#especially since apparently tumblr doesnt WANT PEOPLE SEEING ICONS NOW

[lazarish]

You're Dead To Me

I'm not somebody you know

[quietseraphim]

Dream a Little Dream of Me

My first BTS fic ever! Cross-posted on AO3

(I promise there’s a read-more link, sorry if it doesnt show up on mobile)

Pairing: Kim Namjoon X Reader

Genre: Drama, Angst, Fluff

Tags: Idol!RM Student Teacher!Reader. Soulmate AU, meeting in dreams. There’s a decent amount of cursing in this, just a heads up.

Summary:  There are old wives tales about dreams and what they can mean. There are also stories of dreams that you can share with your soulmate, dreams where even if you're not together, you can still comfort each other when you need it most.

What happens if your soulmate is not only on the other side of the planet? But they're also international icons?

Chapter: 1  2

Ao3 Link

Please be sure to like it here on Tumblr or give me some Kudos on Ao3! 

Also: my inbox is always open, any and all constructive criticism is welcome as well as questions/regular comments on the fic! Enjoy!

There were a lot of old wives tales about dreams, from the idea that a dream about your teeth falling out meant an unexpected rainfall of money, to the idea that dreams are visions of your past life. But there are also tales of dreams that feel so real that when you wake up, you feel empty inside. Dreams that felt so real that you could feel the warmth of the other person’s body long after they were gone. People would say all kinds of things, from writing them off as sex dreams or even going so far as to say it was a ghost. And in a way it was true, but according to others, these particular dreams were a snap of connection between soulmates. That they would connect when they needed each other the most. But like everything, this could be flawed; even if by some miracle that a pair would be alive at the same time, a pair of soulmates could be on opposite sides of the world where their sleeping patterns would never cross, each having to live out this life without their other half. In cases like these, they’d have to wait to meet in a different timeline where fate and the universe would be kinder. Fluff pieces would be written in newspapers, smattered between the stories of politics and murder to make people feel better. The pair would talk about how their dreams connected for months before finally meeting in person and falling in love. Most readers wouldn’t read too much into it, and no one really believed in soulmates.

~~*~~

It was a reoccurring dream that always left me feeling empty inside once I woke up. It was a simple thing, more a feeling than a dream, but the weight of having someone’s arms around my waist, their face pressed against my own, their breath tickling my neck, a feeling of having someone there when they weren’t, it’s a hard feeling to shake when it felt so real.

My eyes fluttered awake as the last remnants of my dream were swept away by the harsh light of the afternoon sun, groaning I slowly propped myself up, checking my watch. The LED screen read 5:24 pm, my impromptu nap had only been little over an hour, work was more stressful than usual. I stretched my arms above my head and heaving another heavy sigh, I flopped back onto my pillows,  please let me continue that dream I prayed silently closing my eyes...After a minute or two after just laying with my eyes closed, I let out a huff, whatever hold on that sleep had on me was gone and now there was no chance of falling back into the dream. The dream that always felt so so real.

It happened every once in a while, the connection, but it always happened at random times, which basically told me that if soulmates were a thing, then my soulmate lived on the other side of the planet, or at the very least, had an odd sleep schedule. After every dream, I felt more refreshed and energized than before (though that could have been an after-effect of the nap itself).

If I was being honest with other people, I don’t think soulmates existed, it seems too improbable, too impossible that there was someone out there in the world who is my perfect match, who was my partner for life, romantic or otherwise.

But then again...the hopeless romantic in me firmly believed in it, believed that I had made the connection, if only for a split second. There were so many afternoon naps that I woke up from with the feeling of arms around my waist and a nose nuzzled in my hair. These feelings/dreams would only happen when I was super exhausted or emotionally drained, either because of how work/school went or because my depression came in a wave that crashed over me, making it hard to even see straight. It was especially on those days that I needed the comfort that came with the connection dreams.

I’ve basically resigned myself to the fact that the connection dreams will never happen when I need them to, that I’ll never be asleep at the same time as my soulmate (for longer than 20 minutes anyway), and that I’d never meet my soulmate. Until finally, it happens and the phantom feeling of arms around me develops into something more.

Until one night it happens.

I was struggling to open my apartment door, I had so much shit in my hands and I was so fucking tired from the shit-show of a day. As soon as I finally got in, I kicked off my heels, practically falling over myself. I threw down my lunch bag, backpack, purse, basically everything. I pulled out my phone from my pocket and as I fumbled to check my emails, it fell. And that was it. I stared at my phone on the floor and all of a sudden tears started welling up in my eyes. I started breathing heavier and faster and I just let myself fall to the floor, sobs wracking my body. I have no idea how long I stayed on the floor for, or why I was really in the middle of a breakdown. Yeah, work had been shit, the students I had were even worse than usual, but it wasn’t so different than any other day. But then again I was just so tired, I hadn’t been getting enough sleep lately, or come to think of it water or food. Financial struggles were such a burden and apparently, after months of the anxiety and depression bubbling up it finally spilled over.

