#jh be stealing our hearts and eyes

[marymekpop]

⟢ highlight of the hour: my dearest [2/20] ⟣

to put it bluntly

[kimnjss]

unconscious confession | jhs

⤑  series: heartbreaker

⤑ pairing: stoner!hoseok x cheerleader!reader

⤑ genre: fluff !! 

⤑ rating: pg13

⤑ word count: 3.4 // unedited

⤑ warnings: use of recreational drugs..!!

⤑ A/N: hiiii! thanks to everyone who has been reading along so far and giving me feedback with each and every update !! i really appreciate it honestly it’s a really big motivator for me. sooo i hope you like this part as well, don’t forget to let me know what you think . and also it’s this hoseok walking around lmao .

OCTOBER 3RD, 2020 | 19:26

Hoseok showed up to the game while the players were still practicing and you and the rest of the squad were in the middle of stretches. He looks effortlessly handsome from the quick glimpse you get before he's slumping down onto the metal. Focus on tucking each crumble of weed into the paper, but he'd occasionally steal glances at you on the field.

And your eyes meet each and every time. He played into the casual feel he wanted to set for tonight, an oversized pale yellow shirt underneath his light denim jacket. The pants he wears matches the jean of his jacket but are covered in rips, hair being held back by a headband. You've never noticed it before, but staring at him from the field when you really should be stretching had you realizing how well he carried himself. All of the time.

Thankfully, you're able to keep focus while you're actually cheering. Ignoring the fuzzy feeling that rises in your chest at the sight of him cheering for you (it's not for the players on the field who are losing, badly). He even waves cutely at you as you're being thrown in the air and you consider ruining your form to wave back. But decide against it, Jimin would throw a fit.

His attention is on you from kickoff through overtime, taking the steps two at a time as the players line up to congratulate the winning team. “Ooh. Here comes your biggest fan,” Jimin points out from beside you, slightly breathless from the back-to-back routines.

You're gulping down mouthfuls of water, so you actually don't see when Hoseok makes his way over to you. Not until Jimin's words are registering and your head is whipping around to catch the wide smile on his pretty face. He doesn't hesitate to drop his arm over your shoulders, easily tucking your body into his side.

Instantly, you're engulfed in the familiar scent of him. The subtle stench of weed masked by his sweet cologne. You've never been around a guy who smelt as sweet as Hoseok always did, used to the overpowering stink of AXE body spray, but you're convinced he's never purchased a bottle. 

He's offering a quick nod of acknowledgment to Jimin, which is met with a halfhearted wave as he leans down to tie his laces. “You were pretty cool cheering,” He tries to be nonchalant with his compliment, eyes focused on the sky as he talks. Which is pointless, you already caught the way he had been cheering from the crowd.

“'Pretty cool', that's it?” There's a playful smirk on your lips that he finds way more inciting than he should. But, he's determined to keep his cool in front of you so all he does is lift his shoulders in a slight shrug. “Yeah, pretty cool.” He repeats in the same tone as before.

You don't even bother to mask the snicker that sneaks past your lips. “I put my leg behind my head it was just 'pretty cool'? Maybe you need an up-close demonstration?” It's the one that you use that catches him off guard, highlighting the meaning behind your suggestion.

He stumbles slightly, eyes widening slightly. That was obviously something he's thought about before... respectfully. This wasn't the first time he's seen what your body could do and it never failed to get his mind wandering. Of course, he's thought if he had the chance to sleep with you, would you pull out the same tricks you do on the field. Who wouldn't wonder that with someone they were pursuing? 

But, the fact that you were mentioning it. Hinting at it like you were planning for exactly that to happen, that was a whole different ballpark. And it's obvious from the slightly dazed look in his eye, that you can't help but laugh at. Pulling him from his thoughts with the sound of your laugh.

“You're funny,” You say through your laughter, which he's quickly catching on to – soft chuckles leaving his lips.

He leads you all the way to the locker rooms, where he waits outside for you to change out of your uniform and into the sweater and jeans you had picked out for your date. Compliment at the edge of his tongue the moment you're stepping out, arm dropping back down around your shoulder.

While the two of you walk to his car, he fills you in on the hilarious thing Jeongguk did that morning. And you laugh along with him. Like an actual laugh, not one of those forced ones to boost his ego. He's animated as he speaks, gesturing wide and goofy voices tagged as his friend's voices.

You're a few steps from his car when he's rushing ahead of you, pulling the car door open before dramatically gesturing to it. “M'lady,” He says as you pass him and you know he's just kidding, but your heart skips a beat.

There's got to be something wrong with you, you're sure of it. You've been on tons of dates in the past and here you were all warm and fuzzy inside and the date has barely started. It was comforting being around Hoseok, though. As if you've always known him, you hardly had to do any thinking when you texted and it was no different in person.

You can't help but wonder if it felt like that for him too. A connection like that can't just go unnoticed, right? Or maybe you were getting ahead of yourself. “Will you tell me now where we're going?” You're asking as he's settling into the space beside you, tugging his seatbelt around his waist.

“I won't tell you until we're there.” You had spent the entire night before trying to guess where he was taking you, which was no use. The shrug emoji was a favorite of his you were quickly realizing. “It's really cool, though. You're gonna like it,” He says with a grin.

If that was supposed to ease your curious mind, it does the exact opposite. A place he was sure you were going to like? How would he know? Talked for seven days straight, but that's only one week. Do you really know what someone likes after one week?

Hoseok's quiet the entire car ride, a small smile playing on his lips as he drives. You're too busy striking out possible date locations to make any conversation, so the soft sound of his music is the only noise that fills the car. He's humming along to the beat, fingers tapping against the steering wheel, hair being swept by the wind. He's something out of a movie, it's hard to really focus on anything else.

Ten whole minutes pass of you shamelessly admiring his profile before he's shoving the car into park. “We're here,” Arms stretched out in front of him and your eyes squint, figuring you're missing something. “Where's here?” You're asking when you can't find the answer for yourself.

Hoseok lets out a small laugh, hand reaching to unbuckle his seatbelt. “You gotta get out to see it,” He's at your door seconds later, pulling it open and offering his hand out to you. Which you take, allowing him to pull you from the warmth and into the night wind. With his fingers laced with yours, he leads you away from the car.

You were standing on a cliff and the closer you get to the edge, the prettier it gets. Lights from the city below twinkling, but it looks so quiet. “You can see everything up here,” His fingers are still laced with yours, forgotten between you. “Right. I like to come here sometimes and just look,” Even with the endless conversation the two of you shared throughout the week, there were still quite a few things you didn't know about him.

Like the fact that he had a spot or the reason, he felt like he needed one in the first place. “How come you wanted to have our date here?” Aren't spots supposed to be private? Wouldn't showing you where he goes to 'just look', take away from that?

All at once, he's becoming all too aware with the warmth of your hand in his. The small tingle he feels throughout his palm that he had done a good job at ignoring up until now. It's the reason he's wiggling his fingers from your grasp and shoving his hand into the front pocket of his jeans.

He's plopping down on the rock with a thud, shoulders shrugging. “I don't know. Sometimes when we talk, I feel like bringing you here. So I did.” He's trying to be cool and you're not too sure why. There's a code in his words that isn't at all hard to read. He wanted to bring you here, let you in on a piece of him and no matter how nonchalant he tried to act about it, that's what it was.

So you're lowering yourself to sit beside him. From his pocket, he's pulling out a pre-rolled blunt and tucking it between his lips. He's quick with lighting it, taking his time with inhaling. “I don't really go on dates like that, you know. I mean, I do... but I don't. When I take girls out, it's like a gratuity, you know? But, I like talking to you and I wanted to show you something cool too. So I brought you here,”

His free hand rests on the ground behind you, inadvertently pulling your body closer to his. “Do you like it?” There's a bit of hopefulness in his voice that's hard to miss.

You're smiling brightly up at him, nodding your head to rid him of any confusion. “I like it. It's really pretty. Thank you for showing it to me,” Just your smile was enough to have the flutter starting up in his chest, but the way you talked to him? He'd turn into a blubbering fool if he wasn't careful.

He extends his hand, wordlessly offering the smoke out to you. And you're assuming that he just wants you to hold it for a second, so you pluck it from his fingers. And wait. He's snorting out a laugh at the patient look on your face. “You gonna hit it or...?”

“Oh! Uhm... no?” He's quick with pulling it from your fingers at the rejection, no desire to waste anything. “Why not? Are you like a good girl or something?” He teases, words coming through a cloud of smoke.

You're letting out a scoff, eyes rolling at his words. “No. I'm an athlete. My body is my most important instrument. Which includes my lungs,” He's bursting out laughing at the snootiness hidden in your tone. A loud laugh contagious laugh that could probably be heard throughout the entire city.

“Well, excuse me,” He speaks through your dying laughter.

With his arm resting behind you, you're naturally leaning into his side. The calm of the night and having him so close has a warm feeling settling in your chest, so much so that it's hard to contain the smile that has spread onto your features. Sitting in comfortable silence and watching the city below and it doesn't feel weird.

Content with just being around him and that's something you've never felt before. Whether or not he was feeling it too was lost on you, his focus on moving the blunt to and from his lips, a cloud of smoke forming above your heads.

“You see that greenish building?” You're pointing a little ways ahead of you. He has to lean forward and squint to see what you're referring to but nods once he spots it. “That's my middle school,” Punctuating your words with a grin up at him.

His fingers move to flick his scraps into the window, his body moving closer to you now that his focus wasn't split. “What was Middle School Yn like?” His free hand fidgets with the pebbles on the other side of his body, the other resting over your shoulder.

“Middle School Yn?” You repeat with a laugh, head tilting to the side as you're brought back to what you were like in middle school. Nothing like how you've turned out. “She was... different?” You're laughing again, planning on leaving it at that.

But, he's got this expectant look on his face, waiting for you to go on. So you do. “I kept to myself mostly, didn't have many friends. Not nearly as confident as I am now. I read a lot and did my homework. That's it,” He doesn't seem shocked or even surprised by the fact that you weren't always this popular magazine cut-out creation of yourself.

He doesn't even bat an eye, simply nodding at your words. “So you were a little nerdy?” His words don't come out in the rude unconvinced way that you've heard before when showing your past yearbooks. It's more like he's trying to get an image of what you looked like back than despite anything else.

“You could say that,” He's nodding, brushing the dirt from his hands. “Cute. Middle School me would've had the biggest crush on you.” Hoseok speaks as if it's just another fact like his words don't have a flutter shooting through your chest.

And with how sure he was that you two would've hit it off in middle school, you can't help but become curious. “What were you like back then?” You try to picture what a younger version of him would look like. How he'd act. Probably still cool, unbothered by most things that would usually send kids into a rage.

Your imagination doesn't get too far before he's answering. “I was a bit of a hothead... always wanted to fight someone. I was sensitive and emotional, so I argued a lot with whoever. I had a ton of friends, though. But looking, they were probably just afraid of not being my friend.” He laughs so you offer up a small giggle.

Your hand had been mindlessly resting on his thigh before, fingers tracing patterns into the fabric of his jeans as he speaks. “So why do you think you'd have a crush on me?” From the way he described himself, it seemed like you two wouldn't even sit by each other – let alone be close enough that he'd develop a crush.

He's shrugging at your words, an action that you've quickly realized is his favorite. A way to give off nonchalance, but looking close enough it's not hard to detect the light blush that dusts over his cheeks. “You said you were quiet. I think I would've liked being around you. Listening to you talk... like now,” His arm drops from your shoulders to wrap around your waist, using his grip to pull you closer to him.

“Think if I met you then or now, I'd still be into the way you smile... or the pretty way you roll your eyes when you're trying to act annoyed. And yeah, just you.” His hand reaches for yours in his lap, loosely twisting your fingers with his. “Any version of me would like you,” It's so soft, you're not sure if that last part was meant for you to hear.

His eyes are focused out in front of you, not even slightly looking like someone that just confessed. So you ignore it, summing it up as a slip of the tongue. You don't comment, but that doesn't stop the butterflies from taking over your stomach.

All at once, you're being met with the undeniable urge to kiss him. Just to see what it feels like. Throw out the self-proclaimed challenge you set for yourself because Arya was probably wrong. You've spent the entire night with the guy, he cheered you on from the crowd, brought you to his spot, and now this... unconscious confession. The fact that he liked you was on his mind so much that he was saying it without even realizing it.

You found it extremely hard to think someone like that would have the wrap sheet he was given. Or, maybe he did in the past... but with you it was different. Why else would he take you here, invite you into his space and talk to you the way that he has if it wasn't anything different? Right?

Right.

So before you can talk yourself out of it, you're tilting your head to the side to face him. “It's pretty here, huh?” Voice much softer now, you've taken control of the fiddling of fingers. Twisting yours around him and occasionally brushing your nails against his skin. It's subtle enough to be taken lightly but just enough to leave his skin tingling.

He's quick to pick up on your change of demeanor, brows raising in slight surprise, but he doesn't say anything. In fact, he's following your lead, leaning his body in closer to yours. “Mhm. Quiet too, nobody really comes over here,” His fingers tug at the belt loops in your jeans, tongue pushing out to wet his lips.

“That's good,” Your breath brushes against his lips as you speak, eyes dropping to his lips. He doesn't say anything else, gently pulling his fingers from your grasp just so he can spread his palm on the side of your neck. And then his lips are crashing down onto yours, hand holding your head in place.

Hoseok kisses you slowly at first, mouth molding with yours. But it's not long before he's brushing his tongue over your lips, testing the waters before he's plunging in. Fingers pressed into his jeans, you try to keep your head from spinning as his tongue pushes against yours. He tastes earthy... but a little sweet. It's intoxicating.

With two hands planted firmly on your hips, he's easily lifting you onto his lap. The movement so fast it's forcing you to break the kiss, a squealed laugh breaking the kiss. Which he meets with a wide grin, reaching to push your hair from your face. Slowly, he drags the tips of his fingers over your jawline, until he's holding your chin between his thumb and index finger.

“I really like your lips,” He says through a groan, leaning in to cover your mouth with his once more. Hands dropping to cover the curve of your ass, pushing your body further up on his lap so your hips collide. You can feel his half-hard cock pressed against your thigh and it takes everything in you not to grind your hips forward.

The feeling of his cool hands slipping underneath your sweater has a shiver running down your spine. Body reacting to the way his fingers climb up your skin, grazing over the underwire of your bra. His teeth tug at your lower lip and you feel the twitch of his cock hardening as his hands slide underneath.

Your slow with pulling back, not fully wanting to pull away – but knowing if you didn't stop now you wouldn't be able to convince yourself later on. It's cute, though, the way his lips chase yours as you put distance between the two of you. When he's not tasting the peach of your lip gloss, his eyes flutter open.

Two large hands resting over your breasts, cheeks matching the color of his eyes. “You don't want to?” He looks genuinely confused, like someone not wanting to sleep with him right away was some foreign concept. Still, he's pulling his hands from the inside of your shirt, resting them behind him.

“Not yet,” He nods, glossy lips spreading into a smile. “Okay,” He leans up to press a reassuring kiss to your nose before he's sliding you off of his lap. And then, without missing a beat he's saying. “I bet I can name more constellations than you,” Completely wiping away any possibility of an awkward moment rising.

Challenging you with a smirk on his face and the comfortable atmosphere you had been in before is quickly returning. “Yeah, okay.” He's stretched out on the ground so he can look at the sky properly and you're quick to lower yourself beside him.

And just like that, you're pointing out clusters of stars, laughing at the ridiculous names that you come up with. Your head pressed to his shoulder and his arm wrapped around you. You don't even notice as the hours tick by.

— you’re just his type. so it’s no surprise when all of his time and effort goes into making you his. though, they’ve always said… you only want it because you can’t have it.

⤪ masterlist ⤨

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A/N: timestamps make sense throughout the fic. if u want to be added to the tag list, send me an ask! + if you’ve asked to be on my permanent taglist, you do not need to ask to be added to this one !!

[yeoldontknow]

the light keeper’s daughter | jhs (m) ↠ teaser

↝ Pairing: lighthouse keeper!hoseok x goddess of light!reader (oc; female) ↝ Genre: soulmate au; secret relationship au; gods/goddess au; mentions of arranged marriage; heavy angst; smut; romance; pining ↝ Rating: NC-17 | 18+ ↝ Summary: For years, you’ve kept your relationship with Hoseok a secret. As the daughter of the God of Light, you are destined to marry anyone who slays the beast in the Gloaming Isles in your honor. When that day finally comes, you go to Hoseok to tell him your relationship must end and you are set to be married. One last time, Hoseok reminds you no one will love you as eternally, as enduringly, as he. ↝ Warnings: explicit sex; explicit language; pregnancy; unprotected sex; creampie; clit biting; masturbation; pain kink; size kink; overstimulation; some light degradation; dirty talk; cum play; panty sniffing; crying; biting; marking; scratching; brief mentions of blood ↝ Word Count: projected - 14k | teaser - 1.2K    ↝ special thank you to @jamaisjoons​ for this amazing banner!    ↝ full fic coming july 31

‘Hoseok.’ The quiver of your bottom lip disrupts the cadence of his name, besmirching it to little more than a sob.

