Namjoon Fan Fic - Tumblr Posts

Waiting For Superman

Genre: Superhero AU, Comic Book AU?, Journalist Namjoon, Journalist OC, best friends to lovers, Action, Angst if you squint, Fluff

Pairing: Namjoon/Reader

Warnings: cursing, violence, injury, hospitalization, bombings, hostage situations, kidnapping, uses chloroform to make someone unconscious, alcohol, physics lol

Synopsis: After your father, one of the top antimatter scientists is killed in his laboratory by villain Outlier, you and your best friend, Namjoon survive the only known antimatter bomb, you both go on to be two of the top journalists in Metropolis. Only, there’s something off about you that most people can’t put their finger on. Namjoon is the only one who notices, not even you know your biggest secret. Hoping to protect you from Outlier, Namjoon also guards a secret of his own.

Note: This is the beginning of a new AU series. This is also in the same universe as my Jin imagine, Heartbreak Weather. This story will continue in the background of future installments.

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"Damn," you said, looking through the article proposals for the week. "I have five proposals to do a story on the two weathermen that got together. Is nothing else interesting happening in Metropolis?" Reaching into your desk, you pulled out your lunch consisting only of a slightly too brown banana. You frowned. "I hate to say it, but it's really too bad that Outlier has been so quiet lately."

Namjoon chuckled. "You'd wish for a little peril in Metropolis if it made a good story." His lips curled upward and he adjusted his slightly too large glasses.

You smiled at your head writer's sarcasm. "Just a little peril. Not too much." Turning around to place the accepted and rejected proposals in their respective boxes, you returned to find a bright yellow banana sitting on your desk. It made you pause, but you shrugged as you peeled it open. "Besides, Antimatter Man always stops whatever his antics are."

"It's not always Antimatter Man."

You hummed in response, already marking up an article in red pen. "Most of the time though."

The conversation lulled, but it didn't feel awkward. You'd worked with Namjoon for nearly three years now, but known him much longer. You were his soundboard and he was your common sense.

"Maybe we do a piece on his recent quietness?"

You looked up. Namjoon already met your eyes. He sat with one leg on top of the other, forming a triangle and his arms crossed over his chest. You'd noticed the way his clothes began to fit tighter, stretching over new muscles. It surprised you. Namjoon never seemed like the athletic type. You were more likely to find him studying physics at the city library for his newest piece on Antimatter Man than in the gym building a physique rivaling a marble statue.

"That seems like a good idea." The pen pressed to your lips you didn't notice the way the ink blotted against your lips. "You wanna take it on?"

"Sure." He pushes one leg off the other and stands up. "I'll try to have it to you by morning."

You nod, trusting him fully to have his piece ready for the morning edition. He moved towards the door and you felt as he paused. Even though you weren't looking at him, you could tell the way he stood, with his hand gripping the door frame, his body half in, half out.

"Don't stay too late, Y/N. He might be quiet now, but you know that won't be forever."

You did know. Maybe more than anybody.

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Outlier first started terrorizing the Greater Metropolis area when you were twelve. It started off typical. A few particularly successful bank robberies netted him more than enough money for a lifetime. If it were you, you would've taken the money and moved far away, lived out the rest of your days peacefully. But, Outlier didn't want just the money. 

When you were fifteen, however, it all changed. 

It was nearly 9 pm. Your father had not returned home from work. It wasn't all around unusual. He often pulled long hours at the lab. But you felt an itch at the back of your spine. Like a spider crawling up each vertebrae like a ladder. 

You called Namjoon. He was the only person you knew with a car, and the only one you knew wouldn't ask too many questions. Twenty minutes later, his headlights showed through the curtains of your bedroom. 

"Hey," he said. His voice greeted you, full of exhaustion and the buoy that had bounced back and forth in the water between you. 

Namjoon was your longest friend. You met in Kindergarten when you'd come across Namjoon in the back corner of the playground. Pushed against the pavement, two second graders tore off his glasses and put them on, mimicking his front teeth that stuck out before he got braces in high school.

You'd chased them off, managing to pick up his glasses off the ground. They were still broken, but you helped Namjoon tape them to get through the rest of the day. Since that day, you'd become almost inseparable. That was until you got a boyfriend.

You, of course, accused Namjoon of being jealous when he didn't immediately take to the idea of you and Vincent. Though, despite the accusation, you knew it was far from the truth. It wasn't hard to see that Vincent was bad for you. He was the reason your grades began to drop, why you knew the familiar burn of whiskey down your throat, and why were spending that night--Valentine's Day--alone.

"You haven't heard anything from him?" Namjoon backed out of your driveway before you even managed to get the seatbelt hooked. 

You shook your head. "He normally calls if he's running late."

It takes another twenty minutes to reach your dad's work. Located just outside the city, you could see Longevity Labs ten minutes before you reach it. Up on a hill, it was agonizing watching the building cycle in and out of view with every turn and switchback.

When you get there, you look up to the fourth floor where your father's lab was. The lights were still on and you felt the coil in your chest unravel a little. Though not completely. 

The elevators in Longevity Labs had been broken for years now and you didn't pay them any mind as you walked to the staircase and climbed the four floors. Namjoon stayed close behind, though you didn't speak. It wasn't the first time the two of you had come to the labs together when you'd become worried. After losing your mom when you were young, a burr of worry attached itself to your heart and poked you when your father wasn't home by eight.