Heaving a sigh, I dragged myself off the floor and stumbled to my room, too exhausted in all aspects to do anything other than just flop onto my bed. I rolled over and grabbed the stuffed sea otter plush I got at the aquarium, hoping it would help me feel better, closed my eyes and fell into a deep sleep.

As soon as I fall asleep, I feel that familiar weight settle over the curve of my waist. I sigh and push myself back a bit into their warmth. Thank god you’re here, please don’t leave anytime soon I say. I don’t expect any response, why would I? It’s been months of on and off connection dreams and usually, I can feel them for, at most, 20 minutes and even then the time flies and I never say anything. I don’t know why I said anything to begin with anyway. But as soon as the words leave my mouth, whoever is holding me, they stiffen, and then a pit settles in my stomach as I realize,  oh shit, they can hear me.

Is this actually happening? Comes a voice from behind, soft but husky, it almost makes me shiver, the feeling of their breath against the nape of my neck, are we actually dreaming together right now? Oh god, how I want to turn around, to see them, but I’m terrified. Not of them, but I’m so afraid any sort of movement will wake me up, or worse, that I'll turn around and it’ll be a normal dream. Not a connection dream, and goodness knows I couldn’t handle anything like that right now with my state of mind. And so...I just stay quiet. After all, there’s no actual rulebook on how this sort of thing works. Relishing in their warmth in their presence, after all, I’m half-expecting one of us to wake up at any point and all I want to do is feel comforted. They sighed, I guess you’re not really here and I am dreaming. Or maybe I need you more than you need me, but whatever the reason, I’m glad I finally get to hold you for just a bit longer. His voice is soft but almost sad, tinged with such a longing that sends a pang through my heart.

Alright, so it’s definitely not a regular dream, if it was a regular dream, something wild would have happened by now, and I don’t think I would be able to dream up such a wonderful voice. But I still can’t bring myself to turn around just yet, so I just let out a soft breath, and he pulls me closer and nuzzles his nose into the back of my neck.

When I wake up the next morning, I honestly don’t remember anything other than a soft white light, the feeling of warmth and a soft voice.

The next time it happens is a few days later, and I still don’t say anything, the fear of waking up rendering me basically incapable of doing anything other than burrowing further into their warmth.

This time though, he doesn’t just stay quiet, he starts to talk to me, I wonder if you can hear me, if you’re ignoring me, or if you’re as scared as I am? He laughs a bit, maybe if you knew who I was you would be scared, but I hope not. He keeps talking, mostly nonsense but when I wake up the next morning, I remember more of it, the “image” of the dream becoming sharper.

And so it goes on for a while, each night learning more about him when he talks. He’s always pensive, always wondering out loud what I’m like, what I’m thinking about.

Because it keeps happening, now he knows that I am there but he’s understanding of my silence.

One night he brings up the idea that they aren’t actually speaking the same language (or is it thinking? Since it’s happening in our heads). Even though I hear him in my own native language, he apparently is thinking/talking to me in another language, I wonder if you don’t talk to me because you don’t understand Korean, or maybe you do?

Each night I learn more and more, it feels almost unfair that he’s telling me all this and that I’m too much of a coward to say anything. I learn he likes music and when he runs out of things to talk about, he starts singing softly or rapping depending on his mood. He’s good at both, but I prefer his singing voice, may not be the best, but that makes me feel better. Makes him more human to me. The nights after he sings to me, I always try to remember the melody, it’s familiar, but then as the day goes on I forget more and more of it.

I learn that he has a big family, always telling me stories about his big brothers and little brothers, all the silly antics they get into.

I also find out that he’s here for a short time. Here being the area/zone/whatever that lets them connect basically every night. Now, our dreams connect I’m actually sleeping,  not napping like the first few times.

With each night and each dream, I start to communicate more. I’m still paranoid that it’s a regular dream and that I’ll wake up (the logical side of me thinks all this is just a wine-induced dream) so I still don't respond verbally to him, but I do nod or shake her head. I always adjust myself to be more comfortable in his arms.

With each dream comes more vivid memories the next morning, where before, when it all first started, I would remember nothing, just a comforting presence, now she can see more of him as well.

Each morning, the first thing I do is scour the internet looking for more information on soulmates, dreams, connections, and each time I find the same thing, “reports inconclusive”.

Two months after we start connecting more frequently, things change.

I’m leaving soon, we had just been lying together in the white space that is our shared dream space.

