's question over the crinkle of plastic in the background.

"Yeah, I did. We bonded too."

"Oh mah gah!!" Diana choked out amidst sounds of crunchy chewing. "So what's he like?"

You thought for a moment.

"He's kind and intelligent. Obviously extremely resilient. His presence is impressive, but he has something about him that's very disarming. He's kind of clumsy and at moments almost...shy? Like, I don't know what I expected, but there's this sweetness to him that you wouldn't anticipate from someone in his position."

"As a cancer patient?"

"As an idol."

You sighed again.

"I don't know...he's..."

Diana let out a strangled sound and uttered an enthusiastic string of words you couldn't make out.

"I have no idea what you just said. Could you please decide whether you want to talk to me or consume an entire bag of Doritos?"

"Hey, it's dinner time here!" she whined, "And I said," her voice quickly changed to take on a smug sing-song tone, "That last sigh was your smitten-kitten one..."

"It was not!" you cut her off sharply. "And get every single idea of Namjoon and I as a couple out of that scheming head of yours because he's very much taken. I'm meeting his fiancée for lunch today."

"What? He's engaged?"

Diana let out an exasperated huff.

"Why didn't they tell you about this right off the bat? You're going to be the soulmate of a married man? What does that even mean? This is bullshit."

You had a hard time disagreeing with her there. It was, in fact, bullshit that Namjoon's team had kept his relationship status a secret. Would it have changed your decision? Probably not. This had been about saving Namjoon's life, not some bizarre attempt at matchmaking. But having a third person to consider, and so intimately, as part of the equation for the rest of your earthly life felt like something you should have been made more immediately aware of. Navigating your boundaries with your soulmate had already been complex enough without introducing the prospect of being a fixture in his married life. When Namjoon had breached the prospect of meeting her, he had been taken aback at your surprise - he, like you, had assumed that Hybe's representation had disclosed everything of significance.

"So it's a good thing I came here as a lifeline, not a mail-order bride," you reminded your sister, "And that seems to be working, by the way. His vitals are already stable. They stabilized overnight, in fact. And his white blood cell count was way up this morning, which is good because I guess he was experiencing immunosuppression from the chemo."

"Oh, nice," Diana murmured.

You had to remind yourself that she was young and excitable, and not to be annoyed at the disappointment that he crept into her tone. However, never one to be down for long, her voice brought its usual bright mischief through the speaker as she posed her following question.

"By the way...how was bonding?"

She had said it with an inescapably salacious undertone, which is why, you told yourself, heat had begun to creep up the base of your neck. You stammered, switching the phone from one ear to the other as you bought yourself time to reassemble your decorum.

"Ah...I mean...it was...intense?"

"Ooooohhhh," Diana trilled, only making you more uncomfortable as the heat spread from your neck to your cheeks, "Intense, huh? Like in a good way?"

You squirmed uncomfortably where you sat, thoughts of Namjoon's pleasure-stricken face and the strength of his hand and how his skin felt against your own hitting your hippocampus like a flash flood.

"Y/n?"

"It was fine, okay? And it worked - so that's what's important."

"....Okaaay..." Diana drawled skeptically.

You scrambled for another talking point.

"That kid visited. The one who came to the States - Jungkook. And another one of the members too - Jim...Jimin? I'm still trying to get their names straight. Some of them don't go by their actual names on stage - Namjoon is RM...but you knew that. Anyway, I digress. Both the boys were really sweet. Seems like they're all very close. I'm supposed to meet the rest of the members at some point next week at dinner. They wanted to have a sort of 'last supper' for us since we're probably going to start rejecting food soon."

"That's cool, you get to meet the whole team! Oh my gosh, you're just going to casually have dinner with BTS...this is still so unreal!"

"Yep," you affirmed, a smile tugging at the corner of your mouth.

Namjoon had hit you with a couple of whoppers last night, but this was one you were actually looking forward to. You told Diana all about your first two days in Seoul - about the impressive hospital and its kind staff. About meeting Namjoon, and his condition. About how everything was still so fresh and new. About how so many things were still unsettled, so many questions unanswered.

"So are you nervous?"

"About what?"

"Meeting his girlfriend."

You had been so wrapped up in filling Diana in on it all that you had actually forgotten about the impending lunch date. As you pulled the phone away from your ear to check the time, your stomach lurched.

"Shit, I better get going. It's almost eleven-thirty." You sprang up and started quickly back toward the building.

"That wasn't an answer," Diana scoffed, "But, hey, sis?"

"Yeah?" You pressed the "up" button on the elevator.

"Don't be."

You smiled.

"Love you, Di."

"Love you too. And so does anyone worth a damn."

After deciding that you smelled like outside, you showered quickly then slipped into caramel-colored corduroys and an off-white tee. You rummaged around the small suitcase Matt had brought from the hotel for you in search of a sweater. After several exasperating minutes of unsuccessful digging, you heaved the bag of laundered clothes that had been returned to you by the hospital staff this morning, having gone through much of the what the Hybe staff had initially pilfered from your luggage in the last two days.

You grumbled in relief as you pulled out your dark green cardigan and slipped it over your shoulders, wondering what the hell the hospital laundry services had done to stretch it out so badly. But, you didn't have time to fuss - so you bunched up the sleeves and headed to the opposite end of the hospital's outdoor grounds where you suspected Namjoon and his guest were already waiting.

The hospital grounds were extensive and beautiful, sporting a garden that extended from the western wing, and a lawn punctuated by traditional pavilions to the east. He had pointed out the one he had reserved to you last night - tucked away in the shade of the large gingko trees flanking the little man-made stream that delineated the border of the grounds.

As you made your way toward the shady spot you chided yourself for being so uneasy - everyone surrounding your soulmate had been as lovely and warm and welcoming as he had been, and the woman he loved would likely be no exception. After Namjoon had disclosed that she was a musician like he was, you had done a bit of online recon before going to bed that night.

Her given name was Kim Hyung-seo, but her stage name, by which she was well-known, was Bibi. She was four years Namjoon's junior, but seemed nearly as ambitious. From what you could tell, she seemed to share a similar drive for artistry and honesty in her musical process as her future husband, and though her tendency for loose-canon candidness had landed her in hot water more than once, her earnest sincerity had engendered her to the hearts of her peers and fans alike. In an industry that seemed to often censor and restrict women, Hyung-seo didn't seem to give much credence to the rules. You liked that. You were actually kind of excited to get to know her a bit and ask her about her art - you had always been a woman's woman, and being in the company of strong feminine energy was something you found deeply empowering and grounding. You anticipated that your soulmate's girlfriend was someone you could respect, and you allowed yourself to venture to hope that feeling would be mutual.