The metal of the doorknob felt warm. There were plenty of reasons for that, you rationalized. Your father was one of the top scientists in Metropolis, he worked with all sorts of dangerous things that could need a warm environment, or cause one.

You pushed the door open and met your father's eyes. They were wide open and empty. A silent scream falling from his wide open mouth. Your vision blurred and the thing you remember next is feeling Namjoon's hand on your shoulder as his voice elevated. It was only then you noticed that you weren't alone.

"What are you doing here?" Namjoon asked, his voice like the bark of a guard dog. It surprised you. For a boy of barely sixteen at the time, it felt like he suddenly was a man standing beside you. You were still just a tiny girl.

The man wore a mask. Of course he wore a mask. It was white with two diamond shapes for the eyes, only revealing a small bit of his pupil. The man didn't speak when he opened his hand, a metallic orb drifting upwards. He didn't throw it, but the orb moved quickly, like it was falling.

It was only later you learned that it was rigged to move upward like that. Real antimatter would act just like regular matter, nearly indecipherable. This--while true antimatter--was meant to hold your attention long enough. 

The explosion pushed you towards the ceiling. You woke up to a firefighter reaching for your hand. It was only when you took it and tried to place your feet on the ground that you noticed that you and Namjoon ended up pushed through the wall and into the vent system near the ceiling. He wasn't fully awake, yet his arms still reached for you after you were peeled away from his body.

The two of you were the only known survivors of an antimatter bomb. Well, it was more like a grenade. Your father's lab, body, and work was largely destroyed in the explosion, but for some reason, you and Namjoon survived. It's wide believed that there was something wrong with the bomb. That it didn't attack your living cells. 

You and Namjoon did not come out unscathed. Somehow, you got off fairly easy with a broken collarbone, a concussion, and a few deep cuts around your body. Namjoon, on the other hand, never fully awoke for a week. He'd broken three ribs, one of his lungs collapsed, his head injury much worse than yours, permanent damage to his spine. When he woke a week later, you wanted to envelope him in a hug and never let go. 

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Namjoon found you curled up in the newspaper archives at midnight. He was the only one who knew your Valentine's Day ritual. He moved the papers from your lap and took the glass of wine from your hand before it spilled. Just like every year, the paper was open to your dad's obituary and the news coverage of the explosion.

The edges of the paper were brown and crisped as if they were sixty years old instead of ten. His brow furrowed as he touched them. Between his fingers, the brown edges lightened as he brought them towards the light. 

Ever since that night, your mission was to expose Outlier. You knew he wasn't some superhuman. Your dad worked with antimatter to harness its capabilities for good. For medical applications and using its destruction for renewable energy. Outlier wanted to use antimatter in the way everyone feared. To destroy. 

As he moved the paper with your father's smiling face, he saw another, a jolt running down his spine. The headline took up almost half the page, "New Hero Emerges In Fight Against Outlier."

Outlier's antics became more calculated. Everyone knew he had the capability to use antimatter, but his subsequent movements involved raids of laboratories outside the city and taking a graduate student hostage. No one else died.

It was during the hostage situation that Antimatter first saved the day. It was around a year after your attack and Antimatter Man successfully infiltrated the laboratory and got the hostage to safety before the entire lab exploded. It was only in his next act of heroism that the city realized he was more than just someone who risked his life to save someone. He had powers.

Next time, Antimatter Man disabled a device strapped around a victim's neck with just a touch. It was determined to be a miniature explosive that would've destroyed the man had it gone off. The hero could manipulate antimatter. Destroy it--and was later determined--create it. 

When Antimatter Man caused an explosion in an alleyway, he was lucky that only one bystander died. Like all the previous times he disabled one of Outlier's antimatter devices, he placed his hand on top of it. Instead of feeling the molecules burst like boba, he felt an energy build until it exploded.

Outlier purposely placed a more standard bomb that would explode in the presence of antimatter. It was a test. One Antimatter Man hadn't anticipated. In fact, it was rumored the hero had no idea the full scale of his abilities until that moment. The only reason he came out unscathed is because he was able to clock himself in antimatter to prevent the explosion from destroying him.

Namjoon knew that Outlier knew who Antimatter Man was. While the general public may not know that Antimatter Man was a victim of Outlier, or that he used chunky glasses and the Metropolis Daily to control the public's view of Kim Namjoon and Antimatter Man. Outlier was the only one who knew, not even you.

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The authorities always told you that Outlier may come back. Your father was the most prominent scientist working with antimatter technology and there were likely things Outlier had not figured out yet. He may come for your father's notes. Yet, he never did. 

You weren't too worried about it anymore. It wasn't as if Outlier had a personal vendetta against you or your father. You hadn't seen his face. You'd practically passed out when you saw him, and probably would've had he not dropped the grenade when you locked eyes.

Still, you always watched your back when you walked from the Metropolis Daily office to your apartment. It was only a few blocks, but normally traversed after dark. Sometimes Namjoon came with you, though most of the time you persuaded him to just go back to his own place. Especially this night, you did not want Namjoon to know you didn't plan on going home.

Normally, when you hid your plans from Namjoon, it was because you were heading somewhere dangerous for research. Like the time you drove out into the forest on your own in search of Outlier's supposed hide out, or the time you decided to follow a man suspected to be Antimatter Man. Even as an editor, you still wrote, tending to keep the most hard hitting stories for yourself. Besides, few of your journalists were willing to possibly get close to Outlier. You'd survived once, you felt you could again.