As soon as I hear this, my brain kicked into overdrive and the worst possible things flew past my mind. I guess when I was imagining the worst case scenario (which at the moment was that he was in a coma or something and that they were gonna pull the plug and I’d have to live my life alone) I tensed up or froze. I could feel him laugh, I humphed and he pulled me closer, rubbing circles with his thumb against my side,   I’m okay, I’m perfectly healthy, but I am leaving this area. I relax a tiny bit, but before I let myself relax completely, I wait for him to go on, I’m going back to Korea, which means we won’t be able to connect as often his voice becomes serious and sad. I don’t even know where you are, for all I know we could be across the country from each other right now, or even in the same city. His voice falls silent and I reach for the hand that is rubbing circles on my waist and interlace my fingers through his.

I don’t know how long we stay like that, silent, but I know it’s now or never. Finally, I talk to him, I’m going to miss this. I have to resist the urge to laugh because I can almost the surprise radiating off him, I’m sorry I haven’t said anything until now, I say rushing through my words so I can explain, I was afraid this wasn’t real, that this was just a regular dream, but then when I knew that it wasn’t a regular dream...I didn’t know when to start, I liked hearing your stories, hearing you sing. I let out a bitter laugh, that and I’m an awkward coward who didn’t know when the right time to talk was.

His body behind her relaxes as he snorts, I think you may be one of the few who like when I sing, people usually praise me for my rapping.

I huff, I love your voice … Oh fuck. I freeze, I don’t know where we are and I have to go and say that stupid four-letter word??? Fuck!

As I’m in the middle of my freak out I can feel his smile on the back of my neck and he pulls me a little closer, well if old wives tales are to be believed we are soulmates, of course you’re gonna love my voice, he teases and he tightens his hold on my waist.

We stay like that for a bit longer, a small pit of dread sitting in our stomachs as we hold onto each other, not knowing if I would wake up soon or if he would, if our dream would end soon.

What do you see when you look at me? He asks suddenly, breaking the silence, well, when you see my arm anyway he says pulling his hand away from mine and waving it around.

I snort at the silly motion, All I see is fuzzy white all around, the only thing that’s clear is you I answer, reaching out and lacing my fingers between his again, what do you see?

The same thing, he says, I see your hair, your arms and shoulders, he falters a bit, If this is the last time we connect, I want to see your face.

My brain short-circuits as he continues hurriedly, you don’t have to if you don’t want to.

I don’t say anything, I just slowly unlace our fingers, before I can say anything I can feel him starting to pull away, but before he can let the distance get any bigger I quickly grab his arm, close your eyes, I say.

He nods and swallows hard. I can’t read his mind, but I can tell he’s almost too unsure of his own voice.

He squeezes my hand and I know he has his eyes closed. I take a deep breath and close my eyes too. I shift in the space to face him, my hands finding a place on his chest. I freeze for a split second, his chest a lot more broad than I was expecting. I shake my head a teeny bit and take another deep breath.

One, I start

Two, he continues

Three, we whisper together opening our eyes, for the first time seeing each other fully.

Holy shit, I don't know if I say it out loud or if I’m just thinking it (though in this case, what’s the difference?). The man in front of me, the one who I’ve had essentially been sleeping with for the better part of two months, was international star Kim Namjoon, RM of BTS.

In my state of shock, there’s a sudden snap and the dream connection is severed. I sit up quickly, back in my own lonely bed in my own lonely apartment. My hand comes up to clutch at my throat, chest heaving with rapid breaths. Shit shit shit okay, slow down, the last thing I need is to have a fucking panic attack I go through my usual routine of calming my panic attacks, but I’m in too much shock and I start to hyperventilate tears blurring everything around me, of-fucking-course the universe would not only give me a soulmate who lives halfway around the fucking world. But it had to top it off with them being a fucking International star, a fucking idol! Fuck! The more rational part of my brain was going through all the scenarios and it came up with the same conclusion over and over, if it all was real and not some elaborate dream, it wouldn’t matter anyway, it was well known that it was near impossible for idols to date anyone, let alone a fan.

Too afraid to fall back asleep, to reconnect in their dreams, I stay up the rest of the night, alternating between cursing the universe and all the gods and beings I can think of, and crying until I’m numb, aching to be held by him again. To letting myself imagine all the scenarios where, by some miracle, that we could find a life together, where we could be happy and have a family together.

~*~

Miles away, Namjoon was going through the same rollercoaster of emotions. As soon as he woke up, he basically hurled himself out of his hotel bed over to the desk and opening up his laptop. Logging into Twitter, he spent the rest of the night poring over every single account of every single person who had ever liked, commented, retweeted anything they had posted. Desperate to see a picture of her, see a glimpse of her. She recognized me right?? So she knows who I am, she could be a fan or something. That singular thought kept him going as he checked account after account, trying to push away the ugly thoughts, the thoughts that were almost angry that if she had just talked to him all those times they had connected, that he could have found her, that he could have seen her for more than a split second before their connection was cut off.

He stayed at that desk until dawn finally broke, until he finally had to close his laptop and load into a car that would take him to a plane that would take him far far away from his soulmate.