You trotted up the steps of the pavilion and took in its contents. The center had been fitted with a low, round table bearing a colorful and mouthwatering spread of gogi, bibim guksu, gimbap, and banchan. Cushions had been placed on the floor for seating, but none bore the lunch companions you had been anxious not to keep waiting. You were about to take your place at the table when a figure moving near the creek caught your eye.

You moved to the far side of the structure, to see your soulmate deeply engaged in conversation...with a duck.

He was standing near the edge of the water, his tall figure clad in silky modern navy blue hanbok. The top was untied and hung loosely over a white tee - the only contrast to the deep muted tone apart from his cognac loafers. He wore a dark beanie pulled low on his head, which was bowed in affectionate greeting to a juvenile Gadwall who had paddled away from his family to sample the little bits of starchy fluff that the stranger had sprinkled onto the water.

You pressed your palms against the painted wood, taking him in with a smile as he crouched down, extending a bit of bread between his fingers slowly toward the curious little water foul.

This man, you were learning - this erstwhile underground rapper, this leader of men, this brilliant intellectual and genius artist - this great, powerful, impressive man could be called out of his poise in an instant by the sweet and tiny things of the world.

You watched as he waited patiently, the little duck swimming in to-and-fro circuits and drawing closer and closer to Namjoon with each pass, until finally it was close enough to snatch its prize from him and scuttle off quickly to rejoin its mother and siblings. Namjoon chuckled, smiling fondly as he watched the duck make his way back down the creek.

This man, you thought to yourself, could not possibly be real.

"So you're a Kpop idol and a Disney princess, huh?" you called, causing Namjoon to startle and rock back on his heels, landing on his posterior in the damp grass.

You slapped a hand over your mouth to repress the laughter that threatened to bubble up at the site of his large well-dressed figure tipped back haphazardly on the creekside. He huffed a sheepish laugh as he stood, swiping at the back of his pants.

"Give a person a little warning?" he chided lightly, approaching you where you leaned on the railing.

"Sorry," you chuckled, "I didn't want to scare your little friend."

"So you settled for scaring your soulmate? I see how it is."

You smiled and ducked your head.

"Sorry," you murmured, flicking your gaze back to his.

He looked up at you, fixing you with his warm brown eyes and bringing his hands to grip the railing on either side of yours. Suddenly, you felt shy. You shook yourself.

"Hey, hang out with the ducks and you'll end up with a wet tail," you teased.

Namjoon's eyebrows drew together in mock disgust.

"Yikes, you're almost as bad as Seokjin hyung," he remarked disparagingly.

You shrugged, smirking.

"I have no idea what that means, but whoever Seokjin is, he must have a superior sense of humor."

Namjoon was opening his mouth to respond, but was cut short, as the tiny motion of your shoulders had slid one of your hands just a centimeter down the railing and barely flush with his own. The slight contact was enough to send sudden little tingles of comfort shooting up your arm and across your chest. In a millisecond you felt yourself relax where you hadn't realized you were tense. You could have imagined it, but you thought you felt Namjoon press his hand just a fraction more into yours as he swallowed and heaved a deep sigh.

You reminded yourself for the hundredth time since you arrived that this was biological. Clinical. The means to an end. Damn, he felt good though.

You found yourself snatching your hands away to push up your cardigan sleeves and then stuff them into your pants pockets where they would stop confusing you. You distracted yourself from Namjoon's subtle look of disappointment with an apology.

"Sorry about your pants," you rocked back on your heels as you looked out over the little ribbon of water rippling over its stony bed behind him.

He glanced over his shoulder and brushed himself off again before waving a hand in dismissal. Your eyes focused back on the blue silk.

"I didn't realize this was a fancy lunch. I feel under-dressed."

"You look nice," Namjoon rebutted, as he glanced over your attire. Then his brow pinched as his eyes halted on your torso, flitting over your arms and shoulders. "But isn't that -"

"Joon?"

A voice behind you caused you to turn.

Standing at the top of the steps was the woman it belonged to. She was tall and beautifully slender - her svelte figure draped in a slinky chrome dress with a triangular cutout that displayed the smooth skin of her upper abdomen. Her glossy raven tresses were styled away from her face in a high ponytail, drawing sharp attention to her sultry features. Her smoky eyes glanced over your form with a lazy intensity, lids half-raised over dark irises, and her pouted lips pursed in appraisal. You wondered just exactly how many ridiculously beautiful people traveled in Namjoon's circle.

She stepped toward you, her chunky pink heels marking her confident strides on the floorboards, before bowing and extending a small hand with sharp white acrylics and icy sliver rings.

"I'm the girlfriend!" she hummed, her deep, velvety voice matching her features.

You bowed in return before shaking her hand politely.

"So nice to meet you," you smiled, "I'm -

"The soulmate," she cut you off, glancing over your shoulder at Namjoon, who still stood outside the pavilion, "of that weirdo." '

Namjoon circled around to the entrance of the pavilion before joining you with a wry smile. He introduced the two of you formally, before being the first to take a seat at the table. Hyung-seo joined him, shimmying her cushion closer to Namjoon's as she used a pair of chopsticks to load her plate with selections from the spread.

"Oh my god, I'm STARVING," she gushed, staring at Namjoon impatiently as he took a bit of kimchi fried rice and a few slices of samgyeobsal.

"My stomach feels like it could take some real food for the first time in a while," he said with eager enthusiasm, glancing up at you with a smile of gratitude.

Hyung-seo tapped her chopsticks against her plate as she watched you survey the dishes before you. You took some kimchi fried rice and carefully ladled out a small bowl of doenjang-jjigae. You pulled your hands into your lap and watched the steam rise from the fragrant broth.

"Ah, unnie..." Hyung-seo began before Namjoon shushed her and lightly tapped her knee.

You glanced between them in confusion. Namjoon merely smiled at you, and you smiled back, glancing down from his warm gaze to your plate.

"Oh for the love of god, would you take a bite?"

You looked up rather startled at Hyung-seo, who was leaned forward, her desperate eyes tracking your movements, and the chopsticks clutched in her right hand hovering over a plump, sweating mandu.

You blinked, fumbling for your chopsticks as your soulmate admonished the woman next to him. You took a heap of fried rice onto your chopsticks and brought it to your lips, looking questioningly between the two across from you. Hyung-seo groaned in impatience, her head lolling back.

"In Korea, the eldest eats first," Namjoon offered in soft explanation, his features trained in apology.