However, this night, you were headed to the club. There was no reason or ulterior motive. You simply wanted to let loose. You knew Namjoon wouldn't like it. He wasn't smothering, he let you make your own decisions and do what you want, but his disapproving and worried looks always cut you deep.

You knew it all came from a place of concern. He always told you how thankful he was that he was with you that night. But, you always fit a pit of guilt in your stomach. Namjoon nearly died because of you. There was no way you were going to let that happen again. 

You'd changed into something sexier before leaving the office, leaving your office clothes in your desk drawer. You always kept an extra set there any way in case you needed to pull an all nighter at the office. It was rare you got to go out and enjoy yourself on a Friday night and you already felt the contentment rising in you as you approached the club and heard the rhythmic thud of bass.

This particular club wasn't one with a line of people which was why you chose it. There was no wait. You could get in and out easily and without fuss. When you didn't get to do things like this often, you wanted to truly get to do them. 

It wasn't long until you lost yourself. In the crowd. In the music. In your thoughts. Or rather, lack thereof. This is why people liked clubbing and loud music. It drowned out your worries. Everything became a constant hum in the back of your skull, where, for once, you could ignore it.

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Namjoon had suspicions. It started when no fruit stayed ripe around you. The way that the microwave always sparked when you tried to make popcorn. And no matter what you did, it always ended up just a little too burnt. Nothing you did was ever quite right, but never quite wrong. 

He always found his way to you whether he wanted to or not. It was as if the particles in his body were attracted to yours. Recognized them like their reflection. You got into a car accident two years ago and Namjoon had left work early that day, having felt an aching in his lower stomach. Fearing appendicitis, his supervisor sent him home. 

He'd walked a block when he came upon it. You were sitting on the sidewalk, your hands pulling at the roots of your hair and your feet pointed towards each other. Something caused you to look up then. Namjoon wondered if you had the same uncanny sense he did, if you could put together when the other was in peril. When you saw him, your arms came around him and your shaking body burrowed into his for warmth.

When he was eighteen and you were seventeen, the two of you briefly shared an apartment. Namjoon had started taking classes at the university and you were in your senior year. While your dad had left everything to you--you were all he had--you sold the house a year after your dad died, unable to live there alone. 

You'd come home one night after a basketball game. Namjoon always encouraged you to go, wanting you to feel like a normal high schooler. Though, while he was well intentioned, the efforts were ultimately fraught. You'd left at halftime because you think the concession stand hot dog made you sick. 

Yet, when you came home. You found Joon spread out on the couch, bottles of alcohol spread around him like the crime scene markers around your dad's body. He'll never forget the light touches on his shoulder, then forehead, then bicep. The way it reminded him of feeling just a little too warm on a winter's night, pleasantly so.

His feet brought him to the entrance of the club and his heart sped up. You never came to places like this, but Namjoon knew you had the secret desire to. You'd always loved to dance even though you weren't particularly skilled at it. He walked inside, loitering at the edges of the dancefloor. 

Namjoon had to keep himself from sneering at the sweaty bodies and couples dry humping each other. He never really understood the appeal of clubs. His eyes flit across the crowd, spotting your hair first. Even though you'd worked all day, you looked beautiful still. Your hair a little frizzier than usual and he recognized the tiredness in the way your moved your body to the bet. It wasn't lazy exactly, but it didn't have the same gusto as some of the others around you. 

He wondered if his feeling had been off. Maybe he was just too on edge lately because Outlier had gone so silent. There was a parasite in the back of his mind that fed him anxieties. Was he planning something big? Had he finally figured out to build the bomb he wanted to? Was he committing lower level crimes Namjoon wasn't privy to? Did he know about you? 

Watching you dance, he shook his head. You weren't in any danger. It was just in his head this time. Turning with his hands in his pockets, he took two steps towards the door of the club when he looked back and caught a glimpse of your smile. It was rare these days and not something he wanted to ruin with his worries.

With a small smile of his own, Namjoon left.

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You ended the night at around two a.m. You'd had two drinks, not enough to make you stumble out on the sidewalk, but enough to make you feel like you were. Taking off your heels, you gripped them in your fingers as you walked back towards your place. The walk should take fifteen minutes, but in your current state, you found yourself sauntering along as if the streets of Metropolis were perfectly safe in the wee hours of the morning.

If it were not for the alcohol in your system, maybe you would've sensed the presence behind you. Maybe you would've seen the dark shadow lingering behind you for the last two blocks. It wasn't until a hand clamped over your mouth, the other clamped around your jaw to prevent you from biting down on your abductor's fingers.

It was then you tasted it on your tongue. The rough, bleached taste of fabric. Something mildly sweet. Like laughing gas at the dentist.

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Namjoon prided himself on his intuition. When you called him the night your father died, he almost ignored it. Nearly blinded by his teenage jealousy, it was a small pain in his stomach that made him answer his phone and rush to you that night. 

He had the same pain now. Just below his ribs this time, he rubbed his fingers along the cotton of his button down as he glanced at your dark, empty office. You hadn't come in for work this morning. No one heard from you last night or this morning. And, despite this being unlike you, no one else seemed concerned. 