Sucking air through his teeth, Hoseok leans forward, pressing his forehead against yours as his eyes fall shut. At such close proximity, you study the almost feminine length of his eyelashes, the pores of his skin, and wonder who or what god or demon you could barter with to stay inside him forever.

‘You’re supposed to be mine,’ he whimpers, the sadness welling up in him like a mountain. ‘You are mine, but…I will always be yours. Even when they untie us, I’ll be yours. They can’t thread me with anyone else. I don’t think my soul will allow it.’ 

Unable to sustain it any longer, your desire for him rises to a swell, erupting beside your sorrow - just as fervent, and even more unyielding. His words are a comfort, an echo you will revisit over and over when you have long departed, but your skin has learned how to ache for his touch, learned how to anticipate the way he moves over you like water, and you need it. You need him.

The rest of your pitiful existence looms out before you, days and months and centuries passing without Hoseok to hold you and keep you, and you despise the very notion of it. You rebuke it, refusing to let yourself continue on without knowing how it feels to have him. Tonight, you do not want him as your lover.

Tonight, you want him as your husband.

‘Kiss me,’ you announce, guiding his forehead away from yours, skin prickling with the lack of his warmth. ‘Kiss me like it’s our wedding. I -’ The tightness of your voice steals your breath, words hot and heavy in your mouth as you say them. ‘I want to know what a marriage bed truly feels like. I want to know what our marriage bed would be like.’

Mad with an unbearable passion, no longer contained, Hoseok heeds your words and lets his tongue wander over the seam of your lips. You cling to him, clutching what you can of his shape, his body, and you sigh in woeful euphoria, granting him unspoken entry to the recesses of your mouth - but he does not enter. Your lover has always been disobedient, reckless in the evening when your skin and your lips and your heart are presented to him, and tonight he is no different.

Tonight, he scorns the hour, taking his time as he traces over your cupid’s bow with his tongue, rendering the turn of the earth meaningless. The heat of his breath tickles your skin, a cascade in which you luxuriate, and your eyes, blurred by the urgency of your desire, lose all sense of your surroundings until there is only Hoseok.

Hoseok - on you, around you, all over you, the rain and the wind all at once.

Only when he has had his fill of your lips does he press the whole of his mouth against yours, sucking languidly at your bottom lip. Skin growing tight, you keen into his kiss, consumed by greed. Slowly, he moves his hands down and down, letting his fingers trace indeterminate lines over your cheeks, your jaw, your bones until they rest at your neck. With his palm over your pulse, he holds you still, his touch a fever, his touch the sun, radiating deep into the caverns of your heart. 

Filled with him, you think. Absolutely alive with him, Hoseok lets his palm cradle the tether of your life until you are certain he is the oxygen made to sustain your mortal form. You, living and breathing, are little more than remnants of departed touches, composed entirely of his affections, his affirmations, his adoration.

So, too, do you kiss at him, battling against him for any semblance of permanence, demanding that you be remembered. Feeling you writhe against him, insistent in your need for closeness, he hums in pleasure, a musical sound that traverses your synapses with unhurried ease. Gooseflesh raises on your arms, either by a passing breeze or the way Hoseok leans in, harder, rougher, all manner of dominance in the way he so desperately seeks to have you, and you shiver, delighted by the peak in your senses; delighted, fundamentally, that you will commit every moment of this last evening to bodily memory.

Willing to be devoured, you surrender to him, feeling arousal leak from between your folds as though his savagery has given it permission to spill over. It soaks into your underwear where you briefly mourn the fact that it will not coat your thighs, not yet, and that Hoseok must wait to see how easily you could paint yourself in your wanting. Like always, he anticipates you and ardent your longing; perceptive and always acutely aware of the way you have grown wanton. depraved by the strength of his kisses alone. 

Hoseok eases his hand to the back of your neck, determination apparent in his grip, and guides you forward to rest in his lap. Letting your legs settle on either side of his thighs, you straddle him, unwilling to break any contact he has with you, your skin, you, your hands on him. You come together like a cataclysm, the burgeoning tip of his erection firm and stubborn where it presses against your core, assertive and tantalizing even beneath the fabric of his trousers. 

It’s lewd the way you crave him so deep inside you, jaw dropping as your mouth opens wide to gasp in delight. Hoseok wastes no time in letting his tongue glide against yours, explorative and eager, utterly deliberate in his stroking. Slowly, the tips of his fingers move from your neck to your hairline, ever deeper and ever more intrusive. A low chuckle rumbles in his throat as he runs his tongue over yours, grazing the roof of your mouth before he forms a fist in your hair and tilts your head back, swift and aggressive. 

All at once he pulls away, face hovering just centimeters above yours and gaze hooded as he explores your lustful expression. A flush creeps into your cheeks, the control he has over the flow of your blood is always surprising even if it is to be expected. Hoseok seems pleased, evident in the familiar way his eyes have become blackened by the force of his yearning and the smile that has worked its way into the corner of his lips, a secret for only you to discover. He takes a pause, disregarding his haste, to regard you: your parted lips, your heated cheeks - a fire that has spread itself over your chests and breasts.

‘You are a vision of sin,’ he murmurs, cocking his head to the side and tightening his grip in your hair. ‘What would all the gods say?’

Your own nails scratch tenderly into his scalp, gripping his hair to mirror his hold on you. Futile, you know. The strength in Hoseok is silent, a gift that makes him appear merely pretty until the seat of his power is fully revealed, a fortitude you could never mimic.

You swallow, preparing to speak, and watch the way Hoseok studies the movement of your throat. ‘They would call me a harlot.’ 

His gaze returns to yours, an otherwise thoughtful look turned menacing by the terror of his passion. ‘And are you?’

Tongue heavy in your mouth, you struggle with the few words you can manage. ‘They will make me out to be,’ you affirm slowly, poignantly, ‘and it will be your fault. You’ve made me a slut.’

[mochii0park]

 meraki; chapter 01 I jhs

Title: Meraki

Pairing: Hoseok x Reader / Jin x Reader

Part of series: Waterlilies and Japanese Bridge

Genre: angst I fluff

Pairing: literaryscout!hoseok x writer!reader

Word count: 4.5k

Summary: Throughout your whole life you lived in your sister’s shadow, watching from side-lines as she formed herself into a successful businesswoman with an envying life. Never being able to fill her shoes you gradually understood the meaning of an estranged family and the burden it carried. The twenties began slowly slipping from your grasp which had been embedded with insecurities and longing for fulfilment. Pouring your heart out to strangers with a pseudonym meraki, you began second guessing the decision when an email lands in your inbox.

Author's note: unedited, it's 2am I'll reread it tomorrow

Taglist: if you want to be added to the taglist message me

@namsope32 , @cuteipat , @ofvopemin

Masterlist

Meraki masterlist

< intro | chapter 02 >

Seokjin got engaged and moved to the USA.

Your lanky fingers hover over the keyboard, the reality of the situation still lingering in the air. The send button felt heavy, as if the action would make a shift in your universe. You have already made mends with how things were going between you, but it still felt crushing.

Sucking up the little pride you had left after lying to your friend, you push the button and lock the phone hoping to gain some sanity in your walk back to the apartment. It had been a regular night out with your friends. Coffee chitchat alongside freshly baked cookies which you got as an apology for being late.

Your mutual friends felt the need to notify you of the sudden change in Seojkin’s life, wanting you to hear it from them first. Pushing it to the back of your mind as nothing but an additional fact, you continue through the night with a smile. That lasted until you the rounder the corner.

Seokjin had been your friend through university and even later as you grew up and struggled to make ends meet.  You had been there for him when his girlfriend of five years decided to dump his ass having a shift in her feelings towards him. You mended his heart through late night talks and rides across the city. He was your kiss partner after breakups, picking up your self-esteem and gluing it together. In conclusion, Seokjin was your everything. If only the feeling was mutual.

Days before deciding to confess to him, he blasts your phone with messages about a girl that pulled all the strings in his heart and awoke oceans of memories. Kim Jisoo was his high-school crush with whom he lost contact after entering his last relationship. Reconciling through social media the two hit off where they last left it and suddenly you became the dust under his shoes. 

Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months of not seeing him. With a deeply rooted pain in your chest and a jealousy for the new girl in his life you stepped down allowing Jisoo to consume his being. Afterall who were you than a mere friend, easily replaceable.

The last slap came when you drunkenly confessed, having enough of their roller coaster like relationship. That was the last time you’ve heard of Seokjin’s teary-eyed voice telling you goodbye over the phone. No matter how many times he told you this sounded like the end and the suffering he felt was unbearable; it was nothing compared to the sound of your heart shattering into pieces.

Sehun told you many times that the timing was so off it made him uncomfortable, but that’s the thing about you and Seokjin. Everything was off with the two of you. From kisses to cuddles to nudes after midnight to serious conversations about pineapple pizza. Friends don’t do that, is what you kept telling yourself when the feelings for him slowly grew from platonic to romantic.

In midst of your thoughts your phone rang. Sehun the attachment dealer flashed across your phone. Giggling at the memory of how the nickname came to be, a warm feeling nest itself inside your chest. “Hello?”

“Where are you?”

“I left the Howl Cafe, I’m near home.”

He hums, the sound of the blinker echoing in the distance. “I’m there in five. Meet me at the bus station at beginning of your street.”

There were instances when disobeying Sehun felt like the biggest thrill of your life but right now when feelings you couldn’t pinpoint ran through you clouding your judgement, Sehun felt like a silver lining. As you wait for him to arrive, you can’t help but scroll through your phone in search for that one picture of Seokjin.

The only one you’ve saved after your last conversation. He was leaning against the wall of the bakery, a cigarette hanging from his mouth. His bleached hair fell over his rimmed glasses giving him an emo vibe. It was somewhere around three am when you’ve taken this photo. 

Both of you exhausted from running aimlessly around the city. He begged you to visit this bakery at the top of a hill, assuring you about the quality of their goods. You remember that night vividly, how you would steal a kiss or two in the shadows hiding from the reality. How he would woo you with his terrible French accent and you would answer him in your broken German.

You miss him. You miss him to the point where it physically hurt.

Sehun honks ever so caring about the people sleeping peacefully in their homes. He bursts into laughter at your jumpy reaction making you feel annoyed as you lock your phone. Settling yourself in his car you wait for his I told you so, but it never comes. Instead, he turns on his Spotify playlist clicking on Olivia Rodrigo’s good 4 u blasting it a such high volume all thoughts you had were overridden with the upbeat song.

Sehun had been your friend for the same amount Seokjin was. The two knew each other through a few short encounters, for some reason they never crossed paths for longer than ten minutes. For that you were thankful. The song comes to a finish and Sehun observes you from his seat. The lights of the city painted on the window illuminated your face, giving him a prefect view of your perplexed expression.

“How are you feeling?”

You knew he would ask this question, after all the sole reason you were driving on a highway was because of your damped mood but in whole honesty you didn’t know the answer.

“A part of me had expected it. He talked about marrying her, but he also talked about wanting to drop everything and own a cottage in Sweden.”

“Your taste in men is terrible. Remember Mark? The guy who had so many career goals but couldn’t leave his house because he thought having a life outside work was overly distracting for his oh so important career as IT support at ZARA? Or Mino who was so high you couldn’t recognise him when he dropped the weed after your breakup.” Sehun snorts.

You roll your eyes at him. Surely your boyfriend track wasn’t the best but it’s not like you seek out boys with issues, it seems that they attach themselves to you and you can’t get rid of them without a major heartbreak. “Whatever.”

Sehun stretches forward pulling your favourite chocolate bar out of the compartment, throwing it in your lap. You smile, munching on it as you switch the song to Zayn and Sia’s Dusk Till Dawn.

“I just expected him to inform me.”

Sehun shakes his head. “I am not sure why you expected that. You two haven’t shared one conversation in two months. You’ve asked for space when he told you he can’t choose between you and Jisoo. Plus, that was a dick move to be honest making him choose between his girlfriend and his best friend.”

“Space,” you emphasise,” not utter silence. He didn’t move two fucking blocks Sehun. He moved to a whole fucking country without telling a soul. Our mutual friend finds out through an Instagram story. Fucking Instagram. And I don’t care, he was a dick that started this charade might as well end it.”

By now you were fully shouting, the tears that threatened to spill before now rushing down your face. In this moment you didn’t care much about Sehun’s awkwardness regarding tears and crying, that was pushed aside when he backed Seokjin’s decision and pissed all over yours.

“Y/N,” he whispers, turning down the volume as you whimper, “there is not much you can do. You must respect his decision. You can’t force someone to love you.”

It was your turn to huff at the stupidity of his words. “I don’t know about you, but I don’t go about kissing people. Respect decision? Fuck that. Did he respect me when he made a fool out of me?

“No.”

Sehun exhales knowing that in this case you weren’t in the right mind to have a rational conversation. Seokjin was your weak point, he knew that much. Your emotions began to pour out, leaving you a sobbing mess in his car. 

“Look, I can’t stop you from having all sort of emotions for him. I can only advice you to turn off your phone for tonight and give yourself time to process the information before doing anything you might regret.”

 “I won’t blast his phone with insulting messages if that’s what you think.”

“Good, also don’t eat out your emotions. You can’t stand too much sugar in your system.” 

“Thanks doctor. I’ll just write out my emotions instead.” You say leaning into the seat, closing your eyes as you listen to the music.

“You still write on that blog?” You can hear some amazement in Sehun’s voice, and you know it’s not to mock you but to praise you for managing to stay faithful to one thing this long. You had a reputation for giving up on things in early stages because you couldn’t finish them perfectly.

The rest of the ride was spent with you eating out your emotions with the food Sehun bought from your local fast-food restaurant. Not much was said between you and him as he drove into the night letting you process the whole situation, only dropping you off at home when you felt yourself calming down.

Once in the confides of your room you strip yourself of any pent-up emotions letting all the pallet of different feelings overran you. Taking a pen, you let your heart pour into endless words scribbled away in your notebook. When you’ve felt empty the high gone, you take your laptop opening the site you’ve a long time member of. It came to you on Instagram in a form of a poorly done advertisement. It was a website for people wanting to share their poetry with strangers.

At first, you’ve done what you always do: began self-doubting your poems and their worth. Most of them were written in a spur of a moment when you felt like you would burst from the number of things you felt. But one night, when sleep couldn’t come to you and the pain of losing the person you held dear lingered in the air threatening to choke you; you signed in posting your work. It was raw and you suddenly felt exposed and naked in front of the world.

That’s how Meraki came to be. How your pseudonym became your shield, allowing you to burden it with any thought or emotion you’ve felt. In the online world Meraki was a fierce writer, letting her readers know of the pain and suffering she felt. In real world Meraki was an introverted person hiding herself from anyone willing to come close.

                                                   ____

 It was a hot Wednesday morning when you’ve gotten an e-mail from your sister informing you of her whereabouts. Due to your mother’s work preventing her from traveling, she decided to pay you a visit instead; much to your delight. The days to her wedding were numbered and so was your sanity.

Luckily for you she and her fiancée decided to stay with your parents.

The thought of her roaming the halls of the only place you’ve managed to cover in comfort was disturbing you. It wasn’t that you hated your sister but although you’ve dealt with your own insecurities some parts of the trauma still hung over you.

You’ve managed to avoid her for a good number of days since she landed in Seoul but now a week later you ran out of excuses. That’s how you found yourself sitting in a posh sea food restaurant, juggling your anxiety during the family dinner.

The last time you saw your whole family was at your grandfather’s birthday (which happened six months ago). The event left a bad taste in your mouth after you’ve spent majority of time listening to your sister’ success only receiving attention when she addressed you.

Solar and her fiancée Minho discussed the menu as they skimmed through different meals. You have been so busy staring at one spot that you’ve never noticed the waiter taking orders.

“Y/N?” Solar spoke catching your attention.

“One chicken fillet for me please.” You were so preoccupied with different thoughts you never saw what they had to offer therefore you went with your go-to food.

The moment the waiter leaves the table with the menus, your mother scoffs. “Aish you’re eating chicken again, we’re in an exclusive sea food restaurant and you’re embarrassing us.  “

“Mother, let her eat what she wants.” Solar interrupted your mother’s complaining, switching the topic to her wedding dress. Your mother beamed at the photos she showed her.

It was somehow sad how much power Solar had over your parents. One word was enough to ease them into doing whatever she liked whilst you had to beg and crawl your way and even then, you were no match for her.

You felt severely out of the place. The two talking about preparations while your father and Minho gushed over their new apartment in Tokyo. You sat there in your chair counting down minutes until you could leave. Any other day you wouldn’t bother to attend the dinner but now Solar insisted you showed up. Something about the sight of her family warming her heart, bunch of bullshit.

“How are you doing Y/N?” She asks ignoring your mother as she mumbles under her breath about your bad habits, one being smoking.