As realization washed over you, you all but shoved the rice into your mouth, hoping to swallow your embarrassment with it, followed quickly by Hyung-seo, who popped two mandu into her mouth consecutively. Her eyes rolled back as she let out a groan of appreciation. You watched Namjoon carefully savor a piece of samgyeobsal. He smiled a dimpled smile. You smiled to yourself as you tucked into your fried rice. Namjoon's fiancée watched you both. Her cheeks were full, but she wasn't smiling.

Your little trio ate in contented silence until your visitor, having satisfied her belly, fixed her eyes on you with a different sort of eagerness. The time for questions had come, you realized. You set down your chopsticks, taking a drink of water.

"I'm sure there is so much we'd like to know about each other," you offered with a smile.

She pulled her lips into a brief grin, sipping from her own glass as her eyes trailed over you. You cleared your throat.

"So, I read that y-"

"How does it feel?" she interrupted, starring at you raptly. You blinked.

"I'm sorry?"

"When he touches you." She licked her lips. "I heard it's like cumming. I heard it's better."

Namjoon slid a large hand over her thigh. You saw it squeeze.

"Jagiya..." he murmured.

You glanced at him and gave him a reassuring grin which he returned, though not as readily as before. Not the start to the conversation you had hoped for, but she was living up to her brusque reputation. You let yourself laugh a little at the question, and saw Hyung-seo's mouth curl up a bit at the corners, though it didn't reach her eyes.

"It's nothing like sex, actually," you mused, trying to be as forthcoming as possible without abandoning politeness. "Strange, I guess, because it is all about physical exchange and contact. But...it's more like...nourishment? I don't know...I haven't had long enough to think about it."

You had had quite long enough to know that it was ineffable, but in the most intoxicating, magnificent way - and a hell of a lot better than most of the sex you'd had. This, however, wasn't the time and place for descriptions of the bond that could be ripped from the pages of drugstore romance novels.

You found yourself turning to Namjoon with a questioning gaze, as if to ask if he had anything to add. He nodded in response, not meeting your eyes.

"Yeah, it's different," he murmured succinctly.

Hyung-seo hummed in assent, chewing on her lip, her gaze still roving over you. You decided to try again.

"So how did you m-"

"How do you do it?"

You stifled a small sigh that threatened to escape your lips.

"Do what?"

"Use the bond. Like, do you hold hands, or...or what?"

You looked to Namjoon who murmured something in Korean that sounded like a warning. This wasn't going as you'd hoped. Her questions were natural ones, but not the first you thought you'd be asked, and not so pointedly. In fact, they were ones she should probably have put to her partner. Had they not spoken since you arrived?

"The bond works with any physical contact. When I first got here, I had so many questions myself. The hospital personnel were very informative while helping us navigate our questions. I still know very little, but as someone whose partner is bonded, I'm sure they would have someone who could better answer these types of questions than I can," you offered.

It was the opposite of forthcoming, but you were absolutely not prepared to launch into a conversation about you and her fiancé spooning in your undergarments. The trajectory of the exchange had to go elsewhere, so you resolved to take the wheel.

"Is there anything you'd like to know about me? Maybe I could tell you a little about myself. My job in the states wasn't glamorous, but I loved it. I was -"

"A social worker, I know," she murmured with a sigh, and Namjoon's head snapped toward her.

You could feel your confusion pulling into a frown. In your beat of silence, the woman in front of you gave into another impulse as she placidly launched into an answer of your unasked question.

"You're a social worker from the West coast, oldest of three kids. Your father died when you were ten. You graduated summa cum laude, and chose a career in women's services. You support your mother's living - you have been, long-term. Your brother is an engineer and your sister is in nursing school. You've never committed any crimes, but you were arrested once in college at some political protest about immigrant rights. Your blood type is O positive. You don't seem very good with your money, but you've never asked for financial assistance. You've never been married."

Silence.

Your ears were ringing.

You blinked as you tried to focus, grappling for something on which to stabilize your composure. This isn't how this was supposed to go. You felt your control slipping as the words pierced you in echoes that knocked you back down each time you reached out to steady your mind.

"Your father died when you were young..."

"...You support your mother's living..."

"...You don't seem very good with your money"

Your mind whirred as the silence closed in, and for a moment you were suspended.

Diana and Henry weren't pillars, you thought - they were tiny little babies as your mother clutched them on either side of her prone, shaking form as shovels of dirt were shifted back into the gaping hole that held a pine box covered in flowers. You looked down at the flag in your hands, and then up at the white flowers, still fresh and blooming, being caked and sodden with damp soil. You felt something rising up in your chest - something that never reached the surface. You turned from the wound in the earth as Dianna reached out and tugged at your arm. The babies looked afraid. You couldn't see your mother's face from where it was buried in her skirts. You tucked the flag reverently under your arm and took the little hands.

Somewhere outside the amniotic sack of your mind, you saw Namjoon's figure stand. You heard his garbled voice speak to the woman beside him. He was angry, his voice pitched low. Hers in response was sharp and high.

You took a deep breath and exhaled. Your chest was beginning to labor and your inhaler was on the fifth floor of a building on the other side of the property.

You willed yourself back into this world you had chosen. This place which, like the others you had inhabited, would discover its new tenant didn't take long to adapt. She was built to withstand.

"Namjoon," you called softly, as you looked up at your soulmate. His eyes snapped to yours, his face showing subtle but unmistakable signs of distress - eyes reflecting remorsefully and jaw flexing.

You smiled at him gently, reassuringly.

"It's alright," you insisted, your eyes not leaving his.

You saw his shoulders sag, and his head bow. His hand came up to scrub over his face. You realized then that she was looking at you. Hyung-seo's expression was apprehensive, her eyes scouring your face.

"This must be an extremely difficult thing for you, whatever the reason," you offered earnestly.

She regarded you in silence, her eyes flickering like the flame of a candle.

"I would say, 'I understand', but I don't. I have no idea how hard it must be to fall in love with someone only to watch them suffer at the hands of disease, and to suffer so greatly and to come so close to losing them that you turn to finding a person who can save them, and who - if they are saved by - they will need and desire for the rest of their natural life. A person who isn't you."

Her eyes quivered as they held you in their gaze.

"I know I'm supposed to be a saving grace," you continued, having gained your ground, "But I know I could also look a lot like a threat. Trust me when I say that you can be open and honest with me about how you feel. This is a difficult situation where we're going to feel burdened by things we shouldn't. Namjoon and I discussed this."

You smiled again at your soulmate, who was watching you with relief and something else in his features. You wanted to call it admiration, but you had only known him for two whole days.