You'd gained a reputation for your independence and ability to take care of yourself. You hardly ever asked for help--and while your own mind tended to think that an admirable trait--it only made Namjoon's mind race more. However, this made everyone else go about their day. 

A half hour later Namjoon stood in his boss' office. "I'm not feeling well. Would it be all right if I took the rest of the day off?"

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When you came to, you immediately noticed the lack of rough rope around your wrists or ankles. When you opened your eyes, however, you noticed the white cuffs floating half an inch from your skin. One cuff circled each wrist and another two around each ankle. You knew enough about how Outlier operated to know about these.

First seen in his second major hostage situation following your father's death, these cuffs did not touch the skin. But, if the hostage moves or tries to escape and their skin brushes the edge of the cuff, the invisible antimatter will attack the matter rich skin, flesh, and bone.

The first hostage to have worn these cuffs lost a hand before she understood how they worked. Now, Outlier gained easy compliance with even just the threat of his antimatter cuffs.

"Ah, so you've heard of them?"

Outlier sat across the room. HIs diamond slit mask shrouded in the shadows of the dimly lit room. It made your heartbeat easier knowing he still wore the mask. It meant he didn't plan on killing you. At least, not yet.

"You know--" Outlier paused, a soft lilt in his voice that annoyed you. Normally, the sort of singsong quality he had would make you flutter your lashes at him across the bar. Outlier's voice though, sounded like a children's song slowed down and played backward. "The technology for those cuffs I developed from some of your dad's research."

He stood up, moving closer. "The ability to suspend antimatter around a given object using the only gas in our world that antimatter cannot destroy. Quite brilliant, really."

As a teenager, you really did not know much about your father's research beyond its main goal: make the world better using the one thing that could destroy it. Your father had seen success in his lifetime. The use of antimatter in some medical technology aided the treatment of cancer and detecting major illnesses. It had saved lives. 

You'd looked over a bit of your father's surviving research, of course. The things you had mainly consisted of experiment notes, a few crude sketches, and one report about a failed experiment. Nothing of value, really. It's why you always brushed off Namjoon's worries that Outlier would come back for it. What did you have that he would want?

"I imagine you know why you're here." Outlier was now only a few feet away and he leaned leisurely against the wall as if he were an old friend visiting your new apartment.

"No, I--"

"But, my assistant has something they want from you first."

Your head turned to the darkness in front of you from where Outlier had originally come. You made out the figure of another man. Smaller in stature, he shuffled slowly into the dim light. He didn't wear a mask, his hair falling into his eyes. 

"My report," he said, his voice hesitant, almost scared. If you didn't know any better you'd believe he was the one being held hostage by Outlier. "Do you have it?"

"Your report?" Your brow furrowed as you thought about the one report you had. It detailed only the attempt to create an anti-oxygen particle. "I-I don't think so." 

The air in the room became stuffy. Outlier seemed not to believe you, his arms crossed. You had no idea who Outlier's assistant was, but you were certain that whatever experiment he was a part of, your father would never have done something to make this man resent him. You almost wished you had the report.

"My assistant, you see," Outlier began in his singsong voice. "Suffers from a particular ailment brought on by one of your father's experiments. It tends to leave people, breathless. Isn't that right, Yoongi?"

The other man--Yoongi--glared at his supervillain boss. Something turned in your stomach. Yoongi didn't appear to be overly loyal to Outlier. Maybe he would be your key to getting out of this. 

"Well, that was merely a favor. His report was never recovered and I thought there was a chance you may have it. But, now onto the real reason I've brought you here."Outlier crouched down, coming face to face with you. "Now, for an experiment of my own."

From his jacket pocket, he pulled out a short rod. Holding it above your bindings, the cuff fell limp and motionless against your wrist. You nearly flinched, worried it would begin cutting through the skin. But, it didn't.

Despite his mask, Outlier's form seemed to perk up at that. As if he had the first evidence that his hypothesis was true. With his thick, black gloves, that you were assumed were made of antimatterium--an element created by your father to make the handling of antimatter safer--Outlier slipped the ring off your wrist.

Reaching pack into his pocket, he pulled out a new ring and placed it around your wrist. It looked identical to the last, white, vaguely metallic with a visible field of matter--or possibly antimatter--surrounding it. Stretching it over your hand, he slipped it around your wrist. 

"It should only take a few minutes." 

Outlier stood back up.

"What's the point of this?" you asked, becoming more frustrated that nothing was happening. You knew you should be thankful you are still alive. It would be easy enough to kill you and rummage through your apartment for whatever he wants. Yet, for some reason, he refrained.

"I imagine you can figure that out on your own." Outlier watched the ring around your wrist carefully. "My biggest foe can only have a mind that rivals my own."

Biggest foe? Your mind turned over the possible meanings of his words until it clicked. "You think I'm Antimatter Man?"

Outlier didn't flinch. "Of course."

You laughed. You couldn't help yourself. While you'd never come to face to face with Antimatter Man himself, it was obvious that the superhero was easily many inches taller than you and his shoulders were easily the entire length of one of your arms.

"Me? Of all people?"

"It would make some sense, wouldn't it? Very few people survive the blast from an antimatter bomb. And those that do often acquire certain--capabilities."