You took up smoking in your last year of university when the pressure of getting a master’s degree and balancing your parents had been too much to take in. A lot of your friends decided to find comfort in weed, but you never understood the thrill of it. Rather than spending enormous amounts for just one puff, you could buy a pack of cigarettes and still have money left for some booze.

“Not much, same old same old.” You answered pushing your nervousness away.

There wasn’t much happening in your life. You’ve started a job in a bookstore and spent your free time either with Sehun or Jihyo.

“How’s Seokjin?”

That one question had caught the table’s attention and suddenly you felt a terrible need to smoke one. Your families were acquainted through work, your fathers working together on a project. They had been shocked when they discovered that you and Seokjin had been close friends for a long time.

“He’s fine.”

“I heard he got engaged,” Your mother spoke up,” to Kim’s daughter Jisoo. Ah what a wonderful being that one is.”

“Oh?” Solar gave your mother a perplexed look narrowing her head at you. You played with the glass in front of you, the object suddenly becoming interesting.

“I thought you and he were dating.” Minho joined, telling the words that were stuck on the tip of your sister’s tongue.

“Y/N and Seokjin? Don’t make me laugh. They are worlds apart. Seokjin is so focused on his career while our Y/N thinks writing will make her a fortune.”

Taking a sip of water, you try your best to wash away the nasty words threatening to leave your mouth. Your parents never approved of your career choice not that you even cared about their opinion.

Solar hums pulling her lips into a straight line. “I’ve must’ve mistaken then. I was sure I saw you-“

“Here is your food.”

And that’s how you were saved from the embarrassment of having to explain to your sister that what she saw was imagination playing tricks on her and not you and Jin making out in front of your house. It was awkward enough when she pestered you about it the next day.

The conversation takes on a different dynamic and you breathe out in relief. You were still trying to process the news and talking about him wasn’t helping your soul.  You gather yourself before your façade could fall and mask it with a stoic expression continuing your countdown till desert when Sehun would call you for an “emergency”.

Right on time you think as your phone began to ring.

You pretend to gasp covering your mouth to show concern as Sehun sputtered nonsense. He kept talking about his trip to the gym and how his feet hurt from all the exercise he did while you tried not to show disgust as explained in detail how hit his little finger against a metal device . Solar shot you a worried look as you excused yourself from the table.

“And the award for the best actress goes out to Y/L Y/N” Sehun pitches once you close the door of the restaurant. Shooting a quick apology message to Solar, you jump into his car deJa’vu hitting you.

“I should get paid for spending so much time with you.” Sehun dripped in sweat, his black shirt sticking moistly to his body, hair pushed back.

You shrugged falling into a comfortable silence. Half an hour later he stops at the number 13, the windows of your house distinguishable by the large number of flowers catching last rays of Sun before the night settles.

“That will be 100 won and a Mcdonald’s later when you’re free.”

“Yeah, not happening” you tell Sehun, already halfway out of the car, rucksack slipping from your shoulder.

He raises a brow at you.” I am not your personal driver Y/N. I had to leave my girlfriend to drive you back.”

You scoff as you roll your eyes at him.�� I’ve told you to call me for an emergency. There was no picking up included.”

He mimics your words mockingly before pressing the gas pedal leaving you behind him. Unlocking your apartment door, you’re greeted with your dog sleeping in the hallway not giving you a second glance as you pass over him. Haku’s snores echo through the empty apartment warming your heart. The Shiba became your companion two years ago when you were going through a rough patch. It took some time for you to get used to each other but now you couldn’t image not having his snot buried into your business.

Turning on the lights you sit at the kitchen table pulling your leg up to rest your head on the knee. Opening your laptop, you see a few notifications popping up on the sideline about your recent orders. Just when you were about to close the notification center you see one mail standing out. The name Jung Hoseok makes you jolt in your seat.

Dear writer aka meraki,

I hope this e-mail find you well. My name is Jung Hoseok, I’m the CEO of ZER Publishing company. I’ve taken interest in your poetry and would like to have a meeting to discuss a possible collaboration between us.

Kind regards,

Jung Hoseok

The scream that came from you couldn’t possibly be human. Closing the laptop as if it will burn you, you throw it on the sofa choosing to avoid it until tomorrow.

You didn’t know how he found you giving that any personal information on the site was strictly private. Pacing back and forward you facetimed Sehun. He picks up after three very long rings making your heart beat erratically against your chest.

“I swear to God if this is another one of your emergency calls.” Sehun stands there in nothing but a towel hugging his waist. He moves to the other side of the bathroom, bare feet pacing against the marble floor.

“I got an e-mail.”

He curses, his voice muffled from the towel pressed against his face. ” You called me to tell me about a mail?”

“Not any mail, Sehun. I was contacted by Jung Hoseok.” You whisper still walking back and forward, Haku following every step of yours. Sehun tries not to pay close attention to you, getting slowly dizzy from all the commotion.

“And something tells me I should know who that is?”

You halt taking a moment to stop yourself from starting a conversation about common knowledge again, it was a sour subject. “He messaged through the mail used for Meraki.”

This time Sehun is quite for a few seconds taking in your words. You don’t see him, but you can hear deodorant spray and shuffle of clothes. “How? Isn’t that private?”

“Yes.”

And suddenly the anxious feeling was back. The poems you wrote there were strictly private, the mention of your love life and your hardships with your family were never meant to be linked back to you. You’ve checked the websites policy not wanting anyone to associate you with the account. If that were to happen you can immediately start packing your things to move to another continent.

“I am sure he didn’t hack it; nobody is that desperate. Maybe he contacted the website owner?” Sehun takes his phone, hair freshly washed strands falling over his face. He moves from the bathroom to the kitchen placing you carefully , so you could see the whole room.

You think for a second, there was a possibility. “Isn’t that a violation of my privacy?”

“I can try to read out the rights and policy. Come up with a text signed as your lawyer but Y/N” Sehun’s voice is soft, something he did to calm you down. He stood in the middle of the kitchen, eyes having an internal battle, the look you’ve seen on him in rare moments.

“Yes?”

“I am sure if you refuse, he won’t bother you. I am also sure you don’t have much to lose if you agree.”

                                                         ____

Hoseok was on his fifth coffee by noon, deprived of any sleep last night.  He was starved for a good literature piece that would leave him in myriad emotions. Sadly, he came up with an empty line. He spent his days cocooned in the corner of Suho’s café reading page by page poetry that awoke no emotion except irritation. He was on the brink of losing his mind.

Suho slides into the booth, careful not to startle Hoseok.” Have you found anything?”

Hoseok ruffles his hair before resting his head in his hands. He was desperate enough to visit fanfiction sites in hopes of stumbling upon work that had  the spark.

“Maybe you should take a break? Visit those open mic nights where people recite their poems?”

Hoseok shakes his head having already used that option last week. “I’ve been to three mic nights and not one was interesting. I am on a verge leaving everything behind to become a stripper. Yoongi did say I have an amazing body."

Sehun by now used to his friend’s dramatic antics shrugs his shoulder.” You should really take a break. You’ve been searching for a month now.”

Hoseok wished he could take a break, but the existence of his firm lay in his hands. That enough gave him tremendous worry pushing him way above his limits.

“I know but if I don’t find a good piece in a month, I can close the firm. Do you know what that means? Hundreds of people losing their job.” Hoseok wasn’t the one to crumble under pressure but now he felt like crying. Suho offered him a smile he’s seen before, the pity smile. Patting his shoulder he gets up at the sound of doors opening ,customers swarming in.

At the end of the day Hoseok thinks everything has turned against him. His laptop dies in the middle of reading, and he discovers he forgot his charger at home. In all the despair and anger he accidentally knocks over the mug spilling coffee over important documents and his newly bought jeans. The stain will probably leave a small burn that he wasn’t ready to face today. He’ll take care of it tomorrow.

On the side Suho observes his restless friend. He felt bad for not being able to help him more, but he already used all his resources and sent them anonymously to his mail only for Hoseok to turn it down.

Sehun walks into the café with his gym in one hand and candy in the other, drops of sweat forming on his forehead. He was waiting for a call from Y/N, prepared to jump into his car at any second. He greets Suho, his sight landing on an exhausted Hoseok bumping his head repeatedly against the table lightly. He hoped to never reach this point of insanity. 

“What’s his problem?”

Suho follows Sehun’s line of sight. Hoseok sits in the booth, forehead rested against the table. Both his mind and body were tired, and the clock was ticking. “He needs to find a good poetry piece to publish otherwise he’s toast.”

In that moment Sehun weights his options. He knew how self-conscious you were about your work thinking it lacked emotion and quality and this seemed like a good opportunity to prove you otherwise. On the other hand, there was the issue with people closely linked with your poems. He takes his time picking between different sugars, steering the coffee slow enough to buy him at least one more minute.

Pushing the bills to Suho he takes a sip. “There is a website called Nora, it had lots of good poetry. I've read some.”

Suho nods following Sehun out of the café promising to deliver the message to Hoseok. Once locked up he slides back into the booth watching Hoseok pack his belongings ready to call it a day. “This costumer told me about Nora site. You should give a shot.”

“Nora?” Hoseok mocks, he heard of all the websites used for writing but Nora didn’t ring a bell.

“I think it’s new. I’ve never heard of it but he seemed sure of his words. The worst that can happen is he lied and knowing Sehun that’s unlikely.”

Hoseok nods eager to go back home to his cat Nobus and prepare himself a warm bath to release the tension built up in his muscles. Waving goodbye to Sehun, he exits the shop from the back door and turns on the engine of his car driving away to the beat of classical music easing him.

Entering his small apartment located in the centre of Seoul, he throws his shoes to the side not bothering for order tonight. Slouching himself on the couch he pets Nobus, the cat bumping his head against his arm purring softly. With eyelids half closed he opens the website on his phone, picking poetry as his preferred category.

Selecting a random writer he opens the first poem, eyes scanning the text.

 I love you             like the habit I picked up in college                  of sleeping through lectures                  or saying I’m sorry                  when I get stopped for speeding             because I drink a glass of water                  in the morning                  and chain-smoke cigarettes                  all through the day             because I take my coffee Black                  and my milk with chocolate             because you keep my feet warm                  though my life a mess I love you             because deep down I know                  you'll never be mine again   (author of the poem: Nikki Giovanni, I added three last sentences)*

With every word that Hoseok took in he felt himself back in university, all drunk on the idea of loving the girl that sat two seats in front of him during microeconomics. He relives the ecstasy of having love running through his veins, he feels the desire under his fingertips for just one touch, he crumbles at the pain of finding her kissing his best friend. Hoseok feels like his heart had been ripped apart with just few simple letters placed in a neat poem.

He sees the words meraki scribbled in a messy handwriting under the poem and he feels as if his prayers have been answered.

[jeonggukingdom]

splinters of love • day XXV [jhs]

pairing  ⟶ jung hoseok x fem!Reader

summary  ⟶ a collection of drabbles (one for each day of April) based on prompts by an online prompts’ generator site. Specifically  ⟶  • day XXV ↳ in which Hoseok speaks the word you never wanted to hear coming from his mouth. Goodbye.

genre  ⟶ pure heart-wrenching angst

rating  ⟶  PG-17

word count ⟶ 1.511 words

warnings  ⟶ heavy break up, depressing thoughts, pretty dramatic, a lot of metaphors to describe the pain better... wouldn’t read if you’re already in a sad mood, ngl

series masterlist  ⟶ here  (links on mobile may not work, if you’re looking for all the works in this series, you can click on the “!splintersoflove” tag and you’ll find them all there!)

His lips are tight in a thin line, his eyes are red and swollen and pain-stricken but most of all empty and the sight of them, of him and the defeated stance of his body makes you absolutely nauseous.

You are the cause of all of this and the sense of guilt is so heavy on your heart you can feel it crushing right in the middle of your chest, squeezed so tight it might stop at any given moment now.

Two days have passed since you last saw Hoseok.

You had a fight, one of many others in the past few months and he had left you, banged the door behind his back and didn’t return for full forty-eight hours, twenty minutes and eleven seconds. Yes, you counted them.

You tried to call him, tried to text him, hell, you called his friends even and only when Yoongi reassured you he was ok, that he was with him, it felt like air could pass again through your lungs.

But of course, his distance and his silence didn’t quench the ache you were feeling, the torment that had your nails beaten to the bone, your lips cracked under the forceful vice of your teeth, your hair tangled by the fingers tugging on them.

You were desperate. And afraid.

That fear that had you paralyzed for those two days doesn’t seem so misplaced now as you stare up at him.

Still, you are hopeful that you can fix this, fix it like you always do and go back to normal because there aren’t many things you know in your life but one of those is that you two love each other.

Hoseok’s eyes though are fixed on anything but you and the longer he stays like this, in perfect silence, the more you feel your heart sink between your lungs.

“Say something,” you beg him then, voice weak and trembling with all the anxiousness, the regret and the fear laced right between those two words.

Still, they are enough to make him jump, take a step back away from you as if you just pointed a gun to his heart and threatened to fire it.

You call his name softly, dare a few steps towards him until your hands can reach his and you really try to hide the hurt in your eyes as he recoils from your touch, shakes his head and closes in himself more concealing every little piece of him away from your sight.

It’s a defensive mechanism, you suppose, to keep himself standing and alive. The most important parts of him, the ridges of his heart and the niches of his soul you were so acquainted with, they are now tucked away, secured behind walls you cannot access or break through.

“I think we should break up.”

The first words he speaks to you after two days are those and you stare at him in shock for so long he is forced to shift his gaze from the ground up to your face.

You are crying. You are not even aware of it until the taste of salt fills your mouth.

“You don’t mean that,” you pathetically whimper in response and he grimaces at your words, shifts his gaze away from you once more, fixes it right behind your back on the emptiness of your apartment.

“We do nothing but fight, _______. I can’t take it anymore.”

You shake your head, try to gulp down the sobs and despair but you do a very poor job at it because your thoughts are too jumbled for you to function properly, for you to control your emotions.

Your entire world is breaking apart and you don’t know how to fix it. There must be a way to fix it, right?

“I love you, Hoseok,” your voice trembles alongside your bottom lip and a heavy sigh leaves his parted lips.

There are tears streaming down his face too now and you hate the sight of them, hate the fact that you are the one that put them there in the first place.

“I love you too, _______.”

You do not let him finish. The moment those words are out of his mouth you rush to him, put your hands on his face, pull him towards you to desperately kiss his lips but he recoils from your touch again, pushes your hands away as if you scorched him, takes a few steps back away from you so that he can breathe again.

The rift between you two seems to be getting bigger and bigger and the wider it gets, the more it feels impossible to abridge.

“Then why, Hoseok, why are you leaving me?”

You search his eyes, search for a coherent explanation as to why all of this is happening when you are still madly in love with each other, so much so it pains you to even think about not seeing each other again.

“Because sometimes love is not enough.”

Your heart breaks and you could swear he can hear it because his head snaps your way, his eyes turn big as he looks at you with guilt shining in his eyes.

Or maybe it’s the scream that left your mouth that did it as you hugged yourself as if to keep all of you intact before you physically break too and get scattered across the floor in tiny little pieces.

“We can’t keep going like this. We keep hurting each other and I’m tired, I’m so fucking tired. I don’t want to end up hating you, _______. I want to remember all the good times we had together, all our beautiful memories and not taint them with all the fights, the hurtful words… I love you, so much so I’m willing to let you go for your sake and mine.”

He says all of this through heavy breaths, with tears rolling down his cheeks, with trembling lips and hands balled into fists.

You understand him, you could even agree to all of that but you cannot accept it and you know you won’t in a few days, in a few months or even in a few years.

Hoseok is your one and only and you knew that from the very start. Hoseok was endgame, the man you were supposed to marry, have kids with and get old with but now that future is being ripped away from you and no matter how hard you try to cling to it, it still turns to dust between your fingers and slowly disappears.

You want to beg him for another chance, grasp his shirt so hard he simply won’t be able to leave you but you don’t for the very same reason he is letting you go.

You love him so much you are ready to give yourself up for him. All that you have ever been, all that you will ever be, it’s all his but only if it makes him happy.

Hoseok is not happy. He is not happy today just like he wasn’t happy two days ago or a week ago and maybe even a month ago.

So you stay silent, cry before him while gulping down all the words you wish to say to him. You choke on them, gag on them, suffocate on them but you do not speak them.

“Goodbye.”

It’s the last word you’d ever want to hear from him but it still leaves his mouth with a pained whisper and you hate yourself a little for letting him go like this, for not even daring to look at his face before he turns around and disappears behind that door once again, this time forever.

The moment the door clicks back in its hinges you fall on your knees.

You cry and scream and fist your hair until you are sure some locks will remain tangled between your fingers.

You a die a little on this very floor, give up a part of you that truly belonged to him and it takes you hours to rise from the ground to seek the comfort of your bed and the covers. They still smell a little like him on the side of his bed, just like the sweater draped around your body as you stare at a picture of you on the bedside table.

Your heart breaks a little bit more when you think about him coming to the apartment again just to get his things and completely disappear from your life without leaving any trace except for the memories you shared together.