"Whatever fears you're carrying that make you feel like a burden in this moment, could I ask you to set them aside? For a chance to get to know me in the real way that you deserve? This isn't a trap. Or a cage. We've all chosen to be here."

You regarded Hyung-seo in the silence that followed. Her eyes had fallen from your face - they glanced over toward where Namjoon stood, barely raising toward his figure, when she suddenly dropped her face into her hands and began shaking with sobs.

You let out a sigh of relief too soft to be heard by the others.

"Fuck...." Hyung-seo choked out against her palms, "I'm such a piece of shit..."

Namjoon moved to place a hand over her back and assure her she wasn't. You wondered what she felt when he touched her. Your heart ached with pity for her. Namjoon drew her into his chest and held her as she cried her makeup off. He stroked her hair as her regarded her with weary, worried eyes. You couldn't help but feel that you were encroaching on a private moment...expect that you were a part of this as much as they were. Was there a lifetime of this feeling to be endured? You sighed again.

"I'm gonna give you guys a minute," you whispered as you clambered to your feet.

Namjoon nodded silently over the woman in his arms.

You watched scattered leaves from the boughs overhanging the far side of the stream spin as the were swept away. Your eyes tracked one in particular, twirling as it sailed around a protruding rock and under an arching root, only to be stopped as it was doubled at the middle by a thin, swaying reed. You found your feet moving to where the water rushed around it as it billowed helplessly on both sides of its obstruction like a flag of surrender. You slipped off your shoes and rolled up your pants. You waded into the cool, clear water and, reaching out, tugged the little leaf free. You watched as it sailed on, disappearing around a bend in the waterway. You glanced back up at the pavilion. If you could have been sure it was the right move, you would have left altogether, but you wouldn't want your sudden departure to be taken the wrong way.

You sighed. You pulled your phone out of your back pocket as you waded back out of the stream. Dead. You were bad about keeping it charged, and your conversation with Diana had drained its aged battery. You wished you had a book. Glancing about, your eyes caught a fairly large patch of clover flowers a few yards down the bank, and crossing the soft grass, you sank down in its center.

You smiled weakly to yourself as you plucked one of the little white buds near the base of its stem. You and your siblings would spend hours at the park under the shade turning sprawling patches of the puffy blooms into garlands, crowns, bracelets, and rings. You picked another flower and tied its supple stem into a knot just under the other flower's head.

By the time Namjoon came to join you, sinking down across from you in little clover patch you had fashioned yourself a crown and a necklace, and were working on a garland to send to Diana. You set down your handiwork to look up at him. He was regarding you with soft, somber eyes and a little smile that looked like one he didn't have the energy for but couldn't help besides. He picked a flower and twirled it between his fingers.

"I'm so sorry," he murmured, "If I would have thought that things would go that way, I wouldn't have insisted on her meeting you before she left. She's going on tour and I thought...well, I thought if she just met you her anxieties would be eased."

You nodded thoughtfully.

"Thank you for your patience and kindness. She was out of line saying those things to you like that...you were...that was everything she needed to hear, I think."

You cast your eyes down as you tied off another knot in the garland.

"Is she okay?" you asked quietly.

Namjoon sighed.

"She's...embarrassed. Ashamed of herself. She wasn't in any condition to finish that conversation, so I suggested she go home."

"Understandable," you assented, nodding again.

Silence hung between you for a moment before you raised your eyes to his again.

"Namjoon...there are some things I think we should discuss."

He nodded earnestly, his eyes falling, brow creasing and tongue pressing into his cheek.

"I know we haven't had much time," you continued, "And we have literally the rest of our lives...but, I think we should be on the same page about what we've been told about each other. I think it will make this whole process easier? I don't know. There are some things you assume you'll have to tell someone at a certain point in knowing them - some things that are...deeply personal..."

"Aren't things between us already that way? Deeply personal?"

You looked up and those half-lidded brown eyes were looking right at you in a way you weren't prepared for, in a way that flooded your veins. Soulmate. You wanted to touch him. You wanted to feel him and what he brought to you. You wanted him to feel it too. But you didn't know him, and he didn't know you, and he needed healing, which is why you were here. He loved someone who loved him whose lives you were disrupting. This feeling was basal, you knew - came with the territory...but you were going to need some strong boundaries if this was going to function. You were going to need honesty, for a start.

"They are," you relented slowly, "But I have questions that I need answers to. Your trust in me is clear, and I appreciate that...but...I need time to get my footing here."

Namjoon nodded in assent.

"I get that. So, what do you want to know, specifically? I'll answer any question you have."

You nodded gratefully.

"Thank you. Do you think I could take a little time to think about what I want to ask? I'm kind of still processing everything that just happened."

"Of course," he was quick to answer, "Whenever you want to talk, just let me know. Did I say how sorry I am?" he asked smiling weakly as he looked up from where he struggled to knot the stem of one flower around another, suddenly looking down again when its stem snapped between his fingers.

You huffed out a little laugh.

"Yes, you did," you did, you answered, offering him a rueful grin.

He picked another flower only to realize he had cut its stem too short for his purposes. He tossed the little blossoms back into the grass.

"Can you make me one?" he asked pathetically, pouting at the garland in your hands.

You chuckled as you tied off the one in your lap and leaned forward to slip it over his head. He adjusted it around his neck, looking down at it with a pleased expression.

"You know...if you can believe it, we actually got lucky in there," he smirked, his forehead creasing as he raised his brow.

You gave him a look of confusion. His eyes trailed over your torso again before flitting back up to yours.

"She didn't notice that you're wearing my sweater."

You froze. Then you blinked down at the giant green cardigan that had, in fact, slipped down off of one shoulder. Then you gaped at him.

He snickered.

You scrambled to yank the sweater over your head, even as he laughed and protested, you blustered apology after expletive after apology.

"Shit, it was in my laundry bag!" You whined in explanation as you shook it out and began to fold it in your lap.

"Stop, just keep it on," Namjoon insisted, still clearly amused at your state of panic.

"I have one just like this. Like, identical but obviously smaller. I just assumed it had stretched out in the wash..." You extended the sweater toward him.

He shook his head.

"Just give it back later, you'll be cold." He looked up at your exasperated expression and started laughing again.

"Stooop..." you whined in embarrassment, and when he only laughed harder, you tossed the sweater in his face. As he balled it up with a smile where it fell down into his lap, his smart watch trilled. He glanced down at it.

"I've got labs scheduled now," he sighed.

"Hopefully they'll bring more good news," you offered, at which he nodded. "I seem to be getting the job done, if I do say so myself," you teased, leaning back on your hands and offering him a smug look.