You shook your head. "But, I'm not the only one who survived, Nam--"

You were interrupted by the sound of Outlier's surprise as well as the sound of banging from outside the room. Yoongi--who hadn't been paying attention--suddenly popped his head up and glanced towards the door to your left. With so many things happening at once, you chose to only focus on where Outlier's eyes went.

The ring around your wrist had begun to crumble like cheese. Bits falling off as they became too heavy or lost their support. Squinting your eyes you wondered how this was possible. You didn't get a chance to hop on your train of thought before the door burst open.

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Antimatter Man burst into the room. He never wore a specific costume like superheroes were often penchant to do. Normally, he just wore an all black ensemble and a mask, obscuring most of his face. A hat usually then kept his hair hidden, beyond the tiny wisps of light brown you saw peeking out from underneath.

"Let her go," he said, his voice matter of fact and deep and familiar. 

Outlier--to his credit--did seem genuinely surprised. Though, he bounced back quickly, ordering Yoongi to shut the door. The other man did so slowly and pathetically, letting it scrape against the splintered hardwood floor.

"Hmm, well, it would seem your presence here would confirm that my original hypothesis was wrong." A pause and he points down at you. "But I may have a new one."

For some reason, it took you this long to put together that you were destroyed the ring imprisoning your left wrist. Why hadn't the first one crumbled into nothingness like this?

"That ring is made of matter. Like most things in our universe. However, it is designed to crumble when it detects antimatter energy. She produces antimatter energy. Probably in small amounts which is why she and the world haven't destroyed each other yet." He looks back at Antimatter Man who's dark eyes are flitting between you and the villain. "Much like you, my nemesis. You destroy all antimatter you come into contact with through the latent production of pure matter. You really should correct the press on the name, you know?"

Your mind swirled. You created latent antimatter? Did this explain why everything in your life with a timespan seemed to die or wilt quicker than usual? Why people found you just slightly off?

"She has the potential to be my greatest weapon. If I can harness the antimatter inside of her. Determine whatever is producing it, I would no longer need to spend weeks producing such tiny amounts." You were certain that if his mask was off, his face would be lit up like a child's. His hand reached for yours and he pulled you up off the ground. The cuffs shifted with you since both you and the antimatter cuffs were under his control. Would they even work on you though?

Outlier held your back against his chest. It surprised you how much he felt like a normal man. Of course, that's all he was in the grand scheme of it all. Outlier was nothing more than a man desperate for something.

"No!" Antimatter Man sounded almost desperate. "Don't hurt her! She's been through enough. She didn't ask for it. She didn't even know about it. Please just let her go. I'll--" You can also hear the thoughts turning in his mind. "You can have me instead."

Your eyes went wide. Antimatter Man seldom placed himself directly into Outlier's hands. He was known for foiling the villain's plans remotely, sometimes even not showing up to the scene. And, even when they did come face to face, it was usually brief. What made this so different? What made you different?

Also, why did he talk like he knew you? Sure, your story had been in the papers a long time ago? You occasionally met a stranger who would recognize your name, but it was becoming less and less common with every passing year. How did Antimatter Man know you?

Outlier's grip on you tightened. One of his hands reached down for your wrist and held it up. Taking hold of the cuff, he brought it within millimeters of your skin. 

"Now, let's be civilized about this. If you were truly worried about this girl because of her past, you wouldn't have let me take her in the first place."

Antimatter Man gulped. His body was stiff and his hands opened and closed. It reminded you of how Namjoon kept a stress ball in his desk drawer for whenever he had a stressful day. He'd squeeze and release it a few times in time with his breaths, getting out of his head. 

"Yoongi," Antimatter Man said, his breath tickling the shell of your ear. "Open the back door for me would you?"

Yoongi didn't move. His gaze was hard, but not in a way that felt piercing or like he was looking through you. He was thinking.

"Yoongi," the villain said again. 

Yoongi didn't move.

Antimatter Man took the opportunity and lunged. It was a risk. The cuffs still encircled one wrist and both your ankles. As you fell backward, it felt as if the world moved in slow motion, you watched your wrist fling back, hitting the ring of the cuff and bounce back, completely unharmed.

You land on Outlier's chest, but his grip on you loosened. You got up but immediately felt your legs give out. Someone caught you and you looked up to see Yoongi looking down at you. He didn't speak, or really show any expression beyond motioning to the back of the room where there was a door concealed within the wall. Likely, this was the back door Outlier wanted him to open earlier.

Even though Yoongi was working with Outlier, you felt like you were free. Something told you he was helping you. The man obviously did not swear much loyalty to the villain. You reached and pulled the cuffs off, causing Yoongi's eyes to widen and you felt his arms waver as you tossed them in Outlier's direction, hoping one would at least chink his antimatter protective armor.

Someone winced. And you recognized it. It was the same pain you heard that night when the bomb went off and you felt Namjoon's body wrap around yours. When he woke up in the hospital and you couldn't help but hug him, forgetting he had multiple broken ribs. Even in his pain, he didn't stop you.

"Oh my God." 

You wrestled out of Yoongi's grasp. Outlier--seemingly not really wanting to fight--ran as soon as Antimatter Man fell to the ground. The cuff had sliced through his clothes and a gash opened on his leg. You crouched next to him and reached for the gash, applying as much pressure as possible 

"It's not as bad as it looks. It'll heal by tomorrow."