You fall asleep whimpering his name, you wake up with the sound of it still on your lips and you go through your life as best as you can while your heart keeps screaming it over and over again where nobody can hear it.

Hoseok. Hoseok. Hoseok.

No matter how much you call for him, he does not come back and with each passing day, that shrivel of hope you had gets tinier and tinier until it disappears leaving you completely hollow.

Copyright © 2020 by jeonggukingdom. All rights reserved. Do not repost, do not steal, do not translate without consent.

[thebiasrekkers]

Amaryllis: The Past || JHS

For the @bangtanscenery​ - April Showers Bring May Flowers Project in celebration of the Spring Season!

Plot: The year is 1170 AD in the kingdom of Goryeo. Nestled in a quiet corner of their world, two people are drawn together and love blossoms in their hearts. However, as tensions begin to rise between their nations, they are unwillingly pulled into the conflict. Their determination to overcome all odds becomes the nail needed for Fate to hammer into their coffins.

Rating: PG-13 // SFW

Genre: historical!au | period!au | soulmate!au | angst | romance | drama | tragedy

Pairing: Jung Hoseok x Female OC (Bayaraa Ehri)

Warnings: Mild language, extreme angst, major character deaths

Links: FAQ || BTS Masterlist || Admin E’s AO3 || [ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ]

Word Count: 13.4K

AN: Guys, when I tell you that I wasn't ready for this to be as big of a monster as I thought it would be, I was not prepared. At all. Period. This is the first Period/Historical!AU I've written in a while and definitely a first for BTS. I've always been a sucker for reincarnation stories and so laying the groundwork for this made me really happy. This is a tragic love story, but I promise that it will be better in the second part I plan on releasing next month! Enjoy and remember that you are loved!

© thebiasrekkers (Admin E). All rights reserved. Reposting/modifying our work is prohibited. Translations are not allowed. Plagiarism/stealing is not tolerated by any means. Legal action will be taken in instances of theft.

Goryeo Kingdom 1170 AD

The noise of the marketplace seemed to erupt in mixed sounds of pleasantries and laughter. There was a constant tone flitting in and out; the sound of laughter and of so many market vendors talking at once. They were all trying to get people to look at their wares, to purchase them and make new deals. Hoseok smiled as he strolled through the streets, dodging oncoming children squealing in delight as they ran past the adults. The silk fabric of his robs clung to his figure, his lute bouncing lightly across his back and his satchel hung from his side.

To others, he appeared as nothing more than a traveling minstrel. But the truth of the matter was that he came from an upstanding noble family that was directly connected to the royal bloodline in the Goryeo Kingdom. He didn't like to make a fuss about it and neither did his brothers. Their father was blessed to have seven sons and Hoseok was the third-born son, granting him a little bit more freedom than his two older brothers. He had less responsibilities.

Hence why he was strolling around in the general public in his incognito garbs, masquerading as a traveling performing artist and poet.

"Sir," called a vendor, attempting to garner Hoseok's attention, "you look like a man who believes in good fortune!"

Hoseok paused, craning his neck to look at the man who had a variety of items spread out over his table. Nothing seemed to stick out and he wondered what any of his items had to do with good fortune. Just as he was about to ask, the man reached behind the table and lifted up a small, lacquered box from underneath. The design was exquisite, boasting a unique hand-craftsmanship with the various floral patterns cut from Mother of Pearl shells. Hoseok raised his brows, curious to see what could be inside of such a lovely chest.

When the man opened the box, he revealed a flower forged in metal. It sat on a cushion of black satin, but the flower itself almost seemed to gleam in the afternoon sunlight. It's stem was long, the leaves taking on a soft shine as it curled around the base of the flower. At the top, the petals were long and spindly, resembling a spider lily.

No. It was a spider lily.

Some artisan actually forged a spider lily.

Hoseok's lips parted as he reached his hand toward the flower. "It's beautiful," he whispered. But just before his fingers could brush against the metallic leaves, the vendor quickly closed the lid of the box, causing a frown to form on Hoseok's face. "How much?"

The market vendor was unable to hide his amusement as he waggled a finger at him. "Now now, My Lord, I must insist that you listen to the good fortune that comes with purchasing this flower. The artist who made this said the explanation is a must to anyone who wishes to have this flower in their possession."

Sighing, Hoseok brushed some of his bangs out of his eyes and folded his arms across his chest. "Very well. Go ahead."

The vendor smiled, clapped his hands together rapidly, and then slowly opened the box to reveal the flower. "Do you know the legend behind the Spider Lily, My Lord?"

Smothering down his own amusement, Hoseok shook his head. Of course he knew the legend of the Spider Lily. It was a tale forged in sorrow about two lovers who neglected their duties to watch over the petals and leaves. The Gods punished them and they promised to find one another again in the Underworld. However, they were unable to do so, hence they could not be reunited in the next life when they were reincarnated.

"I find it hard to believe that you don't," teased the vendor, which caused Hoseok to cant his head slightly, "but let's just say that this flower isn't an ordinary spider lily. The one who forged this flower said that the tragedy still exists inside, just as the legend dictates. But unlike Manju and Saka, the one who holds this flower will be able to reunite with their loved one in the next life. Guaranteed."

Hoseok couldn't help the scoff that escaped his lips. "How can the artisan possibly guarantee something like that? Was it the Jade Emperor who forged this flower? Is he an ethereal being who is going to be able to follow my spirit into the Underworld and ensure that I do not drink from the Spring of Forgetfulness so that I can, in fact, remember the face of the one I love in my next life?"

The vendor appeared perturbed by the onslaught of questions being thrown at him. But he seemed to collect himself well enough to puff his chest out and cleared his throat loudly. "W-Well, I'm just relaying the words to you as the artisan wished. If you do not want to purchase this rare item, then I will simply put it away."

As the man moved to close the box, Hoseok reached out to place his hand over the vendor's. He hesitated and Hoseok smiled warmly at him. "I apologize. I did not mean to offend, Good Sir. I'm a skeptic by nature, I'm afraid, and I let my lips run away before I could catch them." Again, the vendor cleared his throat, but he seemed less offended than earlier. "Regardless of the artisan's intent, this flower truly is beautiful. The story behind the spider lily is a sad one, but looking at this, I can tell they created this from love."

He could practically feel the vendor beaming at him. "Would you like to purchase it, My Lord?"

Hoseok smiled, reaching into his coin purse, and pulled out three gold coins. "Will this be enough?"

The vendor gasped. "T-That's more than the artisan asked for!"

Grinning, he pulled out another coin to add to the three. "Then I insist that you give him two and you keep the other two for your troubles."

Taking the coins from him, the vendor wasted no time wrapping the lacquered box up in a silk cloth. The vendor hurriedly handed the wrapped item to Hoseok, beaming wildly at the amazing exchange he’d just made. Hoseok wasn’t sure why he seemed so happy since he didn’t regret handing off the gold.

He only hoped that the vendor was honest and didn’t keep all four coins for himself.

“Lad-I mean, L-Lord Ehri!” A young attendant ran with her skirts hiked up as far as she could manage as she tore through the busy market streets. “My Lord, please wait!”

Erhi evaded her attendant, doing her best to smother her feminine sounding laugh as she hurried through the crowd. She was dressed in her incognito outfit, a young male warrior specifically. It was mostly so she could maneuver without any people questioning her reason for being there as a foreigner. Her father, a noble and wealthy merchant from the Mongols, was currently on a business venture in Goryeo. While her older sisters were obediently at his side, learning the proper etiquette for business, Erhi was left to her own devices.

For better or worse, she was allowed to roam the city streets of the kingdom so long as her attendant was with her and she stayed out of trouble. Erhi agreed to her father’s demands, but only to his face. She was positive that her parents knew of her outlandish behavior that strayed far from the proper lady fashion, but because she was the youngest, she was able to get away with it to a degree.

Her father was a businessman, after all. If she wanted to do something, there had to be a give and take deal. She was allowed to learn swordsmanship as long as she studied sewing. She could ride a horse if she practiced dancing. And she could train with the merchant troupe’s regiment if she could brew a proper pot of tea and serve it just as eloquently.

In that aspect, Erhi liked to think she was better off than her sisters. But mostly because they, themselves, had no interest in the things men liked to do. Especially since both were already promised to suitors. Erhi was too gruff to appeal to any male in her father’s circles and she preferred it that way.

Hence the reason she was running through the streets of a foreign city like a child.

She did her best to dodge the innocent bystanders on the street, twirling on her heels to avoid colliding into them needlessly. However, she hadn’t anticipated a group of children squealing through the crowd simultaneously. Ehri jumped suddenly, fully clearing the children as they stopped to stare off at the tails of her robes fluttering behind her. Focused on their awestruck faces, she failed to pay attention to what was ahead of her.

And what was in front of her was an unsuspecting young man carrying something wrapped in silk in his arms. She only managed to catch a glimpse of his surprised face and the lute strapped to his back before their bodies collided against one another; hard. There was a distinct crunch sound that seemed to reverberate throughout her entire body as the wind was knocked from her lungs. Coughing out the dirt that managed to spray up from the ground and into her nose, she heard the man groaning from underneath her. 

Gasping, Erhi quickly scrambled off the man and saw his face screwed up in pain. She immediately reached out for him, her hands grasping at his shoulders to help him sit up. “I’m so sorry,” she said, dusting off his silk robes, “I should have been paying attention, Naeuri.”

The young man grunted, coughing as he attempted to straighten the front of his robe. “It's fine. No harm done.” He extended his arms and shook the sleeves of his garbs back and forth while smiling. “See?”

Erhi flushed, embarrassed she’d lost her sense of awareness for even a moment and caused an innocent bystander to be caught up in her mess. She got to her feet, helping him up to where he continued to pat off the dirt from his clothes. Just as she was about to ask if he was alright, the true shame in her actions began to set in. Because there, at their feet, was what remained of his lute. Even the silken cloth wrapped around his parcel came loose, tilting sadly to showcase that whatever was inside was damaged as well. 

Suddenly, her attendant burst through the crowd looking haggard and annoyed. When she finally flattened her skirts down, she met Erhi’s gaze and stopped short before her rant could even start. Erhi quickly shook her head back and forth, silently urging her to pretend that she didn’t know her. Her attendant sighed, approaching the both of them as though she were a curious civilian wanting to make sure the two of them were alright.

“You’re both not hurt, are you, My Lords?” 

Erhi inwardly sighed with relief, gesturing to the young man at her side. “I’m fine.” She turned to look at the stranger. “I believe I’ve damaged your belongings. Please allow me to make amends by paying you for what the items were worth.”

The man smiled, shaking his head as he waved his hands back and forth. “Oh no, that’s not necessary. Truly.” He peered at Ehri closely, causing her to flush slightly. “Are you sure you’re not hurt?”

She bowed, her hair falling to curtain her face. “Yes, thank you.”

Erhi watched the man pick up his broken lute and ruined parcel. But he seemed unaffected by it. This made the guilt fall heavier on her heart and just as she was about to insist that she be allowed to make amends, he stepped toward her. They were just inches away from each other, causing her to gasp slightly while taking a step backward. 

“Shall we have a cup of tea to commemorate this occasion?”

Blinking rapidly at him, the young man smiled almost mischievously at Ehri. Then he leaned forward, his lips just barely brushing up against the shell of her ear.

“I would offer to share a drink, but inviting a woman to indulge in alcohol in the middle of the day  would seem a bit presumptuous and rude, yes?”

If Ehri was flushing a soft pink earlier, she was a full blown shade of scarlet at that exact moment. Craning her neck to look at him, she felt her lips parting in both shock and outrage as he continued to preen at her. When had he been able to see through her disguise? How could he have discovered the truth in such a short amount of time.

The snap of a fan brought her out of her internal reverie and she hopped back a full two feet from him as he slowly moved the fan back and forth across his body. He wasn’t being smug about it. She could tell that he was genuinely amused. And this, alone, piqued her curiosity.

Frowning, she huffed before giving an overly dramatic flourish of her arm as she stepped to the side. “After you, Naeuri,” she said through clenched teeth, “I insist.”

The playful twinkle never left his eyes and he merely strolled past her, snapping the fan closed as he pointed toward the direction straight ahead. “Come. We have much to discuss.”

Ehri caught her attendant’s eye and they both sighed in defeat, their legs feeling much heavier than they had just a few minutes ago.

This was problematic.

“I see,” Hoseok said in mid-sip, “so you’re from Mongolia.” He nodded, watching the two women seated across from him shifting uncomfortably in front of him. “That’s very interesting!”

The woman frowned as she sipped her tea while her attendant nervously cradled the porcelain between her fingers. Hoseok did his best to keep from bursting into small fits of laughter, but it was a very trying task. Especially since the woman who collided into him seemed hellbent on trying to find every opportunity to escape from his sight. 

Like he’d let that happen.

“I must admit, you caught me by surprise.” He smiled as her brows furrowed. “To think a young woman could tear through the streets in such a fashion. Normally it’s young boys with that sort of amount of energy.”

The woman huffed, folding her arms across her chest in defiance. “Why is that so surprising? I heard the women of Goryeo have just as much freedom as the men do.”

He nodded, lifting the cup of tea to his face. “Yes, they do. Which is why they don’t have to disguise themselves as men as you have.” She scoffed, her eyes shifting to meet his own as they widened slightly. “Do Mongolian women not have such free reign?”

“That’s not--!”

Hoseok leaned forward, intrigued and unable to hide his own curiosity. He knew he probably looked like a starry-eyed little boy, but he couldn’t hold back his fascination. As a member of the royal household’s branch family, Hoseok had little chances to interact with other foreigners unless he snuck away from home in the same way this young woman did. In a sense, they were both having similar experiences but for very different reasons.

“I heard that Mongolian children are able to ride horses before they even learn how to walk! Is that true?” She just stared at him, blinking every so often, and he leaned back quickly as while shaking his head back and forth. “Oh my, I’ve been so rude! Please forgive me. I never even introduced myself.” Hoseok bowed his head slightly. “My name is Hoseok. And you?”

There was a small measure of silence that stretched between them before she lifted her own teacup to her lips. 

“Ehri.”

“Ah,” he said, leaning back a bit, “Ehri-ssi.”

Hoseok watched her sip from her cup. He took note of how delicate her hands appeared. As she set it down, he focused back on her face. Their eyes stayed trained on each other before Ehri shifted her gaze to his belongings that were beside him on the bench. 

“I was serious about repaying you for your things, Hoseok Naeuri.”

He laughed. “That’s not necessary. My lute has seen better days, of course, but I was already planning on buying a new one.”

She lofted a single brow. “And your other item?”

“Not to worry. Only the box was ruined, but not completely. The item inside is perfectly fine.”

He visibly saw her shoulders relax, as well as her attendant’s. 

“How did you know?”

Hoseok was about to indulge in one of the sweet rice cakes when he stopped, his hand hovering over the plate. “Hm? Know what?”

"That I wasn’t a man.”

Her tone was so flat that it caused him to sputter a chuckle unintentionally.

He picked up one of the soft rice cakes while shrugging one shoulder. “Well, it wasn’t hard considering you fell on top of me chest first.” Hoseok watched her nose crinkle up and he bit his lip, smothering a grin from breaking out over his features. “And the fact that your attendant is a woman and a terrible actress.”

Ehri’s attendant groaned in defeat while she, in turn, merely huffed her annoyance. Hoseok was amused with how expressive she was. It was charming in a way. Not many women, even in Goryeo, openly wore their feelings on their sleeves as she did. Even though she was traveling incognito with her attendant, she had no problem expressing her emotions freely. 

He found himself drawn to her level of freedom.

“How long will your family be in Goryeo?” he asked, biting into the rice cake and savoring the sweet red bean jam inside.

She picked up a rice cake, offering it to her attendant first. “Until my father’s business deals are finished.”

“Does it usually take a long time?”

“No, not usually,” Ehri said as she began pouring herself more tea, “but because it’s Goryeo, he tends to make time to stay and enjoy the scenery. I’m sure we will be here a month or so, at the very least.”

“I see.” Hoseok slapped his hands on the table and leaned forward, causing the two women to jump suddenly. “Then we should see each other again!”

“W-What?” Erhi balked, leaning backward as he continued to press his body almost completely across the table. “What do you mean?”

“It's not often you get to come to Goryeo, yes?” Hoseok watched her nod slowly, waiting for him to continue. “Then allow me to show you all the great things this country has to offer! In exchange, you have to share all the wonderful stories of your homeland.”

She seemed skeptical. “Just stories?”

Hoseok nodded excitedly. “Yes, until I am able to travel to Mongolia myself and then you’ll have to take care of me while I’m there.” He extended his hand out to her. “Do we have a deal?”

Ehri appeared to be considering his offer. There was nothing for her to lose. She only had things to gain and he, too, would obtain something as well.

Maybe he would be able to have a friend who didn’t care about his connection to the royal family.

Sighing, she reached across the table to clasp her hand in his. Ehri smiled and Hoseok felt his heart skip a full beat in his chest. “Deal.”