He nodded, tongue in his cheek, then pushed to stand - with effort, you noticed - and extended a hand down to you. You didn't realize what the little smile on his mouth was for until you accepted his hand with your own, by habit, and were nearly knocked back off your feet as the bond surged through you like a wave of mind-numbing euphoria that left you unable to process information outside of what was sent coursing through your every cell from where he touched you.

You blinked up at him as you got your wits about you, and he was looking down at you through little slits in his barely-open eyes, head tilted back and mouth hanging open - little smirk still tugging at its corner. You pursed your lips, trying not to grin back.

"You did that on purpose," you chided, trying and failing to train your features in a scowl.

His smirk deepened.

"What? I was just being courteous..."

You rolled your eyes.

"I'm feeling a little weak, I think it would be best if you helped me back to the room," he muttered slyly, turning to head back toward the building.

The smile that was dimpling his cheek and creasing the corners of his eyes did something to your stomach that had you yanking your hand out of his grasp.

"Yeah, right," you huffed, forging a few steps ahead of him, "You're putting a lot by your poorly reputed coordination to think you could walk while I was touching you."

He let out a laugh behind you. It was loud and bright and had you biting back a smile to match it.

"What happened to getting the job done, sweater thief?" he called after you teasingly.

Shit. Yeah. Boundaries. You were going to need them.

_________________________________________________

Well, they met! Next part to follow soon.

Thank you for sticking with me here!

Tag list: @butterymin @little-dark-empress @aretha170 @kamilamb @jlee97 @thephotoend @callmenoona25 @felicityroth @softforyoongles @berlianv @honneypies @deadrose287 @n0pesir

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armpirate · 2 months

Text

Soundleasure | Choi San || CH. 6

Pairings: Soft!San x fem!reader || Strangers to lovers, fake dating

Genre: smut, angst, fluff, online sex, ghosting

Warnings: inexperienced!San, fem!reader, masturbation, online sex, camboy, first times.

Summary: You can do whatever you please and be whoever you want on the Internet. And San knew that a little bit too well.

After finally following all the signs the universe was throwing at him, he started living a double life that no one was aware of. Everyone in his daily life knew him as Choi San, the reserved and quiet boy who wouldn't raise his voice, and would barely communicate with anyone outside of his comfort group. But only a few knew him as Soundleasure, the man with a sexy voice and a filthy mind that had their toes curling just with his narrations.

He never thought of the possibility of those two lives ever meeting, he had always tried for them to follow a parallel route and had always played safe to keep his friends from ever suspecting that side even existed. But his plans will start to crumble when he gets a little too close with one of his subscribers and she invades his real-self and altergo's universes without being able to stop it.

Y/n will not only help him to keep his secret from his circle, but will also show him there's more of Soundleasure in him than he'd like to admit.

Previous || Next

MASTERLIST

Aprox. time of reading: 14 minutes

Y/n stopped in the middle of her office, finally lifting her gaze from the screen of her phone to see a big bucket of pink camellias invading her desk. She pursed her lips in her confusion, looking back at Jennifer's desk to find her in her business, head almost stuck to the screen as she worked on one of the sheets she had asked her to take care of.

—Jen —the girl lifted her head, looking around lost as she tried to tell where the voice came from—, can you come here for a second? —she waved her hand, getting her secretary to get that move from the corner of her eye.

She moved almost instantly, dragging her office chair as far from the desk as possible to make a subtle trot to where her boss was.

—The delivery man sent it this morning while you were in a meeting —she let her know—. They're beautiful, aren't they?

—Umm well, they aren't my favorite type, but they're cute —she shrugged.

—I believe there's also a note —Jennifer let her know, pointing at the bucket.

Y/n stepped towards the bucket, finding indeed a pale blue note among the flowers. When she took it, she could see Jennifer's playful smile waiting for her to read out loud the note, although she opted to read it silently instead.

"I adore you, as certain dark things are to be admired -in secret, between the shadow and the soul" xx

—It just has a Pablo Neruda quote on it, with a few words changed —she mentioned as she frowned—. Did the delivery man say who it came from?

—No, he just asked for you and left it in your office since you weren't here —Y/n tilted her head at Jennifer's information.

For a minute, she hoped those flowers would be coming from San. A cheesy, yet distant way to try to get her attention back after literally disappearing from everywhere but Soundleasure, but she knew it was just that: hope. Someone that disappeared that way and didn't dare to give an explanation as to why he didn't ever reply back to her wouldn't bother sending flowers. And it wasn't like he knew where she worked either.

Could be they were from the new match on Tinder that would take her on a date later? Although the quote in the note didn't make much sense. But it wasn't like she expected anyone there to be a perfectionist with something like that to know what that quote meant.

—Anyways —Y/n rolled her eyes, dropping the note to her desk—, how's your sister? Did she adapt well to college?

Not long ago Jennifer seemed more stressed than usual, always taking guilty looks at her screen to go back to the computer's monitor and enter a cycle that seemed exhausting from afar. Until Y/n asked her to her office to learn what kept her so distracted. The fact that her little sister was moving in to Boston to start the new semester there, while Jennifer wasn't able to assist her because she needed to be in her workplace made her be everywhere, but nowhere at the same time. At least until Y/n managed to give her a few days off so she could be able to guide her, and take her to all the important places she'd need to know while she stayed there.

—I think she adapted better than I ever did —she joked—. Thanks again for those days off. I know it wasn't the best time to be missing.

—Don't worry. I managed to work well —Y/n tried to calm her down—. You've always done a good job, and you've never missed a day. It was the least I could do for you.

Jennifer's smile widened at Y/n's words, feeling proud by the several praises she threw at her while reassuring her everything was alright.

—Do you need anything else?

—No, sorry to have bothered you with that —she shook her hand in the air, pointing at the bucket—. You can go back to your things.

Jennifer smiled and nodded one last time, giving her boss one last look before she stepped outside the office, closing the door behind her. The focus in her work lasted two minutes only, before she could sense the tension from everyone outside. As she lifted her eyes from the screen, she saw everyone in her team, including Jennifer, looking at the four people carrying boxes filled with their things. All of the members of her team lowered their gaze, looking back at their tables with guilt as their ex colleagues walked past them.

She knew everyone was worried about the ramp down, that was why she held a meeting with the team to reassure them that they were going nowhere. She gave no explanations as to why, she just let them know it was certain they'd keep their jobs. Although her choice not to tell why her team stayed, while the others had to go without two members each, had her receiving accusing looks almost instantly. Of course everyone would think her team was kept intact because she was the big boss' daughter, instead of thinking she did something that neither of the other supervisors would think of doing. And it wasn't like she expected anyone to reduce their salary for someone else either.