You looked up at him and met his eyes. It was him. It had to be. You reached up for the edge of the mask. He didn't stop you, his dark eyes watching your hand as you reached up and revealed his identity. 

Namjoon.

Sutures - Interlude: Birdwatching

Genre: Soulmates AU, Idiots to Lovers, slight Enemies to Lovers

Pairing: Namjoon/Named Reader

Warnings (chapter-specific): references my series Sutures beware of spoilers, drunkeness, being creeped on (subtly and briefly),

Synopsis: “A person often meets his destiny on the road he took to avoid it.” –Jean de la Fontaine

There was only one thing you and Min Yoongi had in common that night. You were both brokenhearted. You only intended to be together for one night, but when you both end up in the hospital the next day you discover that you are soulmates. It could kill you to be apart. As you and Yoongi attempt to sever the bond between you, will another be formed?

Note: I’m sorry that this final installment of Sutures took so long. However, I did originally write it months after I finished the original story. This isn't necessary to read for the story, but does provide a different perspective and some cuteness.

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Year One

Eunji's phone vibrated on the desk beside her. The contact name "Goose" lit up the screen and she immediately answered the call. 

"Hey," she said. "What's going on?" 

"Hello Dove," he said, making her stomach flop. Despite the codenames being her idea to protect Namjoon's identity when they talked in public, and in case you or Yoongi were nearby, it still caused her to feel like she missed lunch. "Are you busy right now?"

"Uh, not really," she said. "Just working on some school work." Soon after you had left for the States, Eunji had decided to go back to college and finish her degree. It helped her stay busy. She was paid to keep tabs on you, make sure that your health was not compromised, and that you and Yoongi stayed on different continents for the time being. BigHit cared that Yoongi's health was good, which meant yours had to be as well. There was no telling if you and Yoongi could still affect each other nearly 6,000 miles apart.

"Do you want to meet up? We're going to be going to Los Angeles soon and we should work out a plan." 

"Okay, the normal place in about an hour?"

"Sounds good."

---

Eunji and Namjoon liked to meet outside the city in Ilsan. He'd sworn that he knew a great cafe near the lake park, and Eunji had come to like their lattes. She got to the cafe before Namjoon and began sipping her latte as she watched the rain run down the window. 

She caught sight of Namjoon halfway down the block. He wore a mask, black hat, and black peacoat, but she could still make out his tall, lanky form. It looked like he already carried one coffee cup in his hand and she let out a small chuckle at his dependence on caffeine. 

He entered the shop. Spotting her right away, he sat down across from her and promptly ordered an Americano. On the table, Namjoon set a book, notebook, and his mask. 

"Latte?" he asked, smiling as she took another sip. 

Eunji nodded, setting the mug down and awkwardly looking at the man in front of her. She knew he was an idol, of course, but she'd come to know him so well in the past months that it was odd when she stumbled upon a billboard with his face. She could never get used to the stares and whispers that inevitably surrounded them whenever they met up, although it seemed reduced here, Namjoon's hometown. 

"You can keep the mask on if you want," she said. "You know, so you don't get recognized here with me." 

Namjoon shook his head. "The mask would only make them more suspicious." The barista brought his Americano. He took a sip. "So, how is Sumi doing?"  

"Okay," Eunji said, her eyes wandering around the cafe. "She's still pretty torn up about her grandma and she hasn't been working too much lately." 

Namjoon nodded. "Yoongi has been distant. Throwing himself into his studio for days at a time. Sure, he's been productive, but I can tell something is off with him." He paused. "Do you think there's still some sort of connection there?" 

"Maybe," Eunji said. "Should we ask the doctors about it? See if influencing each other's mood could be bad for their health?"

"I think it's okay. We just need to make sure they're moods never get dangerously low." Namjoon pulled his gaze away from Eunji. "His songs have been different too. He always wrote sad songs, but there's a longing in these. He keeps mentioning yarn and knitting. I don't think he even realizes." 

"It's sad," Eunji said. "That they obviously are still soulmates, still so connected, and they can't live happily with each other." She looked across the table at the man who had written so many love songs and knew he would understand. 

"The doctors said there's hope one day. Once they have both achieved what they need to before finding love. When they're ready, they can find each other again." 

Eunji sighed. "I always dreamed that finding your soulmate was the best thing in the world. You'd have someone who you could understand inherently, someone who would never leave your side, who would always love you." She brushed one of her hands through her hair. "I never imagined it could be this messy." 

"I think people can have soulmates outside of the medical definition," he said. "Like, you can find all that without the biological connection that Yoongi and Sumi have."

"Maybe, I just wish one day I'll find my soulmate and it won't be like this."

"That's the thing. You're destined to be together, but if you meet at the wrong time, in the wrong way. Everything gets messed up." Namjoon smiled, it was small and barely there, but Eunji could see the hope behind his expression. "I think they'll find each other again one day. And, you'll find someone too. Maybe not like Sumi did, but someone who will make you feel the same way."

"All right," she said. "Enough about my lonely life. Let's make a plan for when you go to Los Angeles."

 Year Two

"Did you hear about that celebrity who found his soulmate?" you asked your best friend, munching on some potato chips as you went over one of your student's assignments.

"What?" Eunji asked, her voice sounding a bit panicked. "Who?"

"Oh, it was just some actor," you said. "Apparently, he's taking some time off now so that they can get used to the arrangement. Can you imagine that? Your soulmate is some sort of celebrity and you have to work around their fans and fame. I would hate that." 