The days bled into weeks. Before Ehri even realized it, nearly a month had passed. With each passing day, Hoseok was true to his word. They agreed to meet near the edge of the capital city where the rolling hills, forests, and meadows were located. Her attendant rode beside them and they let their horses graze in the fields. 

Hoseok shared wondrous stories of Goryeo’s history, art, and architecture. Being a Mongol, all Ehri knew were wide open plains, valleys, mountains, rivers and deserts. There were very few forests in her homeland and the flowers were even fewer, so these stories fascinated her. Hoseok had an attendant, just as Ehri, but he rarely accompanied him as often as hers did. If he were part of some aristocratic family, she couldn’t imagine him being able to wander about without an escort at all times.

But maybe she was reading too much into it.

In time, she truly got to know the man named Hoseok. Neither of them revealed their family names, which was probably for the best. There was no guarantee that they would see each other after her family returned home to Mongolia. But the few things she did discover were like small treasures she kept to herself.

His favorite colors were silver, white and cobalt. From what she was able to glean, it had something to do with being able to gain a sense of individualism among his other brothers in their household. He rarely wore his hair down, preferring to have it pulled up in a high ponytail, though he could do nothing with the fringe that often fell across his forehead.

Hoseok had a seemingly bottomless sweet tooth; his preference for rice cakes filled with some kind of sweet jam. He loved foreign goods and would always take time to see any traveling street performances during festival times. Poetry and philosophy were his preferred subjects, but he did excel in mathematics and history. 

Her attendant started to doze off as she sat under the shade of a nearby dogwood tree. The white petals fluttered through the air from the soft breeze that flew through the field. A quiet melody emanated from Hoseok’s lute as he strummed his fingers over the strings. Ehri was nestled in a bed of flowers, her legs curled up to her chest as she listened to the music. She couldn’t help the smile that pulled at her lips while watching him. His eyes were closed and every so often, some of his dark hair would fly over the bridge of his nose as he played.

To Ehri, he was unnecessarily handsome.

“Are you tired, Agassi?”

Blinking rapidly, Ehri lifted her head up from her knees. When she did, she saw that Hoseok was extremely close to her. Her lips parted and she leaned back quickly, gasping a little as he blinked curiously at her. 

“W-What?” she stammered out, feeling the heat rushing up her neck and spreading over her cheeks. “What’s the matter?”

He was crouched down on the ground, his elbows resting on his knees. But he didn’t move any closer to her, to which she was secretly grateful. “I was asking if you were tired.”

“Oh,” Ehri murmured, brushing some of her hair out of her face, “I’m fine.”

She leaned her head back as he stood up and dusted off the backs of his robes. Once finished, he reached a hand out to her. Not wanting to appear frail, Ehri gathered herself up and also knocked some grass and leaves off her clothes. Hoseok smiled as he gestured for her to follow him. Glancing to where her attendant was now fully asleep with the horses nearby, she shook her head and followed behind Hoseok as they moved deeper into the forest. 

When they entered a nearby clearing, Ehri paused while Hoseok continued to walk ahead of her. The vision that was in front of her caused her to pull a slow intake of breath. The field was littered with spindly, vibrant red flowers that seemed to stretch for as far as the eye could see. There was a sense of melancholy that nearly overwhelmed Ehri as she stared at the flowers, but she couldn’t understand why she felt that way.

“Have you ever heard of the legend of the Spider Lily?”

Hoseok’s words cut through her reverie and she lifted her gaze to meet his own. He was standing in the middle of the flowers, imploring for her to come closer. Ehri took slow, measured steps toward him, unable to take her eyes away from the flowers as she approached. When she was within arms’ reach of him, her attention was ripped from the red field as she felt Hoseok’s hands gripping onto her wrists. With a jerk of his arms, she was pulled forward and nearly bumped into his body, to which she was stopped short; his hands now gripping her shoulders.

“N-Naeuri?” 

“The Spider Lily legend,” he repeated slowly, tilting his chin down to look at her, “have you heard of it?”

Ehri wasn’t sure what to say so all she did was shake her head. Even though Hoseok smiled, there was an intensity in his eyes that pulled at her curiosity. So focused on his face, she failed to realize that his hands moved from her shoulders and down to her hips. Again, she chose to wear her incognito robes, which meant that every touch was that much closer to her body than it would have been had she decided to don her proper feminine attire. 

Straining her ears, Ehri waited for him to continue and hoped she could hear him over the heavy thud of her own heartbeat. 

After looking down at her for what felt like an uncomfortable amount of time, Hoseok craned his neck to look at their surroundings. Ehri did the same. 

“There was once a pair of fae, Manju and Saka, who were given the responsibility of guarding the leaves and petals of the Spider Lily. If the petals blossomed to their fullest, the leaves would die. If the leaves flourished, the petals would wilt. For a time, they were diligent in their duties.” Something flickered in Hoseok’s eyes, but she couldn’t quite tell since she could only see part of his profile. “The affection they had for one another continued to grow, until they could no longer deny their feelings for each other. They decided to meet, forsaking their duties, and both the petals and leaves began to die. The Gods punished the lovers by placing a curse on them, stating that the flowers and leaves will never be able to meet again.”

Ehri lowered her gaze to the red blossoms, wanting to reach out and caress the petals but knowing that the leaves deserved attention as well. Upon closer inspection, she could see the leaves were so far below the flowers, melding with the grass at their feet and almost disappearing. The stem was long, keeping the petals and leaves as far apart from each other as was possible for the flower.

“To make matters worse, the curse extends beyond death.”

She turned to face Hoseok who was now looking back at her. “What do you mean?”

He furrowed his brows slightly. “The two of them promised they would reunite in the Underworld so when they were reborn, they would be able to find each other again. But they were never able to meet and, as such, they were unable to be together upon reincarnation.”

Something painful throbbed inside of Ehri’s chest, causing her to curl her hand into a fist against the fabric of her robes. “That’s...that’s so sad.”

“It is.” When Ehri met Hoseok’s gaze, she could see a hint of a smile on his face. “Well, if you believe in the concept of rebirth.”

“I do.” She sighed, moving her upper body away from him a bit. “I don’t believe that the gods are so cruel to give us a short amount of time to live only to allow us to experience one life. The souls of our ancestors live within us.”

For a moment, all Ehri could do was stare up at Hoseok with what she hoped was a look of absolute determination. He didn’t give anything away. Not a single thing.

Which was what made the kiss he pulled her into all the more surprising. Her hands immediately moved to press against his chest, intent on pushing him away; at least at first. But the warmth of his hands as he clasped at the nape of her neck and how hard his heart seemed to be beating against his chest, made her own initial anxieties melt away. He was nothing but a complete gentleman all that time, and in truth, it tugged at the softer side of her normally wild nature. The more Ehri got to know him, a being so full of buried melancholy, the more drawn to him she felt.

When had it happened? When did she feel her heart starting to gravitate toward him?

When had he?

Delicate nips pulled at her lips, causing Ehri to release a soft sigh from her lungs. It was like Hoseok was attempting to pull her soul straight from her and, if it were possible, she would have given it over willingly. Her body shifted a little more against him and she wasn’t sure how much more of his affections she could handle. 

It became more apparent when tears unknowingly leaked from her eyes.

Hoseok’s lips left her own and a part of Ehri mourned for his absence. She didn’t realize the moment she’d pressed herself fully against him, but it made it that much harder to breathe. Or was it because he’d successfully pulled all the air from her lungs, leaving her breathless and yearning for more?

“Do you have to go?” The strain in his voice was clear, needling into her heart as he began drying her tears from her face. “I don’t want you to go.”

Ehri bit her lower lip, unable to break his gaze. “I have to,” she whispered, “my family…”

Suddenly, Hoseok pulled her against him, his arms wrapping around her as he cradled the back of her head in a passionate embrace. Clouds slowly rolled in, covering the sun and momentarily shrouding them in desaturated light. Ehri felt his body trembling against her, which made her heart thud harder against her chest to the point that it hurt to breathe. 

“Promise you’ll write to me,” he said into her temple.

Reaching up, she curled her fingers into fists along his back, nodding her head emphatically. “I will.”

Hoseok held her tighter, causing her to sob slightly. “Promise you won’t forget me.”

Again, she nodded, unable to keep the tears from spilling. “I won’t.”

Slowly, he pulled back and captured her lips again. Ehri could feel her heart sing with the emotion that pushed from each of them. He held her like she was the greatest treasure he’d discovered. But they both knew that they would have to part. It would only be for a little while. Their worlds weren’t so far apart. They could see each other again.

That was their hope.

That was their dream.

“Hoseok-ah! What are you doing?”

He ignored the question tinged with outrage as he continued to pack his belongings. He took care to make sure one parcel, in particular, was stowed away where it could not be damaged. He didn’t need much. Whatever he did need, he could simply purchase along the way. 

His attendant stood quietly in the corner of his room, his own gear packed and slung across his shoulder. Hoseok knew he wouldn’t speak up. It wasn’t his place. He’d already been given his commands to accompany him and that was that.

“I asked you what you are doing, dammit!” He felt his brother, Yoongi, grip onto his shoulder and forcefully spin him around. “Where do you think you’re going?!”

“Mongolia.” He roughly shrugged Yoongi’s hand from him. “Could you please leave? I’m trying to finish packing.”

Yoongi jerked him around and slapped him across the face. The sting of the blow inflamed instantly and he didn’t even bother with covering his cheek with his palm to soothe the ache. Red veins spidered out toward Yoongi’s irises. That’s how Hoseok knew that his brother was angry with him for being so selfish. It was rare for him to be this selfish, but that meant it was more important for him to leave now more than ever. 

“Do you want to get yourself killed, huh?” Yoongi heaved an aggravated sound as he roughly tugged at some of his hair. “Our countries are about to go to war soon!”

“You think I don’t know that, Hyung-nim?! I do!” Hoseok’s vision shook as he tried to tether his anger. He knew he was failing. “I know that, which is why I have to go! Let me go, Hyung-nim!”

His brother’s face went red, then faded to a splotchy sort of peach color. Hoseok knew he’d successfully defused Yoongi’s anger, but it was far from over. If their parents found out, or even the rest of his brothers, Hoseok could guarantee that there would be no escape for him. He would be placed  under house arrest faster than his mind could even begin to process. 

Even so, he had to go. 

He had to find her. He needed to see her again.

The door to his room slid open slowly, revealing his oldest brother, Seokjin, on the other side. Dressed in his crimson and silver robes, he stepped across the threshold and slid the door quietly behind him. His hands were hidden inside the sleeves of his robe, but then he revealed a scroll from within. He held it out to Hoseok as Yoongi approached their older brother.

“Hyung-nim,” Yoongi said while eyeing the scroll, “what is the meaning of this?”

“It’s an official edict from His Majesty on our father’s behalf. Father has taken ill and will not be able to conduct his business trip.” Seokjin craned his neck to look at Hoseok. “This will allow you safe passage across the border.”

Hoseok’s eyes widened. “S-Seokjin Hyung-nim…”

A tender smile graced Seokjin’s full lips. “Father is aware of why you are so adamant on leaving. As are we all.” He lobbed the scroll to his younger brother. Hoseok’s hands trembled as he held the silk scroll in his hands. “We only ask that you return safely.”

Yoongi groaned as he tugged his hair harshly. Grumbling something under his breath, he strode past his brother and slid open the door. “I’ll get the others.”

By others, he meant the rest of their brothers.

“Why?” Hoseok’s eyes lingered on the parchment. “Why is Father allowing this?”

“Contrary to what we all may think, Father understands what it means to be in love.” Seokjin closed the distance between them, placing a hand on Hoseok’s shoulder. “He cares for our happiness more than anyone. Mother also agrees.”

Sucking in air through his teeth, Hoseok shut his eyes in a vain attempt to keep from shedding tears. Months had passed since Ehri left to return home, and the tensions between Goryeo and Mongolia seemed to escalate. There was talk of war in the coming months, if not sooner. While Ehri and Hoseok wrote to each other diligently in that time, it was clear that there was nothing they would be able to do once the conflict officially broke out. There was a good chance that this war would separate them permanently.

He wanted to see her before then. No, he had to.

“If you can convince her to come back with you, then you will be married immediately upon your return.” 

He quickly lifted his face to meet Seokjin’s. “W-What?”

His brother’s gentle smile remained. “Mother and Father have both agreed to this.”

Unable to contain his elation, Hoseok threw himself into Seokjin’s arms. He took comfort in his older brother’s embrace. He felt Seokjin laugh as he patted Hoseok on the head like they were still children and he’d skinned his hands on the stone ground. 

“Be safe, Little Brother.”

Ehri quickly began gathering what few things she could. Mostly practical things, but there were some odds and ends that she collected that would be needed to procure money for her travels. There was no barring her parents from her quarters, but she could at least keep her sisters out of the way as she hurried along. Her attendant was at her wit’s end keeping watch to make sure that no one attempted to stop Ehri from what she was doing. 

Pain exploded across Ehri’s chest and she immediately collapsed to her knees, clutching at her chest as another coughing fit burst forth. She did her best to smother the noise, but it was useless. Her attendant was at her side instantly, handing her a cup of water to drink. She could barely get a few sips in before watery mist sprayed from her mouth due to another coughing outburst. Ehri’s breathing was unsteady, but she tried to pull as much air into her lungs as she could in an attempt to suppress the cough.

“My Lady,” called her attendant as she slowly rubbed circles along her back, “please, you must rest. The physician said so himself.”

Angry tears leaked from her eyes and she swiped them from her face quickly. “There’s no time,” she muttered, “we must leave tonight.”

“Please, My Lady, this is madness.” Her attendant was all but begging, but Ehri was stubborn. “There is no need for such haste. Did Lord Hoseok not say that he would be arriving tomorrow morning? Why must we leave in the middle of the night?”

“Don’t be so foolish!” Ehri snapped, glaring at her faithful attendant. “Do you still not understand the gravity of the situation?”

But she couldn’t expect her to. It was outside of her attendant’s control and her duties. No. This was Ehri’s fight. She had to do it. Because her parents were determined to keep her from the man she so desperately longed for. She’d missed him for him for days - no, for months. And it felt like years mounting between them the longer they were apart. Hoseok said he was coming for her and she had to believe him. She did believe him.

The animosity between their nations be damned. What did that have to do with any of their feelings for each other? Her family told her that Hoseok was the enemy because he was from a soon-to-be enemy nation. But she could never see him as the enemy. Ehri never would. While some would have accused her of lacking filial piety, she also believed that she was living up to the expectations from which she was raised. Give and take. That was how the merchant world operated. There was no such thing as a free meal.

If Fate was going to shorten her time on this earth, then she had every right to obtain happiness to make up for it.

Her attendant sighed heavily, pulling out a thick fur throw and settling it on top of Ehri’s shoulders. A few more coughs escaped, but she appreciated the warmth. The colder season was beginning to settle in and it would only be a matter of time before it was fully upon them.

“Does Lord Hoseok know of your condition, My Lady?”

Ehri shook her head fiercely. “No.” She pointed at her attendant. “And I forbid you from revealing it to him as well.” Ehri sighed, placing a hand to her chest. “It will only cause him to worry.”

Gathering herself up, Ehri reached out for her satchel but her attendant beat her to it. “You’ll have a difficult time carrying that and maintaining your breath. Let me carry this for you, My Lady.” She watched her attendant flash a warm smile to her. “Until we are able to get on the horses at least.”

Ehri gave her a devious smirk. “Very well.”

Hoseok awoke to the first frost of the season already collecting on the grass around the tent. It didn’t take him long to bathe and get dressed, foregoing a proper breakfast. Instead, he nibbled on some cured meat and bread, washing it down with water. His caravan dismantled their camp within minutes and they resumed their journey, having crossed into Mongol territory through the checkpoint yesterday evening. His father’s edict had, in fact, made things easier. But he was worried when the messenger pigeon he’d sent ahead for Ehri had not yet returned.

Did something happen?

No, he thought while shaking his head, I can’t think like that. I’m sure she still has the bird with her. Hoseok felt his chest swelling with the large intake of air he pulled, unable to shake the smile from his face. I will be seeing her soon.

The caravan moved at an even pace. He was so excited to see his beloved. He could still remember what her face looked like when she smiled; like the darkest nights could never hope to douse her radiance. It seemed a little unfair, truth be told, that she could be so captivating. But Hoseok considered himself blessed to know that he could love someone like her; that she loved him in return.

As his horse trotted along, Hoseok reached into his bag and pulled out the refurbished lacquered box. His hand smoothed over the mother of pearl decorations and he lifted the clasp up to open the box. Inside was the beautifully forged spider lily he purchased at what felt like a lifetime ago. He hadn’t known it then, but this was going to be his wedding present to Ehri. But he didn’t want to wait until the wedding. He wanted to be able to give it to her as soon as he saw her. 

A cold wind suddenly blew through the troupe, causing his skin to pepper out in goosebumps. He replaced the box back into his bag, securing the knot on the silken scarf to keep it from falling out. The rest of the group murmured their sentiments in that it was, in fact, cold. Hoseok quickly instructed everyone to put on warmer clothes so that they didn’t get sick. They all complied without hesitation. 