If she felt uncomfortable before, it got worse after it was known who was leaving the company. It was evident. When she stepped in a room, everyone either shut up or changed their conversation drastically -and she had been there long enough to tell when the conversation made no sense because they weren't talking about that since the beginning. And it got even worse with the people at her level, throwing condescending looks at her because she managed to get her staff intact, because she thought she was "better than them".

It didn't matter how uncomfortable she had to feel, it was the price to pay for her position. Being one of the managers, and at the same time the daughter of the one in charge of everyone, wasn't an easy task. Definitely not emotionally.

She remembered a few years back, when she first joined the company as a normal agent, and as soon as it was known whose daughter she was, when she drove almost every day back home while crying, barely able to see through the blurry vision. She stepped inside the office and she was alone. Her supervisors gave her the cold treatment because they knew she would receive a promotion no matter what, her colleagues ignored her because they only saw her name and not how she was carrying the work of the whole team on her back. And just when it all started getting better, everything was going back to that dark place she thought she managed to leave. With the only difference that she grew some thicker skin, evolving those tears into some unexplainable rage and some muttering nonsense that she hissed to herself until she closed the door to her penthouse.

And that day would be no different. She kept ranting while being stuck in traffic, saying out loud everything she wasn't allowed to say back in the office because she was expected to keep her composure.

—Y'all think you could do my work better than me... Fine, take it. I'm so fucking done at this point —she huffed, rolling her eyes as her hands worked on the wheel—. Jesus fucking Christ, why couldn't my dad just let me stay at home and be a proper daddy's girl? Why do you —she pointed at her reflection in the rear view— also need to prove anything? Seriously.

At that point she was more upset at herself than her situation. She hated how weak she felt, how she allowed those looks and unheard comments get to her, when she had no reason to let them all get over her mood like that.

—And why did I even agree to go on that date now? —she sobbed, getting inside— You're so dumb, really.

It wasn't like it was going to be something new. That guy probably would try to shoot his shot, try his luck with her while being an ass, and probably would run away as soon as he saw that wouldn't work with her.

She was too busy talking to herself, regretting her decisions, to be able to calculate the moves of her car properly. Before she was able to, a cracking sound was heard above the music that was playing on the radio, making her heart stop almost instantly.

If she doubted things could get any worse, there was the confirmation that indeed they could. She moved the wheel all over again, redirecting her car and giving it more space to fit into the space, just seeing the black paint of her car on the orange column. Her heart stopped when she got out, to check the disaster her distractions made. And right at the worst time, because she had just enough money to make it through the month. That repair was something she probably wouldn't be able to handle anytime soon.

"Why couldn't this happen last month?"

San had his two hands in his pockets, overhearing Wooyoung and Mingi bickering on each of his sides, using him as a shield whenever the other got too heated up in the conversation.

—I'm just saying you always choose what we eat when we go out —Mingi complained.

—That's not true. Last time it was San the one choosing.

—But San's are always a good pick. We ended up in McDonald's because you insisted on going to the empty Greek restaurant.

—Because we always eat the same —Wooyoung replied back, stepping forward to be able to see Mingi.

—There are a lot of Greek restaurants in Boston, and you took us to the worst one —his index accused him, pointing towards his face to remark the fact that their lunch was more expensive because of him.

—Didn't we eat already? —San sighed, stepping in to put a stop to an argument that had been going for way too long— Wooyoung could have no idea it was a shitty place, it's not his fault. It's already done, so let's just enjoy the rest of the day.

—Thank you —he applauded, dedicating him a complicit smile.

He could understand Mingi's annoyance. With his scholar salary, Mingi made enough to pay the bills and treat himself to something every once in a while. It was fair he was annoyed because he spent that part of his money on food he didn't even like. But blaming Wooyoung for it wouldn't change things. He didn't make them eat there on purpose, San knew he was already feeling guilty even if he hid it with that sassy attitude that got both of them on their nerves sometimes. He was certain his friend was already thinking of a way to make it up for them, even if there wasn't anything to really make up for.

—What if I buy you some ice cream? —Wooyoung walked in front of San, now standing between the two.

—Ice cream? Do you think I'm six? —Mingi inquired, frowning at the suggestion— Ice cream and I pick what we watch on TV today.

—Aren't the boys coming over tonight though? —San reminded, sure that both of them had mentioned how the group would reunite in their apartment.

—That's true —Wooyoung gasped.

—Then tomorrow. I pick what we watch tomorrow.

San couldn't help but smile when he realized the argument came to an end with Wooyoung wrapping one of his arms around Mingi's neck and ghosting his stomach with the bandaged one, while he just tried to keep walking and get away from his embrace -even if that meant dragging him on their way to the ice cream shop.

He was immersed in the silence that peace brought, at least until Mingi spoke again.

—San...

—Hmm? —he barely lifted his head to him.

—Isn't that your girlfriend?

Girlfriend? What girlfriend?

San looked confused at him, frowning while his friend just gave him a concerned look before he pointed to one spot in concrete to redirect San's eyes there.

All the muscles in his body tensed when he indeed saw Y/n from afar, trying to think of the best way to get out of there smoothly, but just being able to damn himself for ever bringing up that she was ever his girlfriend.

He understood why his friends were looking at him like that. Meters away, Y/n was smiling cozily to another taller man, tilting her head as they talked. To them that looked suspicious, and it made complete sense from their perspective.

—No, it's not —San assured—. The ice cream shop is in that direction.

—Sannie, that is your girlfriend —Wooyoung confirmed—. She just... cut her hair?

At that moment was when he regretted showing him a better picture of Y/n, where it was easier to spot her features. He never thought they'd ever come across her in the middle of the street, he actually never thought he'd see her or talk to her ever again, but there she was.

Either he did something, or he'd have to give a lot of explanations after Wooyoung pulled a scene. Which was something bound to happen by the way Y/n and that boy kept getting closer.

Y/n looked at Oliver, finding herself surprised at the way everything turned out quite well. He picked a coffee shop to have a good chat, crowded enough for her to feel comfortable, but not that crowded so they wouldn't be able to keep up with what the other said. And he was also a ten physically, with those big green eyes that made his caramel short hair stand out. He was the best thing that happened to her on that awful day, and it was a reality that she'd go on a second date with him if he ever talked with her again after they parted ways in a matter of minutes.

—Before I forget, thanks for the flowers.

—What flowers? —he asked, with a timid smile.

—Oh, it wasn't you? —she frowned.

He shook his head again, leaving her back not knowing who was the person behind them. Although it wasn't like she genuinely cared about it. It probably was someone in the company playing with her.