"I mean, if it's the right person, wouldn't it be worth it?" Eunji asked, chewing on her bottom lip. "They would be your soulmate. The perfect person for you."

You shrugged. "I don't know. It's rare anyway. I don't think either of us will have to worry about that." 

Eunji's jaw stiffened and her body tensed. "I don't know," she said. "I think it's more common than you think."

The crunch of more chips cut of Eunji. "Maybe," you said. "Oh, by the way, did I tell you I'm seeing a guy over here? It's nothing serious yet, but I really like him." 

Eunji's anger melted into concern. Dating hadn't been part of the plan. Last she knew, you still remembered everything that happened with Minki and had sworn off dating. "How'd you meet him?" 

"He came into my parent's restaurant," you said, laughing. "Apparently he was a regular. It was weird. Mom didn't seem too keen to set me up with him."

"Yeah, that is weird."

When the call ended, Eunji texted Namjoon to tell him that you two needed to schedule a meetup. But, her muscles were still tense. How could you be so dismissive? Eunji remembered the way you'd been scared when you found out Yoongi was your soulmate, but she also remembered the way your eyes softened. 

She knew you didn't remember Yoongi or your romance. That made it all the more tragic. That the you of now didn't believe it was possible to care for someone so deeply you would sacrifice everything about yourself.

Namjoon had just gotten back to Korea from abroad, so Eunji didn't expect him to respond to her for a while. So, she did what she always did when she felt lonely and depressed. Eunji went clubbing.

Eunji knew it was a bad idea to come out by herself. The club was crowded and she barely had room to dance by herself. She ordered drink after drink. This was how you met Yoongi. Dancing in a bar while getting just drunk enough to lose your inhibition. 

Eunji thought that if she drank enough if she danced enough, she too would fall into the lap of her soulmate.

---

Namjoon woke to his phone vibrating. He saw Eunji's name on the screen, stress building in his chest. He'd seen the text earlier and brushed it off, intending to respond to it tomorrow, but now, he worried something was really wrong.

"Dove? Why are you calling me at two am?" You didn't respond and Namjoon only heard hitched breathing on the other line. "Eunji?"

"Goose," she said, her voice slurring. "Why can't I find my soulmate? I've done everything Sumi has and it hasn't happened." Eunji paused and he heard thumping music in the background. "Am I just destined to be alone forever?"

"Where are you, Dove?"

"A club in Yong-san." 

Namjoon swore under his breath and got out of bed.

--- 

"Stop drinking," Namjoon said, climbing out of a taxi and onto an Itaewon street, a neighborhood in Yong-san. He knew it had to be here you'd found yourself. It was where all the tourists who liked clubbing ended up. "Then, you could help me find you." 

"I'm outside." She said it as if Namjoon should know exactly where that was. He could hear the people around her and he walked a little faster. 

"Is there anything nearby that you can see?" he asked, pulling up his mask and pulling down his beanie so that it covered his blond hair. 

"Uh, there's a 7-Eleven across the street." 

Namjoon let out a breath of relief as she actually answered his question logically. "All right, Dove. Just sit down on the curb and I'll be there soon." 

There were many 7-Eleven's in the area, but according to his maps, only one was directly across from a nightclub. Namjoon turned the corner, immediately stumbling onto the convenience store. Looking across the street, he saw her sitting on the curb and extremely interested in something on the blacktop.

"Dove!" he said, running across the street and crouching down beside her. He placed his hand on her bare shoulder, finding it cold from the chilly night. "What are you doing?"

"The ants," she said. "Nobody cares about them." 

Namjoon noticed a line of ants that were crawling towards a crack in the pavement. She wore a strapless body con dress and for once, Namjoon wasn't the one drawing attention.

He took off his jacket and threw it over her shoulders. It covered the entire length of the dress. "Come on, Dove. Get up. It's time to go home." Namjoon took her hand and hoisted her up. 

She finally looked up at him as if she'd just noticed his presence. "Are you my soulmate?"

Namjoon was getting annoyed. "Why did you come out by yourself?" he asked. "You need to be more careful. There's too many strange guys around to get drunk on your own." He eyed a few that seemed particularly interested in the drunk girl.

"Are you worried about me, soulmate?" She wore a dreamy smile and grabbed onto the sides of his T-shirt to stabilize herself.

Namjoon sighed and placed his arms around her shoulders as he waved his free up to hail a taxi. He climbed in first and reached to help her in, but she tried to stumble in herself. Tripping over her platform heels, she landed right in his lap. 

The taxi driver looked back at them expectantly and Namjoon helped Eunji sit up and reached across her body to hook her seatbelt. 

"What's your address, Dove?" 

Luckily, she was able to tell the driver your address. It was in one of the outer neighborhoods of the city and Namjoon wondered if she'd even planned on going home that night. He noticed the way her eyelids drooped and how she pulled the jacket closer around her.

"Tired?" He lifted his arm and allowed her to rest against his chest. His heart rate elevated and he resisted the urge to leaned down fix her smeared lipstick.

"I'm so happy I found you," she said, wrapping her arms around his waist. "I can finally have my happy ending."

---

Eunji fell asleep before they reached her apartment. As the taxi came to a stop and parked outside her complex, he leaned down and gripped her shoulder rubbing one of his fingertips against the fabric of his jacket.