“Naeuri!”

Hoseok turned in the direction where the voice came from. Confusion melted to joy as he saw Ehri urging her horse forward with thunderous gallops, her faithful attendant barely able to keep up. Pulling at the reigns, Hoseok broke away from the caravan and pushed his own mount into a speedy gallop so that he could meet her halfway. As she came into view, Hoseok noticed her cheeks were a bit flushed and he could see the cloudy puffs of air coming from both her and her horse. His smile fell a fraction as he saw her clutching at her chest. 

Was something wrong?

Closer and closer they reached each other, until he saw Ehri standing up from her saddle. Her attendant screamed as both she and Hoseok watched Ehri jump from her horse and into the air. Leaning back, he stared open-mouthed as she flew toward him. A rough grunt was all he could manage as she landed in his arms and his horse protested in annoyance at the sudden added weight. Both of them toppled off the steed in a flurry of legs and arms. Hoseok maneuvered his body so that he was the one to hit the ground first. Again, the wind was knocked from his lungs as Ehri fell on top of him.

For a moment, all they could do was laugh painfully together.

“You know,” Ehri breathed as she sat up to look down at him, her face flushed and full with a smile, “we should really and truly stop meeting like this, don’t you agree?”

He beamed up at her. “Yes, I most certainly do.”

Again, they laughed. Hoseok’s heart was so full he thought it would burst. But the happiness was doused the moment Ehri began coughing. It was a harsh sound, as though she were struggling to breathe. It was cold out and maybe she’d gotten a little too excited. His hand moved up to touch her forehead and he gasped at her burning temperature. 

“Agassi!” he cried out, moving so that he was now sitting up and cradling her to his chest. “What happened? You have a terrible fever!”

Her attendant was at her side, looking flustered and on the verge of tears. “My Lady refuses to listen, that’s what.”

Quickly, she retrieved a folded up piece of paper from her garments and held it to Ehri’s lips. From what Hoseok could gather from the smell, it was some sort of medicine. The powder slid into Ehri’s mouth and she watched her cover her mouth to prevent from coughing it out on impulse. Her attendant pulled out a small canteen and held it to her lips, washing the powder down with water.

Hoseok turned his attention to Ehri’s attendant. “What is going on? I demand an answer!”

Ehri slapped her attendant the moment she opened her mouth to speak. The blow shocked the girl more than it hurt. This must have been the first time she’d ever been struck by Ehri in the entire time they’d been together. It was evident in both of their expressions. The attendant bit her lower lip as tears brimmed her eyes, but she eventually averted her gaze and remained quiet at their sides. 

“Ehri Agassi,” he murmured as she shifted her eyes to look up at him, “why did you--?”

“It’s just a minor affliction,” she said, her voice weak from coughing, “it will pass in time.”

His brows furrowed, but he nodded. Hoseok stood up, hefting Ehri into his arms. Her attendant followed suit as some members of his caravan collected their horses. There was a carriage in their group, to which he was now thankful for. His brothers, Namjoon and Jimin, insisted that he take it with him, regardless of how many times he explained to them that Ehri was a seasoned rider. He could remember the playful expressions on their faces as they explained that she was his bride-to-be and their future in-law. There was no sense in her not to indulge in comfort with this bitter weather coming in.

Hoseok settled her into the carriage, immediately wrapping her up with thick blankets and furs. If it was just a fever, then all she would need to do was sweat it out. She would be back to her old self in no time. Hell, before they returned to Goryeo. 

He was sure of it.

Hours seemed like days. Days moved like weeks.

Ehri felt herself falling in and out of consciousness so many times due to her fever. There were moments where she felt the world blurring around her. Other times, it appeared so clear, sharp and bright; so much so that she had to often squint to see. She hated being cramped in the carriage, but Ehri knew her body well enough to not push for wanting to ride like everyone else did. If she tried, she was almost certain that her condition would worsen.

It would be another week before they reached Goryeo.

I just have to hold on until then, she thought, the last dregs of sleep lifting from her eyes, just a little longer.

Part of Ehri felt terrible for keeping such a big secret from Hoseok. But revealing the truth would only hurt him. He would find a way to blame himself and she didn’t want that. It was simply the tiles that Life felt fit to deal to her. Before leaving her home, Ehri prayed to her ancestors and burned a small offering to the gods. She didn’t ask for much. Only a little more time than what was allotted to her.

She wouldn’t be greedy.

Two days later, she felt a little better. Ehri slid open the small window of the carriage so she could peer out at the world around them. The rolling hills and valleys of her home almost seemed to be bidding her farewell as the leaves browned and fell from the smattering of trees that existed. The hazy clouds sat along the mountain peaks, promising the onset of snow to come. The grass along the plains, once lush and green, were now beige. She would not see them return to their true green hues.

She took her medicine obediently and when they made camp, she apologized to her attendant for striking her. Her friend cried while holding her hands as Ehri lay in bed, too weak to laugh at how terrible her attendant’s face looked from all the crying she’d subjected herself to. After a refreshing bath and warm meal, she felt a little bit better. Hoseok periodically checked on her and was a gentleman in giving her her space. When she had the energy, he took her by the hand and led her throughout the camp to introduce her to the others. They were friends and loyal servants to Hoseok and his family. 

Ehri received warm greetings and welcomes, filling her heart with happiness she couldn’t begin to describe. These weren’t her people. They were Goryeons and lived a life far apart from her own. She should have been seen as the enemy in their eyes. They had every right to hate her for the potential cause of their country’s upheaval from her own people. But there was nothing of the sort in their eyes or their mannerisms toward her. 

Their vibrant laughter, rich stories, and warm smiles were a comfort to her. As she sat curled up by the campfire with the others, they all were entranced with Hoseok’s lute playing. He eased their worries for what would happen to their nation through his songs of encouragement, rekindling what hope may have burned out inside of each of them. As they often said, it was always darkest before dawn.

This, too, would pass.

The warmth of the fire, the lute’s melody, and her own fever lulled her to sleep. When she came to, she was back in her tent and wrapped in a number of blankets. A cold, damp cloth was pressed to her forehead. Ehri blinked a few times to clear the blurriness from her vision and she saw Hoseok keeping vigil at her side. Their eyes met and the worry creases on his brows started to disappear. He tried to smile, but she knew he was having a hard time.

“I’m sorry, Hoseok Naeuri,” she murmured as she watched him preparing her medicine, “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

He shook his head. “No, you need to rest. I shouldn’t have pushed you so hard. Especially with it getting colder.” Hoseok used a clean, dry cloth to wipe at the sweat around her cheeks and neck. 

Ehri tried to suppress a cough, but failed to keep a few of them from coming out. “How long until we reach Goryeo.”

“We’ll dismantle camp tomorrow and ride out at first light. If we keep a steady pace, we’ll arrive in a few days.” Removing the cloth from her forehead, he dipped it into a brass basin and wrung the water out. “And then we can get a proper physician to look at you.”

She pouted. “I’m fine,” she insisted, “I don’t get sick often so this is just how my body is reacting to it.”

“Even so, I want to be sure.” Hoseok placed the cloth back on her forehead. “Besides, in Goryeo we’ll have better access to medicine than the peddlers we’ve encountered on the journey.” He leaned down and placed a soft kiss to her cheek. “Now sleep.”

Nodding, she sighed and was about to close her eyes when she noticed a box on the table. Ehri blinked, rubbed at her eyes, and then looked again to make sure she wasn’t seeing anything. There wasn’t such a decorative box on her table when she’d left the tent earlier. Hoseok seemed to gauge that she was looking elsewhere, following her line of sight. He gave a gentle laugh.

“Oh, that?” He stood from the small stool situated at her bedside and retrieved the box from the table. After he sat back down, he opened it and showed her the metallic spider lily inside. “Do you like it?”

Her lips parted, but she lacked the proper words to describe its beauty. Instead, she nodded.

“I’m glad.” He closed the box. “It was supposed to be your wedding present, but I figured this would help lift your spirits some.”

Ehri sighed a little, her brows furrowing. “But didn’t you say that the legend of the Spider Lily is a sad story?” She pouted again. “Why would you give me such a thing as a wedding present?”

Hoseok seemed to take amusement in her childish questioning and reached out to pet her head. “I bought this from an artisan who claimed that this flower is different from the actual spider lily.”

She was curious. “Different how?”

Again, Hoseok opened the box to show her the lovely flower. “He said that anyone who possesses this flower is guaranteed to be reunited with their love in the next life. It will not come to pass like in the tale of Manju and Saka.”

“How can he guarantee that?”

“I asked the same thing,” Hoseok said while laughing. He closed the box. “But we will just have to see when we are reborn again, hm?” He stroked her cheek with his fingers. “I want to love you again in our next life, Ehri-ah.”

The informal way of speaking to her caused her cheeks to flush. There was so much love in his words that she couldn’t help but feel the urge to cry. She didn’t know just how much time she had left to love this man, and it was even more cruel to keep that knowledge from him. But she wanted to prevent him from suffering needlessly. There was no sense in imparting such pain to him and so she would keep it bottled up inside of herself for as long as she could.

Until life saw it fit to escort her to the Underworld.

Ehri’s condition worsened as the days bled on. 

Hoseok did his best to keep himself calm, but there was a horrifying truth that he couldn’t shake from his mind, even though he desperately wanted to. He spied her attendant leaving Ehri’s tent on the night before they would arrive in Goryeo all but bawling her eyes out. He made sure to keep himself hidden and while there was a part of him that wanted to force her to tell him what was going on, he also wanted to respect Ehri’s wishes. 

Maybe he was thinking too much. Once they arrived in Goryeo, he would seek his father’s help in obtaining the best physicians to see to her care. They had skilled doctors in their country who were advancing their medical studies day after day.

Surely someone would have the remedy to heal Ehri’s ailment.

Hoseok wanted to ride in the carriage with Ehri until they were in Goryeo, but she insisted that she be alone. She didn’t want to bother him with all of her coughing and wheezing which, in turn, would only make him worry further. She wasn’t wrong, but the notion didn’t make him happy. Her attendant rode with her in the carriage, making sure she was hydrated and taking her medicine in a timely fashion.

After they crossed the border and cleared the checkpoint, Hoseok informed the others that he would ride ahead to his family’s estate. He needed to make sure everything was prepared for Ehri’s arrival and that doctors were already there to administer to her medically.

He practically burst through the main gate of his family’s estate, sliding off his horse and running for the main house. Slinging the door open roughly, he thundered through the halls - having not bothered to take off his shoes. 

“Father! Mother!” he yelled, opening every door he could see to determine the whereabouts of his family. 

Laughter was heard out in the garden and he ran through one of the side entrances to get there as quickly as possible. When he arrived at the gardens, looking quite haggard, his brothers stopped their archery competition as their parents peered up at him from their chairs. His youngest brother, Jungkook, dropped his bow and quiver, immediately racing to his side.

“Hyung-nim, what’s the matter?” he asked, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Are you alright?”

His other younger brothers, Jimin and Taehyung, were also making their way toward him. 

“You look like the Grim Reapers have been chasing you,” teased Taehyung as he peered over Hoseok’s shoulders, “in that much of a rush to introduce us to your bride-to-be?”

Hoseok ignored his little brother, his eyes meeting both of his older brother’s and his twin, Namjoon. They instantly could ascertain the desperation in his eyes. 

“What is it, Hoseok-ah?” their father asked, rising from his chair and crossing over to him. “Is everything alright?”

Reaching out with his hands, he clung shamelessly onto the sleeves of his father’s robes. “Father, please! Call a doctor, the best doctor we can afford and get our hands on!” His father frowned and Hoseok wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep himself together. “It’s Ehri! She’s sick and needs a physician immediately!”

Nodding, his father pointed to one of the servants to go fetch a physician from town immediately. After the servant left, Hoseok’s legs gave way beneath him and he collapsed to the ground. His mother and brothers were all at his side, lifting him back up onto his feet and ushering him to his room. He hadn’t realized how tired he was and while the adrenaline continued to pump through him, they urged him to close his eyes for just a little bit, all of them promising to wake him up the moment the caravan returned.

The fatigue and stress of the journey mixed together with Hoseok’s anxiety over Ehri. As he fell into his bed, he couldn’t fight against the urge of sleep overtaking him. Within seconds, the world faded out around him.

Hoseok’s family was delightful.

Even as she was placed in her own quarters and fussed over by doctors, they treated her like she was already a member of the family. Jungkook painted wonderful pictures of flowers and landscapes that he promised to have properly framed into a folding screen for her room. Taehyung told fascinating stories of adventurers going off to slay dragons. Jimin brewed some of the best tea she’d ever tasted in her life. The younger brothers all listened with rapt attention to the folk legends of her own homeland, particularly of warriors who fought valiantly against the gods to protect their people and ensure their power of choice and freewill was not taken from them.

Namjoon was quiet, often reading philosophical texts and poems from his and Hoseok’s collections. They were twin brothers and while they looked nothing alike, she could tell they both had similarly soft and intellectual natures. He was a bit more clumsy than Hoseok, as well as the rest of his brothers, but he more than made up for it with his charm and wit.

Yoongi, the second older brother, always seemed to sport a dour expression. At first, she believed that he didn’t like her for reasons she couldn’t quite understand. He clearly had no issue with her being a Mongol, but there was something barbarous in his words every time he spoke with her. It wasn’t until a few days after her arrival that it became clear that that was simply how he showed his affection to others. If he was worried, he fussed. If he was happy, he called someone foolish for being kind. If Hoseok wasn’t attending to her needs, Yoongi was always there to change out the damp cloths and wipe the sweat from her skin.

Seokjin was charming and kind, always gentle and sneaking in delicious sweets and snacks for her when she felt a little better. He kept a stern vigil on physicians who were overseeing her care in Hoseok’s absence. Truth be told, it was often Seokjin who chased her beloved Hoseok away since seeing her in that state only frayed his nerves even more.

Especially when the truth of her illness was finally revealed.

Many doctors examined her. They all came to the same conclusion. 

It was a disease of the lungs, one that they could not cure. While the physicians in her own country told her the same thing, part of Ehri hoped that Goryeo would have the answer where Mongolia did not. There was always the chance and it was that chance that Ehri clung on to so desperately. 

But like she expected, there was nothing they could do.

The only thing that could be done for her was to make her as comfortable as possible until the very end. Hoseok was a mess, raging at the doctors and threatening to have them killed for their laziness. But they were doing the best they could. Ehri could see that and so she knew Hoseok could see that as well. There was nothing that could be done. Only a miracle could pull Ehri out of this infestation attacking her lungs and she wasn’t a big believer of such things.

When she was well enough to move around, Ehri and Hoseok were married. It was a modest affair in his family home. Her only regret was that her own family couldn’t be part of the festivities. After a night of celebration, Ehri and Hoseok turned in for the night and slept. It was all she could manage since she lacked the strength in her body to give up her innocence, her first night, to her husband. But Hoseok was understanding and kind, merely holding her close to his body as she attempted to fight off a night of fitful, fever-induced dreams.

Like their nations’ leaders predicted, war began to spread throughout Goryeo and Mongolia. The conflict bled across borders and into each country, both nations hoping that the other would give up their stance on their respective worlds and surrender. Neither country would surrender to the other and the commoners, the people, were caught in the crossfire. Her family wrote to her, imploring her to come home but she couldn’t bring herself to even reassure them that she was fine. What energy she had, she spent it writing and it wasn’t to her family.

She was a person of Goryeo now.

Ehri felt it harder to maintain her energy with each passing day. When she finally started coughing up blood was when she knew her time in the world was drawing to a close. Her attendant was present at the time, spying the blood stain on her lips and the silk handkerchief. Ehri made her swear not to tell anyone, making sure her friend cleaned her face of the tears before going to fetch her tonic. 

Winter was not kind to Ehri’s lungs and she wasn’t allowed to see the snow falling outside. This saddened her far more than she expected since the snow reminded her of home. But Ehri also knew that the minute she inhaled the cold, it would spread like needles into her lungs. Regardless of the inevitable, she still had to take care of herself.

As she diligently took her medicine and rested, Ehri could smell the air changing from inside the estate. Spring would soon be upon them. She would be able to see the flowers blooming again. The pollen would, no doubt, be terrible for her lungs. But she didn’t care. She was denied her snow, the least she could do was indulge in the rebirth of the land.

Ehri exited her room as quietly as possible, leaving her attendant asleep at the table while she was sewing. She would get an earful later, but it would be worth it to see the lovely dogwood and cherry trees in full bloom in the courtyard. She wrapped an extra layer of clothing around her body to keep the cold at bay, stumbling out onto the back verandah.

Her lips parted in awe at the blossoms swaying back and forth on their branches. The delicate pink and white petals flew and danced in the air as they broke free from their constraints. The sky was a pastel blue and there were no clouds to be seen. The sight caused tears to form in Ehri’s eyes and she quickly covered her mouth to keep from sobbing out loud.

“It’s so beautiful,” she whispered to herself. 

“Pu-in,” called Hoseok, startling her. She noted the serious look on his face and immediately lowered her head in shame. She’d been caught in the act. “What are you doing? You’re supposed to be resting.”