Oliver stepped a bit closer, making it clear at that point what his intentions were.

Her tongue moved over her lower lip, moistening it up and getting ready for something that was obvious to happen. Their heads moved to link their lips together, there was no way that anything could ruin that.

But oh, how wrong she was.

She wasn't allowed to advance much more, before her lips collided against a dry and soft surface, opening her eyes wide to find a different face receiving a kiss on the cheek.

—What the fuck is wrong with you? —Oliver pushed the boy away from them.

But he held onto Y/n's arm, pulling her to him while she just tried to get rid of his grip. She stopped resisting when he finally turned to her completely. Confusion, shock and panic slowly left her body to be replaced by rage.

—You —she squinted her eyes at him.

—I need you. Just one second —he begged.

—Do you know him? —Oliver questioned.

His expression totally changed in a matter of seconds. That cute and soft smile was gone, and he was giving her a furrowed look, filled with annoyance. His tone was also harsh on her, as if she was the one to blame for what happened.

—Yeah, but...

San held her arm, with a desperate grip that wasn't that hard to hurt her. He just wanted her to follow him inside the coffee show she was standing outside of, away from the curious looks his friends were probably giving them.

—What are you doing? —she finally asked, getting away from his fingers when they reached the corridor to the restrooms— One day you disappear, and the other you get in the middle of a kiss? What's wrong with you?

—I know I messed it up big time with you. I know I have no right to ask anything from you, but I seriously need your help.

Y/n scoffed, thinking he had to be playing with her. San wasn't actually asking her a favor after basically ghosting her for no reason, wasn't he?

—My friends think you're my girlfriend —he informed her quickly—. I didn't know what to say when they caught me talking with you. And now they saw you with that other guy, while thinking you're still dating me, and...

—And why didn't you tell them we broke up? —she asked, lifting one of her eyebrows— I don't know, make something up. I bet they're more than used to it.

He couldn't blame her for being mad at him for ignoring her, and he wasn't surprised at the idea she got of him after he disappeared out of fear. The obvious answer from her was that he was a player, who texted her until it stopped being fun to jump onto the next one.

—If I tell them we broke up, they'll be a pain in the ass about it.

First girlfriend, and it barely lasted a month. He could already hear Wooyoung's and Mingi's comments while teasing him.

—Remind me how that's my problem?

—Pretend to be my girlfriend. Just for today —he asked her.

—To be your what? —she cackled— Are you insane?

Before she was able to reject him a second time, San sank to his knees in front of her, making some of the tables near the corridor, and those who were able to witness what was going on, turn to them.

—I'll do whatever you want —he assured her—. Just tell me what you need.

She rolled her eyes, shaking her head while trying to keep him from rubbing that soft spot she had that'd lead her to blindly help others.

He didn't deserve it.

—I'll return the subscriptions if you want. But please...

—The subscriptions? —she suddenly asked.

If he gave her back that money, she'd be able to pay for the repair of the car with no problems.

San gave her hopeful eyes as he looked up to her after her question. He didn't know that linking their pupils together could be the biggest mistake for her, but she still dropped her gaze, trying to let him know that she wouldn't do it.

Who in their sane mind would help someone to convince his friends they were dating when he ghosted her weeks back? It made no sense.

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llovelymoonn · 2 years

Note

Could you do a web weaving about being in love with your best friend who’s moving away and you’ll never know how they feel?

greg sellers notes from neruda's ghost: "10 may 2018" \\ balint zsako blood orange (2016) \\ rosa linn snap \\ ana mendieta nile born (1984) \\ louise glück \\ julia soboleva the blip (2020) \\ walter benjamin selected writings, vol i: 1913-1926: "one way street" (tr. edmund jephcott) (via @soracities) \\ don snyder aquarian odyssey: a photographic trip into the sixties (1979)

kofi

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darsynia · 1 year

Text

The Light of Hidden Flowers | Oneshot

gif by @doctorstrangegifsparadise

Summary: As he searches millions of universes for a way to defeat Thanos without losing anyone in the process, Stephen can't help but look up his beloved Hope. He knows he shouldn't meddle in the events of worlds not his to influence, but makes an exception this time. Length/Warnings: 1,703, tw homelessness Notes: Written on impulse to cheer up @sobeautifullyobsessed who could also use some hope. Based in the Friday In the Park With Stephen universe, set during 14,000,604, with an alternate universe version of her OC Hope Collins (with her permission, and thank you!)

Please consider helping her out at her ko-fi or with a morale boost by reading and responding to something she's written!

I love you as the plant that never blooms but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers; thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance, risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. ~Translated selection from Sonnet XVII, by Pablo Neruda

The Light of Hidden Flowers

Not all universes are happy. Stephen knows this, has been faced with it multiple times during his Time Stone fueled search for answers… but seeing a devastated, depopulated New York in a few universes is less painful than what he sees here. He can imagine that deaths were quick, or that loved ones are holed away somewhere safe and hidden where he might never find them, and those thoughts bring a bizarre kind of comfort.

But the combination of finding a normal-looking universe without Hope and then immediately stepping into a universe where she’s downtrodden and in misery… it’s almost too much to bear.

Worse still, she’s clearly never met him before.

Unacceptable.

Tony’s pet project Peter would call this a side quest, but Stephen calls it justice. He knows himself, and it doesn’t take that much time to discover that this universe’s Stephen Strange is no sorcerer-- in fact, he’s a lonely workaholic, more dedicated and less egotistical, if the news articles are to be trusted. Well, no matter. If this universe needs him, it’ll call, whether or not the man’s wrist-deep in the task of saving someone’s life.

“Wake up!” Stephen tells his counterpart after spending an hour poking around in the quiet, sterile apartment. It’s too big, too empty, and oddly enough, too full of books of poetry and obviously thumbed-through romance novels. There’s just longing, and nowhere near enough satisfaction.

The solution is staring him in the face: this heartsore, Solemn version of himself needs color in his life, he needs joy, love, a reason for living.

He needs Hope.

Solemn startles awake, hand scrabbling for his wired alarm clock as if he could fight Stephen off with a symbol of time itself.

“I’ve finally truly lost it, haven’t I?” Solemn says bleakly, when his sleep-crusted eyes focus on his assailant.

“Wouldn’t you like to be found, instead?”

The bark of laughter he receives in response sounds so pained that Stephen almost wonders what it would be like to swap this man, send him on an adventure of a lifetime. Then again, if he could take someone with him, he’d have taken Not-His-Hope far away from this twisted-axis world and put her in the previous one, the universe that had already lost her.

“Trust me, buddy, no one’s looking.”