"Dove, we're here," he said. It was nearly four now. He opened the door of the taxi and gently helped her out. Eunji was barely awake, so he kept his arm firmly around her shoulder to keep her stable. He took her keys and got into the building, looking around for an elevator. 

"Only stairs," she said, pointing to the stairwell.

Namjoon sighed and headed towards the stairs. "What floor?"

"Six."

"Of course."

Halfway through, Eunji began to help him, taking some of the weight off his shoulders. Still, when they reached the sixth floor, he felt his arms and shoulders burning, catching his breath.  She started walking on her own, stumbling towards her door and attempting to put the keys in the lock, not realizing that Namjoon still held them.

He followed her and unlocked her apartment, following her inside. "Are you all right now, Dove?" 

Eunji turned to look at him. It was obvious that some of her drunkenness had begun to wear off, but her eyes were still glassy and she couldn't walk entirely straight. "You can't leave me," she said. "We're soulmates and we'll die."

Namjoon let out a frustrated breath. "All right," he said. "Go change and go to sleep." He watched she disappeared into her bedroom. 

After a few minutes, he knocked on her door and peeked in to see her changed and underneath the covers. "I'll be on to couch if you get sick." He moved to close the door but she interrupted his movements. 

"No, stay with me," she said. "I don't mind." 

Namjoon gave in, just wanting to shut his eyes. He flopped down on the other side of her bed, feeling as she curled against his side. 

---

Namjoon woke to another phone call. He noticed Eunji still sleeping next to him, her makeup smeared and he couldn't help but smile as he brought the phone to his ear. 

"Yeah?"

"Where are you?" Yoongi asked. "We're supposed to go over the new songs." 

Namjoon glanced down as she shifted beside him and met her eyes as she opened them. "I got caught up helping a friend last night," he said. "Sorry, I'll be on my way in twenty minutes." 

Year Three

"How long until she comes back?" Namjoon asked, plucking a cookie off the plate in the center of the table. The two had become well-known regulars to the cafe, coming at least every few months, although now it was nearly every week. They usually gave them a plate of cookies to share. Each visit was a different flavor and Namjoon seemed to particularly like the matcha flavored ones.

"Two weeks," Eunji said. "She's moving in with me until she finds her own place." 

Namjoon paused with another cookie halfway to his mouth. "Does that mean we can't meet up anymore?"

Eunji found herself smiling, her stomach filling with butterflies. She, too, looking forward to their Sunday meetings. Sometimes they lost track of discussing you and Yoongi and talked for hours about other things. BTS, the songs Namjoon was writing, funny stories, how much you enjoyed the snickerdoodles from the same cafe.

"No, we'll just have to be more careful." Eunji looked down and picked up one of the last cookies for herself. "Although, do you think they're almost ready to meet again?"

"I don't think that's up to us," Namjoon said. "I think we'll have to let fate decide."

Eunji laughed. "Yeah, cause it did such a good job last time." 

"I don't know. It kinda brought us together, didn't it?" He took the last cookie in his mouth.

Eunji smiled, hoping Namjoon didn't notice the way her ears reddened. "Yeah, yeah, it did." Ever since that night Namjoon helped her home over a year ago, she always felt excitement and nerves before their meetings. She checked her makeup and flattened down her hair. She would spend twenty minutes getting dress. Eunji even caught herself googling his ideal type before closing the window and cursing herself for being such an idiot.

"I think we just monitor it for now," he said. "We don't want to breathe down their necks or insist we go with them everywhere or they'll be suspicious."

Eunji nodded as she took a bite of her cookie and stared down at the table. It was a few seconds before she looked back up at Namjoon. "I really want them to find each other again, Goose. It just doesn't seem fair. I wish we could lock them in a room together and make them." 

Namjoon reached across the table and laid his over hers. His eyes were soft. "Me too."

"You know, my soulmate just doesn't seem as important now," she said. "I don't know if I have one. But, I know Sumi does and I want her to be happy."

Eunji thought about three and half years ago when she first saw Namjoon in the hospital when you and Yoongi found out you were soulmates. He hadn't seemed real, a face and body she'd only seen on TV or through a screen. She had a hard time hiding her jealousy. Her best friend who never went out, ignored other guys for her deadbeat ex-boyfriend, and had her first and only one night stand found her soulmate so effortlessly.

She remembered seeing Namjoon that day too. He looked pretty much the same as the man sitting across from her, except for the little bit of facial hair that he no longer bothered to shave and how he rarely wore a mask when he met with her anymore.

Namjoon watched her from across the table. His eyes focused on her lips as she spoke and he noticed the way she seemed so wrapped up in her own thoughts. 

He'd misjudged her all those years ago. Eunji liked to party and drink too much. She kissed a different boy every week, not caring too much for seeing them the next day. But, he slowly saw the reasons. The want for love, for attention. That she could get instantly if she wore the right dress at the club. Her and Sumi seemed so different, but as he got to know her more, he saw that the attention only came from giving all of hers to others. Most of which didn't deserve it.

"Dove," he said, cutting through the comfortable silence. "What do you say to meeting up again?"

Eunji made eye contact with him, her brow furrowing. "What do you mean?

"I mean, like where we can meet up and we don't talk about the lovebirds."

"You mean, like a date?"

"That's exactly what I mean, Dove."