“I’ve slept enough.” Reaching out to grasp his arm, she looped her own through his. “I wanted to enjoy the day with you, Seobang-nim.” 

Ehri giggled and she noted the slight tint of pink on Hoseok’s cheeks. They’d been officially husband and wife for several months and he still seemed so shy about it. Which was fine with her. It made it so much easier to tease him.

Clearing his throat loudly, he turned his face away from her to hide his shyness. “Yes, well...you should have had your attendant come fetch me then.”

She leaned in closer, resting her cheek on his shoulder. “It’s more fun this way.”

Hoseok sighed in defeat, carefully ushering her down the steps from the verandah and into the courtyard. Ehri knew he could never stay upset with her for very long. While she tried not to have her way all the time, she was still stubborn about certain things. Refusing to be bed-ridden was one of those instances, regardless of how tired her body felt and how much it protested against her.

They crossed the courtyard, making their way toward the large dogwood tree. From there, he fanned out the tail end of his robe so that Ehri could sit on it and not get her clothes dirty. She laughed gently, feeling another flush rush up her neck and spread over her cheeks. Truly, she was the luckiest woman alive to have such a caring husband who loved and spoiled her. 

Settling herself comfortably, Ehri laid her head on Hoseok’s shoulder. He shifted a little, wrapping one arm around her and pulling her close. Gasping, she couldn’t help the shy smile that flitted over her face. When she took a breath, she could smell his scent that was so unique to him; like the forest after a rainstorm. It mixed in with all the different fragrances of Spring that seemed to dance around them. Taking her hand in his, he laced his fingers through hers and they sat quietly together as a soft breeze tickled along Ehri’s skin.

“Seobang-nim?”

Hoseok hummed. “Yes, what is it, Pu-in?”

She smiled, closing her eyes. “Thank you.”

She felt him shift and she knew, even without looking at him, that Hoseok was looking at her. “For what?”

“Everything.” Ehri gripped his fingers a little tighter around his. “Thank you for everything.”

Hoseok moved, causing Ehri to lift her head up so she had to look at him. While one hand held hers, his other rested along her neck. “Pu-in…”

“I love you,” she whispered to him, leaning forward to press her lips against his.

Nothing else needed to be said. All of the beautiful moments she’d come to cherish weren’t meaningless. They were precious memories she would carry with her into the afterlife. She would never let them go. And when she was reborn, Ehri simply had one wish and she hoped that the gods would be kind enough to grant it. 

If I’m reborn, please let me love this man again. Let me love him longer in my next life. Please…

And in the darkness, Ehri felt the world fall to a raw tilt. It was like the earth opened up beneath her and began swallowing her whole. Her body felt heavy, weighted down by gravity. But she smiled against Hoseok’s lips. It was dark but she could still see his face, clear as if she were looking at him. She memorized all of his features in that moment, clinging onto them and engraving them into her heart. No, her soul.

Soon, her heartbeat stilled. All that was left was silence.

Hoseok watched as the flames devoured the elegant pine box Ehri was placed in. The funeral pyre was adorned with various flowers that his mother and sister-in-laws arranged themselves. Ehri’s family was allowed to cross the border so they could be present for her funeral services. Voices cried out as the fire grew in volume, the smoke billowing up to stain the skies in a black fog. Resting on top of the box was the metallic spider lily he’d given Ehri as a wedding present. He wasn’t sure if it was through the waves of heat or his own tears, but the flower almost seemed to take on an ethereal glow. 

No, his eyes were surely playing tricks on him.

Spring had barely begun. It was a time of rebirth and renewal. It was supposed to be a time of healing. 

Instead, something precious had been taken from him. Hoseok wasn’t sure how to even begin processing that.

He remained alone in the yard long after Ehri’s pyre extinguished itself. Her ashes were gathered in a ceramic urn and a memorial tablet was carved from the branch of the cherry trees she loved so much. It was stained and polished, inked and then placed in a small cabinet that was designated just for her. Hoseok burned a stick of incense for her every morning and every night. When he wasn’t attending to his duties around the home or tutoring other young students, he was at the temple to offer up prayers and bows almost a thousand times.

He returned home with swollen legs and sore arms every night.

For a time, he begged his family to leave Ehri’s room alone. In time, he would come to move on from her untimely demise. But until then, he wanted to be able to take comfort in her presence even in her absence. When he did enter her chambers, he could see the unfinished needlepoint of the crane by her easel. There were times when she dabbled in watercolors, thanks to Jungkook’s teaching, and she was getting better and better as days went on. 

Before her illness took a turn for the worse.

The room had her smell, albeit a bit faint, but it was still there. Hoseok took what little comfort he could from it. His hand traced over the small vanity where she attempted to apply makeup. Hoseok smiled sadly at the container of rouge that was barely touched because Ehri wasn’t healthy enough to apply the makeup on herself. His fingers curled into the small handle of the vanity’s drawer, pulling it out slowly. Inside was her hairbrush, embossed with vines made of silver and a few pearls. It was a gift from his mother at the behest that she be allowed to attend to Ehri’s hair from time to time. Of course, his beloved wife relented to the request gladly.

Just as he was about to close the drawer, he noticed a folded piece of paper under the hairbrush. Curious, he removed the paper and unfolded it. The handwriting was clearly Ehri’s and this brought a touch of comfort to him. However, as he read the words, Hoseok couldn’t stop his hands from trembling as tears seeped from his eyes.

My Dearest Hoseok,

I pray that you never find this letter. I am merely writing it for my own peace of mind. I am leaving it in a place I hope you never find and that I will have the courage to destroy it before you stumble upon it. But there is a good chance that I will not be well enough to do so. In fact, the fevers that wrack my body will most likely make me forget that I’ve even done this in the first place. But that’s alright.

I know that my time in this world grows short and it pains me to see you agonizing over my condition. I don’t want you to dwell on the past. This was something out of our control and there is nothing we could have done to prevent this. I am so fortunate to have been able to spend these last moments by your side.

Your family, your people, are my family and my people. You looked upon me not as a Mongol, an enemy, but as someone to be loved and cherished. Someone to be brought into the fold and welcomed with open arms. I do not know what the state of the world will be when you come to find this, but I hope things have calmed down. I hope that peace has returned to our people.

Mongolia. I have missed it. I have missed the snowy peaks and the fresh white powder of the landscape. I have always wanted to show you this place. The place where I was “born” - when I was a wild girl indulging in wild adventures long ago. I wish I could have shown you the country before everything fell to turmoil; before this illness threatened to claim me and drag me into the Underworld. I had so many stories I wished to share with you of my homeland.

Though, in truth, I can hardly remember it now. It’s been so long and the fevers make it difficult to focus.

I do not know if you will ever come to Mongolia on your own. But if you do, I hope the stories and traditions will bring you comfort in my absence. When you miss me. I will miss you terribly when I’m gone.

I want you to please know and understand that being with you, loving you, was the greatest gift I could ever receive in this life. Though our time was short, it was filled with wonderful things that I’m sure not many people get to experience. It was a full and lasting love; one that I am so happy to have received from you.

With this, I say farewell to you. I hope you will never read this. I pray you will never see this. But if you do, that is okay. I have made my peace with it and with the life that I was given, short as it was.

My only regret is that I was unable to express my love for you to the fullest degree that I could. I am sorry I could not show you my heart in the way that I wished. I am sorry that I could not love you more. Forgive me for being unable to tell you, Hoseok, how much you mean to me.

I will cherish the memories we have created. I will hold them close to me as I return to the Underworld. Please be well. Please be happy.

Most of all ... please forget me.

I don’t want you to be in pain after I’m gone. Because I believe in the legend of the Spider Lily. I believe in the legend that was forged in that flower you gave me. I believe that we will see each other again.

And I promise you, in our next life, I will love you even more than I did in this one.

Farewell, my Dearest Hoseok. My greatest love.

Until we meet again.

~ Bayaraa Ehri

It was the last thing Ehri left for him; a final parting gift. Clutching the letter to his chest, he heaved silent sobs as his tears fell to the floor. He crashed to his knees, hugging his body as he bent over and continued to wail in silence, his shoulders trembling with the heaviness of his cries. Everything hurt, especially breathing. And when he could no longer keep himself together, he passed out on the floor - clinging to his wife’s letter tightly to his chest.

The rain fell in heavy waves outside. Hoseok sat out on the back verandah, his head resting along the wooden pillar of his home. Spring rain gave birth to new life. Crops would be rejuvenated and grain could be harvested. Animals were being born to give the next generation a chance at survival. Festivals would be on the horizon once the rain stopped. There was always a rainbow on the other side when the sun returned.

He could take no comfort in any of it.

Not a day went by that Hoseok didn’t read the letter his wife left behind. It was the last thing he could hold on to of hers. The last chance at clinging to the memory that was her; the free-spirited woman he came to know and love with every fiber of his being. Could the Fates have been more cruel to have allowed him to stumble across her parting words? Why hadn’t she burned it up or destroyed it herself? What even possessed her to write such a thing, to leave a lasting dagger in his chest?

“You’re so mean, Pu-in.” A sad smile crossed his face as he listened to the rain beat down around him. “I thought you loved me. How could you do something so mean?”

Hoseok rarely ate and hardly slept. When he did, he was unable to keep food down. When he slept, it was full of nightmares of him losing Ehri over and over again; unable to prevent her from being swept away by darkness. He often woke up screaming, covered in sweat, and his brothers were at his side in their own attempts to comfort him. His parents tried to get him to take the medicine the physicians left, but everything tasted like ash in his mouth.

He could barely get three spoonfuls in before promptly vomiting it back up.

It didn’t take long for him to get sick. His grief was an ailment all by itself and his refusal to nourish himself only expedited his illness. While he felt guilty for the anguish he was causing his family, Hoseok couldn’t find a way to heal his broken heart. 

He cried himself to sleep. It was the only way he could.

As the days shifted to weeks, Hoseok’s entire physical appearance changed. Because of his lack of eating and sleeping, he appeared gaunt and sickly. He lost weight and looked like he had one foot in the grave already. What energy he did muster, it was to read Ehri’s last letter.

She told him to be happy. She told him to live. 

Worst of all? She told him to forget her.

How could she be so heartless? Didn’t she understand how much he loved her? How much her existence meant to him? Asking Hoseok to erase her from his mind, his heart, was just too much for him to handle.

Did she say that so they would be guaranteed a chance to meet again in the next life?

If so, then he didn’t want to continue living in this world without her. Wouldn’t it have been better to leave so they could meet quickly? What was time when one was no longer alive to determine its existence? To be able to ascertain the creeping ebb and flow of the passing seasons?

Rolling over onto his side, he clutched the letter in his hands as his tears soaked into his silk pillow. “No,” he whispered, his voice barely recognizable, “I don’t want to be here to see it alone. I don’t want to see it march on without you here with me.”

He shut his eyes, curling his body into a ball as tightly as he could. The rain fell softly outside and he could hear it from his window. It was nature’s last attempt at calming the raging storm in Hoseok’s heart. His final farewell to a world that he no longer wished to be part of.

The world cried with him.

And in that last moment, Hoseok felt what remained of his spirit slowly lifting away. His vision blurred until there was nothing but a pinprick of light. Seconds later, it, too, disappeared. The guilt and regret that weighed on his heart smothered it out, leaving him alone.

The spring rain fell harder in response to Hoseok’s departure, leaving only his shell behind. The two lovers were now gone, their spirits returning to the ether. They were separated now, thanks to a cruel twist of Fate. But the spider lilies would not forget their sorrow. They would remember; their tears forever soaked into their petals and leaves. A promise to be reunited forged in iron and melted in fire once more.

The Heavens would mourn their passing for now.

Until they were able to meet again.

AN: So for those of you curious, I figured I would give you a little breakdown on honorifics used in Classical/Period Korea. Naeuri - A term used for men who were not peasants, servants, or slaves. Agassi - A term used for unmarried women who were not peasants, servants, or slaves. Hyung-nim - A term used by younger brothers in reference to their older brothers. Pu-in - A term used by men when speaking to their wives. Seobang-nim - A term used by women when speaking to their husbands.

[joopiterjoon]

Agust D- JHS

Pairing: Hoseok x reader

Genre: PG13, Not really fluff and not really angst

Warnings/Tags: Drag!Hoseok, Bartender!Kook, Clubowner!Namjoon, drag, pronoun changes, dance performances, kissing, alcohol vague references to the larger story

Wordcount: 4k

a/n: This is from a story that I work on and drop frequently. I have enough to just need to fill in some plot holes now. I’m posting this to see if anyone would want to read it? So let me know if you want to know more

Part of ficswithluv’s #FWLBingo!

“Ladies and Lads with our without nads, our next woman of the night. It’s the dazzling, the soul-stealing, Hope!”

Jungkook rolls a cloth over a glass he turns with the over hand, nodding to the stage. “There’s who you’re looking for.”

You swivel on the bar stool.

“Hoseok?” you squeak in shock.

A stunning woman walks from the back of the stage. She has on a sleek, glittering blue dress that shines in the lights as they sway across the stage. She stares this way and that, to the beat of the music. Even from here, Hope’s face is dazzling. Literally. Rhinestone’s line her high cheek bones, lips ice blue and glistening. Her eyes are large from the makeup, popping and making her nose sharp. The dress falls over sculpted shoulders and dips into bellsleeves that glisten white.  A deep dip from muscle appear around her clavicles as she positions her hands on her hips, where the dress fans out around her.

It’s stunning, and you find yourself leaning onto the counter as you slouch in the chair. The dress sparkles as she spins, waving to the crowd and bending over backwards to the song. It’s a sultry beat, filled with something soft and longing. She drops to the floor, body bobbing in time with the base as she now lies backwards on the floor and wistfully twirls her arms above her. You swallow when she rolls up, turning to display an open back.

She stretches a hand to the sky with the rise of the music. You can tell she’s lipsyncing, jaw over exaggerating if the original soundtrack wasn’t giveaway enough as the vocals and crescendo of sound reach a breaking point. You jump when her arms fall to the side, fists balled and the music drops. You raise your hands to clap, but the crowd is unusually silent.

When the white flood lights alight the stage, Hope’s head snaps up, a conniving smirk on her face. She reaches up, one hand tearing off the wig and the other smearing the makeup off her face. She squats down, gathering the dress before she rips it clean off, breaking away at the side.

And there, on the stage a yard away from you, is Hoseok. Shirtless, Balenciaga waistband peaking above ripped jeans that were hidden beneath the tulle of the dress. He raises his arms to get the crowd going, snagging a mike and a snapback from off stage. When he spins back, his arm is raised high, arching the entire side of his body, tongue curling out of his mouth toward the microphone. His core is tight, back strong as he rolls his hips to the beat.

And then your breath catches.

They call me new thang

The recruit is here, to take over everything

The whole world, concert so sick

His voice is its own music, filled with the words, the beat, the sounds needed to add to his display. He crawls onto his knees, rolling towards the edge of the stage, knees popping up from the floor as he runs a hand through his hair and turns the hat around.

I’m different from the hyungs

That ignore their duties

An uprising of celebrities

Damn only strong ones can mess with me

He swivels then, kicking his feet under him and twisting to a standing position once more before you can even fathom how the motion happened. He swings himself off the stage on one hand, rolling into people shoving money into his waistband, stroking their chests or necks as he saunters through the crowd. Everyone cheers and screams, one man practically faking as Hoseok fakes a bite in his direction.

Then, he turns, snapping his hips as he drops lower and lower where the crowd dispersed. He drops low, popping his hips, and you giggle a bit. It looks more carefree, silly in his get up and the alcohol-soaked floor. But just like that, he kicks off, spinning to the floor on one knee before he slides towards some man, rolling his chest up his thigh.

It gets to you. Your heart flutters a bit, and you find yourself sitting a bit straighter.

But not as much when he locks eyes with you. You wonder if you’ve been caught, somewhere you aren’t supposed to be. But instead, that same smile curls on his face, knowing and crooked, as an eyebrow cocks while he continues to rap.

Doesn’t matter if I’m nasty or if I’m a wack or fack

I’m the guy that will carve history on the ground

He saunters towards you and the crowd oo’s and ah’s as he, for what feels like the hundredth time, drops to the ground at the word and swings back up with a hand cupping his groin. As he gets closer, you recognize that same teasing glint he always has when he’s about to fuck with you.

You reach behind you to push off the counter and run, but Hoseok is there before you can stop. He’s between your legs, lowering until his crotch is level, and pumping up into the seat. Your jaw is dropped as you laugh incredulously, not sure what to do with your hands behind you when he leans in, microphone just tracing up your chest as he moves up your body. The crowd is screaming, but at this point, you can’t even breathe from the shock of your tenant air fucking you. The roughness of his jeans catches on your own, his hot breath fans over your chest as he makes his way up to your agape expression. This close, you can see the sweat from his effort glittering over his skin in the varying shades of the strobe lights.