“You’re wrong,” Stephen says warmly, throwing an outfit at Solemn. “I’ll prove it to you, but if you hurt her, I’ll come back and set your whole world on fire.”

“Her?” Solemn scoffs-- but his hands speed up in their task of dressing. “What are you, the Ghost of Divorces Past?”

Stephen re-assesses how fair he’s been to this version of himself. If he’d married Christine and then lost her, instead of driving her away out of pain and ingratitude, he could very easily see himself becoming a sad recluse, wedded to his work.

“Sure I am. You have a spare room, yes?” he asks his other self, stalking out into the hallway to flip on the light and open various doors. Yes. Perfect. The overpriced apartment is just as he remembered, with two separate ‘master’ bedrooms of equal size-- and a shared luxury bathroom between. Just enough privacy and lack thereof.

“You do know it’s three in the morning,?” Solemn asks from behind him. “You’re not making me go out, are you? It’s freezing.”

Stephen whirls around. “Not fit for stray dogs, this weather, yes?” When Solemn just stands there looking confused, he pushes further. “Who or what do you think I am?”

“I think you’re a deranged version of me. You’re clearly here, I can touch you--” Solemn reaches out with one confident finger and pokes. “--but as to why, I couldn’t say. Cosmic realignment?”

“Something like that. I’m in the middle of saving the universe. Mine, mind you. Yours is… probably fine,” Stephen muses, gesturing for Solemn to follow him to the coat closet. He reaches in and pulls out a serviceable piece of boring warmth and tosses it over. “Except for one thing. The woman I love-- the woman you’ll probably love, if you know what’s good for you-- is in a bad way, here. Abandoned. Alone. It won’t stand. You’re in the same emotional space, by the looks of it, but where she has nothing, you have too much, if you catch my drift.”

Impatiently, Stephen finishes undoing the locks and yanks open the door, but as he’d worried, his dour other self hasn’t followed.

When he turns around to see why, Solemn is standing in the doorway in his socks.

“Shoes, you have shoes, do you not?”

“You’re an intergalactic matchmaker??”

Stephen walks over and points to the closet. “SHOES.”

“I--”

“Are you lonely?”

Solemn blinks at him, sleepiness and indignance warring on his face. “Yes.”

“Are you bored?”

A hesitant nod.

“Do you need color in your life? Flowers? Softness? Beauty? Grace?”

“I need sleep.”

Stephen sighs, then nods. “Okay, we’ll do it the easy way, then.” He spins up a portal to the parking lot Hope’s car is parked in, grabs Solemn by the elbow, and drags him through, socks and all.

He only realizes the flaw in his audacious plan when he taps on the slightly-fogged window. Consent. He has no idea whether she’ll be terrified to see two versions of a stranger demand that she uproot everything she owns. What if these two are too different to recognize each other’s souls?

It’s important that he not screw this up, so Stephen turns away to take a deep breath and settle himself. He runs through a bastardized version of one of Wong’s mantras and focuses on his breathing for a while, stepping further away so he’s not standing in a half-frozen puddle.

When he’s ready a few minutes later, Stephen is surprised to see that life has continued on without his interference, in the most unexpected and heartwarming of ways.

Solemn is crouched next to the open door of Hope’s sedan, and he’s got a small flashlight in his hand. Hope is cocooned in a blanket, stockinged feet dangling out of the car, staring at him in wonder. His heart contracts in his chest. She looks so like his Hope, and yet not quite.

“Tip your head back?” Solemn commands in a concerned voice. He straightens, a few seconds later, and looks over at Stephen. “She’s not well.”

“What do you want to do about it?”

“I’m sorry, are-- are you twins?” Hope asks in a weary voice, one hand steadying herself as she stands on the hem of her blanket. Stephen can’t skip ahead, can’t use magic to mend either of them. He’s got to experience each second, each minute of trying to persuade these people they’re good for each other.

It’s excruciating.

“That would be both more and less Strange than the reality,” Stephen finally answers with a forced chuckle. “How long can you leave your car here?”

Her expression grows distant, but somehow more noble, at the same time. “Two days, why?”

Stephen looks at Solemn, who is looking at him like he’s just solved a riddle. “You love her!” The steam from his exclamation puffs out into the cold night air and disappears, just like Stephen’s hopes that his crazy plan will work. There’s no way she’ll trust them now.

“He does look at me like he knows me, somehow,” Hope observes, shuffling over to stand closer to Solemn. “You’re warm,” she whispers, next. “I thought this was a dream, but--”

“So did I! I should be asleep, but instead I’m here living out a real-life Dickens nov-- Hang on,” Solemn says, breaking off and snapping his fingers before pointing at Stephen. “You want me to take her home with me, don’t you! What is this, our do-over?”

“Home,” Hope muses softly, before Stephen can answer.

It’s too much for him, and he looks up at the sky, furious at himself for his inability to hide the agony he’s feeling to see this normal-looking world’s miserable flaws. Escape is right there for the taking, and he almost wishes he had the cowardice to skip to the next universe and pretend this one never happened.

Ten million universes, and no solution to be found, yet. Is it comforting that it took ten million universes to find one where Hope is--

A hand on his arm startles Stephen out of his agonizing reverie.

“What can I do to help?” Hope asks.

That question hurts more than anything he endured at Dormammu’s hands.

“You can trust me,” he blurts out. “Both of you. Go through the portal I’m about to make, and lay down in a warm bed and sleep until you aren’t tired anymore.” Stephen turns to look at Solemn. “Talk to each other. Cook together. Read. If after a week you’re not smiling more, if you don’t feel like your day is brighter, help get her back on her feet and move on.”

The cold air is already freezing the tear tracks on his face, and Stephen wipes them away-- but Solemn surprises him by grabbing his hand and looking at the scars there.

“Who are you?”

“I’m you, after more trauma and triumph.”

“And you know her? From where you’re from?”

“Yes.” Stephen looks over and sees that Hope’s shivering. He pulls his wrist free of Solemn and casts a portal directly to the guest bedroom, watching her face. The bright gold casts a light that makes her frozen, delicate wonder look statuesque, despite her patched blanket. “Go on,” he encourages.

“You’re not coming?” she says, looking longingly at the bed on the other side. Solemn comes over to her and offers his arm, catching his breath when she looks up and nods shyly. The two are so caught up in the newness of each other that they don’t hear his answer.

“I have another world to save.”

#stephen strange #stephen strange x oc #heroic stephen strange #stephen strange fanfiction #stephen strange variants #romance #fluff and angst #finding hope (literally and figuratively)#alternate universes #written and posted with permission <3

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