Your body finally leaves you, or as the announcer mentioned, your soul is eaten, when Hope reaches out, delicate fingers tucking hair behind your ear, running his index down your cheek as he starts stepping back, curling his finger in. You shake your head and the crowd boos. Hoseok waves to the booing crowd, pout on and eyebrow cocked, tempting you as he continues to rap along. You shout no louder, crossing your arms in front of you. Your legs feel like jello, and your heart might launch out of your mouth if you have to speak again.

Hoseok shrugs, reaching out to the closest person. He snatches up a man who he grinds into, using his shoulders to help him jump back on stage before he’s on his knees holding the man’s face in front of him, rolling his hips just close enough to touch before throwing the man’s head back, who then fake faints (or maybe it’s real?) when he falls into a friend.

The song starts to dial down, and on the final note, Hoseok is in center stage again, hand held high.

“Love you, Gemini!” he blows a kiss, drops the mic, and the crowd goes wild as he walks off stage.

“Not looking for a debut performance?” a voice calls beside you, and your soul almost leaves your body again. Namjoon sits next to you, leaning on his elbow on the counter as he watches Hoseok leave. “He wanted you up there.”

“He wants a lot of things,” you roll your eyes, trying to take in eveything you saw as you take a sip of the drink.

When you turn back, Namjoon is eyeing you up and down. You probably don’t fit what he wants you to wear in the club, in jeans and a jacket. “He does, doesn’t he?” is all he says, pushing off the counter and straightening the lapels of his black coat.

“Off to woo the partygoers,” he chuckles and heads out. You wonder just how long he’d been there, watching you watch… the show.

You shake it off, swiveling back around to the counter. Jungkook is serving people who are grabbing drinks between sets, so you reach for your drink. Before you can pick it up, warmth crowds your back and a hand reaches passed yours to snag the glass.

“Is that for me?” Hoseok’s voice teases in your ear. You swivel back around, following your drink. He has that damn half-smile on, holding the drink by the rim as he throws it back. He’s clothed now, a light sweatshirt but still the same ripped jeans. He smacks his lips after he finishes your drink. You grimace as he sets it back down.

“So this is what you look like with a shower?” You tease. Hoseok laughs, nodding as he collapses in the seat next to you. He lazes onto one arm, fingertips playing with the glasses on the other side of the bar. The angle emphasizes his sharp jawline, and the crystals still under his eyes remind you of how beautiful he looked earlier.

“How’d you like the show?” He asks with a playful wink.

“I was too busy trying not to be part of it.”

Hoseok laughs again, eyes closing as he sits upright. “I was just trying to say thank you for coming to pick me up,” he shrugs. For some reason, that makes your heart fall a bit. Or maybe it was your stomach? Maybe you’re sick.

“Wow, you really go all out,” you mock your appreciation.

“I do when I know what I want,” Hoseok explains. But his fiddling with the glasses has stopped, his eyes locked on yours. Hope stretches up, standing on the bars of his stool. “I hope good ole betty is okay in the shop. It’s cold tonight,” He pouts, leaning over the bar for a yellow bottle, maybe because it’s same yellow as Betty.

As he tips the bottle back into his mouth, Yoongi comes over to take the bottle out of his hands. “Wow, must have gotten some tip,” the man quips, tucking the bottle on the shelf behind the bar. Hoseok laughs, looking down at the bar. He can’t seem to look Yoongi in the face. Even in the bustling of intermission between acts, you can sense the awkwardness. There’s an odd stretch of silence before Yoongi finally speaks.

“Yeah, I bet. Thanks,” he gives a smile, but it’s fake. Even you can tell. Yoongi can tell too, and he moves to say something, but Hoseok is on his feet.

“Welp, this old landlord needs to get home,” he swings an arm around your shoulders as you gawk at the “old” he tagged on. He looks down at you, and the smile starts to dazzle. You look back at Yoongi instead, giving him a short nod. “It’s past her bedtime.” 

Hoseok is pulling you out, elbows linked before you can say goodbye.

As you break into the night air, you slow down. The thumping of the music can still be felt in your shoes, but the chill in the air makes the night feel frozen in time. “Hoseok, you still haven’t talked to him?”

“No,” Hoseok answers quickly, walking towards your car. You trot after, his gate wide.

“But…” Hoseok turns, eyebrows raised, so you pause. He looks like he’s wondering what you have to say, but his half-set eyes send a different signal. “It’s just, I’d get my parking spot back if you guys could settle this.”

Hoseok’s walking backward, humming at your reasoning. It reminds you of him beckoning you towards the stage. You both stand at your car now.

“Why…” you clear your throat as he leans against your car, fist against his temple, completely at home, smiling at you. It makes the words disappear from your head. You shake it, hoping they’ll jumble back into place. “Why do you keep this up? Why not just find somewhere to live and a decent job instead of scraping by?”

“Ah, this question,” Hoseok starts. He rolls onto his back, putting his hands in the jacket pockets. He turns and winks. “Guess you really are interested after all.”

You shove his shoulder to let him know he needs to get on with it.

He chuckles, scuffing the heel of his shoe in the gravel parking lot. “If having my dream means being a bit uncomfortable, I’m willing to make that sacrifice.”

You understand what he means. Not even living paycheck to paycheck, sacrificing your livelihood for your studies. It’s a sacrifice out of passion for passion. It’s something he understands. It’s part of what has him creeping closer and closer to you. Inside your home. And closer to you.

You tuck your own hands into your pockets, trying to fight the cold. “Um, can I try something?” The words are out of your mouth before you can stop yourself, even process where you are headed with this. The world is suddenly very warm. A sensation, an urge suddenly overpowers you. Something you haven’t acknowledged that is now determined to crack the surface and pour out.

Hoseok rolls his head to the side, then his body follows suit. You push off the car, standing up straight. Hope’s smile edges up his face. Your eyes are trained on that smile as  you take a step forward, drawing in a sharp, cold breath for confidence. Hoseok stands as you take another step closer.

“Are you gonna ask to kiss me?” Hoseok says with lilt.

You give a short nod. Yes, that is exactly what you are doing. You didn’t even want to voice it to yourself. That these feelings had appeared, manifested, and broken loose while Hoseok was on the stage, doing what he loved. You can’t ask, too nervous, so you just look into his eyes, those soft, pretty brown eyes, and hope the question transmits.

Hoseok gives a short nod back, the smile turning soft, something else flickering in those eyes besides softness. “Okay.”

Your cold fingers reach out, lingering around the curve of his neck before your fingers fit under the jut of his jaw. His eyes flutter at the cold touch, mouth parting a bit. But he keeps his eyes on you as you lean in hesitantly.

You lick your lips. Hoseok smirks a little bit, but now his eyes are trained on your lips, not boring into your eyes with that daring glint.

And that’s all you need. You push forward, pulling him into you at the same time. As soon as your lips touch his, he’s in motion, one arm around your waist and the other sliding up your back, a physical request not to pull back. So you don’t, you snake your arm around his neck til your elbow locks behind him, lips parting at the slick touch of his warm tongue across your bottom lip.

You whimper when he nibbles at your bottom lip, sucking lightly before mouthing at you again, tongue behind your teeth as yours twists with his. You taste your drink in his mouth, but something more. Something sweet, almost floral as he bends you back, holding you into him with one final, firm kiss. When he tilts you upright, you grab onto his jacket collar for dear life. He blinks down at you, clearly amused by your sudden shock at almost falling over.

“Not bad,” he teases. You frown at the off-handed remark and jerk your elbow around his neck. He pretends to almost drop you. You both giggle.

He swivels you both, moving his hands to your waist as he lets you fall back into the car. The warmth of his weight contrasts with the cold exterior of your car. He looks down at you, then back up to your face, lips pressed then with a deep sigh.

“What?” you ask, hands now on his chest, curling your hands under the hoodie for some extra warmth. Hoseok shakes his head. 

“That was a decision,” he states. “That was a turning point.”

You tug on his hoodie, pulling him flush against you again. “I think so, too,” you murmur, then find his lips again.

[jungshookz]

peach, please; jhs

🍑 pairing: jung hoseok x reader

🍑 genre: spooktober day (4/7); singledad!hobiverse; this isn’t spooky at all unless you’re scared of a tiny bedsheet ghost babie :^) 

🍑 wordcount: 1.6k 

🍑 note: a lot of you seem to like singledad!hobi and little hope so i had to bring them back!!!!!!!!! halloween candy < can of peaches 

(picture credits here!) 

                                   ◢▅◣Ξ◥▅◤Ξ◢▅◣Ξ◥▅◤

working a night shift at the grocery store on halloween night really didn’t turn out to be as spooky as you imagined it was going to be

you might want to get started on fixing that fluorescent light flickering away in aisle 8 though because thAt is genuinely kind of scaring you a little bit

you decided to be nice when jungkook asked if you could cover for him on halloween and you agreed to do it oF course because you can’t say no to extra money

(but also you couldn’t help but wonder why yoU weren’t invited to the halloween party he was throwing instead of doing his job)

you’re suPer fun at parties and if there was a costume party you probably would’ve won it because you dressed up as one of the ghostbusters and you went ALL out

you got the khaki jumpsuit and the fingerless leather gloves and the cool goggles and evEn a replica of the proton pack used in the movie

you were super excited to show it off (to be honest you were kind of expecting jungkook to invite you but to be fair you’ve only known each other for like a month or two because he only just started working here) but after finding out you wouldn’t be showing it off at a party you decided the next best thing was to show it off hEre

at the grocery store

where you work

where you’re getting nO customers because why would someone want to go grocery shopping on halloween

so it’s kind of a bummer that no one’s ever going to see how siCk your costume is

actually maybe that’s a good thing because your proton pack knocked over a couple bags of chips a couple times

but maybe you can wear it next year!

if jungkook invites you to a damn party, that is

(it’s pretty obvious that you’re only a little bitter that you weren’t invited)

hopefully the ghostbusters will still be kind of trendy

and-

you jump when you suddenly feel a little tug at the side of your jumpsuit and you twist to look and whO has their grimy hands on you

you are very much surprised when you see the cutest little ghost blinking up at you

this child!!!!!! is wearing a beDSHEET with two holes cut out for their eyes!!!!!!!! and it’s probably the cuTEst thing you’ve ever seen in your entire life

“well, hello there, spooky ghost-“ you’re careful to not fall flat on your face as you hop off the step stool and get down on your knees “can i help you with something?”

“ᵗʷᶦᶜᵏ ᵒʳ ᵗʷᵉᵃᵗ?” she raises her paper baggie up at you and you can’t help but let out a little coo because cOME ON who wouldn’t coo at that

TWICK OR TWEAT

“trick or- oh, uh…” you glance around the aisle

this is… not the candy section

this is the canned food section

“you know what, the halloween candy is riiiiight over there, so why don’t we-“

“peachies?”

you freeze and immediately narrow your eyes in suspicion

peachies

you only know one person in the entire world who says peachies

“…hope?” you raise a brow and almost melt into a puddle of goOp when she giggles and nods

you feel your heart skip a beat when the realisation hits you that where there’s a hope, there’s a hoseok

and you haven’t seen the two of them in a while!!

you haven’t been to work in like two weeks because you came down with a pretty nasty flu and had to stay home

and honestly your nose is still a little drippy but you had to come back because a) you have rent and tuition to pay and b) …u missed hoseok (aNd little hope)

“alright, little ghosty.” you’re cradling three cans of peaches in your arms along with hope’s trick or treat bag and hope has her little hands wrapped around (1) single can “let’s get this to checkout so that i can scan them oTherwise the manager is going to think that you’re stealing, and thEn we’re going to find your dad becau-“

“y/n!” you look up and you’re pleasantly surprised to see hoseok (out of breath) at the end of the aisle

and oH my god

oh my god

his costume matches with hope’s costume :-(

he’s just a bigger bedsheet ghost :-((((((((((

of course he pulled the sheet up so that it’s draped over his shoulders because it’s hard to look for your child when you can only see out of two poorly cut ovals

“why do you always losE your child at the grocery store?” you tease lightly and watch as hope trots over to hoseok and raises the can of peaches to him like some kind of sacrifice

“it’s not my fault!!! she’s a vEry sneaky ghost.” hoseok pats hope’s head gently and she bounces on her heels and tries to get him to take the can of peaches from her aGain

it’s getting heavy!!!!!

tAKE IT

please release her from these torturous duties

also hoseok is going to take this to the grave but uh

every time he’s supposedly ‘lost’ hope in this store just came from him telling her that they were going to play a game called ‘who can find y/n first??? first one to find y/n gets a can of peAchies-‘

he just doesn’t know how to approach you withouT hope

he’s working on it aLright

“you know, i’m dishonouring the laws of a ghostbuster by noT sucking the two of you up right now.” you gesture to the proton pack attached to your back and hoseok snorts and raises his hands in defence

“the only plausible reason why you haven’t suCked us up yet is because you’ve probably fallen hopelessly in love with me-“ hoseok definitely doesn’t miss the way your cheeks flush at that comment and he immediately feels a ruSh of confidence flowing through his veins

“you’re right, that must be it!” you play along as the three of you head to the cashier

hope, surprisingly enough, isn’t holding hoseok’s hand like she usually is

(hoseok finally gave in and took the can from her)

she’s holding onto one of the belt loops of your jumpsuit and if you weren’t so preoccupied with aMping up the charm with hoseok you would probably smother hope in kithes right now

“according to your logic, you must be hopelessly in love with me too because you haven’t made a move to possess me yet-“

hoseok laughs lightly as he helps you plop the cans onto the conveyer belt

you head behind the counter and turn the monitor on before beginning to scan the cans and you immediately point at hoseok when he pulls his wallet out

“it’s halloween and this is hopie’s treat.” you hum as you stack them up neatly in hope’s candy bag “if it was her trick then i would make you pay. you have to keep up with these things, hoseok!”

maybe it’s the fact that there’s a lot of sugar running through his veins and giving him a slight sugar high

or maybe it’s the fact that hoseok really reaLLy likes you and definitely reaLLY likes that you seem to like hope and that hope seems to likes you but-

“trick or treat?” hoseok straightens up slightly and offers you a teasing smile when you raise a brow at him

“…treat. always treat.”

“okay - hand me a pen and the receipt.”

hm

what is he uP to

you yank the receipt for the peaches out of the machine before handing it to him and he flips it over and poPs the cap off the pen

“y/n-“ you don’t know how you didn’t realise hope had snuck behind the counter to join you but there is a little ghost behind you agAin

a genuine gasp of glee slips past your lips when she unfurls her fist to reveal one single (mini!!!) reese’s peanut butter cup “is that for me??”

hope nods and bounces up and down on her heels to try to get you to take it

her arm is getting tired

“well, thank you very much, miss hope. i will enjoy this.” you unwrap the little cup and pop it in your mouth

mMMmmM

you can never go wrong with peanut butter and chocolate

…unless u have a peanut allergy and/or you don’t like chocolate

then you can probably go wrong with peanut butter and chocolate

“alright, we should probably be on our way - hope had like three little baggies of m&ms and i’m estimating the sugar crash to hit her in like five minutes.” hoseok snorts as he hands you back the pen and the now folded receipt

“mm, that’s probably a good idea. i’ll see you… later…?” you trail off slowly and hoseok grins and nods

as soon as the two of them leave you hurry to unfold the receipt and-

’i know it’s probably controversial for a ghostbuster and a ghost to go out for coffee but if you’re ever free sometime, call me? -hoseok :-)’

help me help you make your wishes come tru (aka send me a spooky request)

spooktober masterlist // main masterlist

[bubmyg]

love is in the air - jhs

pairing: hoseok x reader

genre: teacher!au, enemies to lovers, humor, fluff, ft distressed principal namjoon, dorky fifth grade teaching pair seokjin and yoongi, second grade teaching duo jeongguk and taehyung, and allusions (like one) to best friend pe teacher jimin

word count: 3,964

summary: you wouldn’t say you hated the teacher of your neighboring classroom but you kind of hate him and now you’re paired up to compete in the school wide door decorating contest or you hate losing to Hoseok but you hate losing to Jeongguk and Taehyung in the second grade wing a thousand times more.

a/n: the first part of my “to lovers” valentine’s/anniversary series!! the series link is in my masterlist if you’re looking for it :’-)

“Last order of business…” Namjoon squinted at the piece of laminated paper. The blue coffee mug in hand was placed aside as the principal instead went to smudging at the slick surface with the curve of his thumb, “...the door decorating contest? Jeongguk, did you hand write this in?”

The young second grade teacher shrugged. “It’s an important manner of business.”

“Right,” Namjoon traded the Monday morning meeting notes for his mug again, taking a long, calming sip from the dark brew, “Why don’t you explain it seeing as you were eager enough to ransack my meeting and my notes for it.”

If Jeongguk were worried about the implications of testing his meticulous boss with red Sharpie, he didn’t show it. He left his chair, instead taking swinging steps until he was perched on the empty table at the front of the teacher’s lounge.

“The annual Valentine’s Day door decorating contest…”

You snorted into your tervis, watching as Namjoon’s features registered that one of his teachers was on the table before his conscious did. Jeongguk was none the wiser, squatting as his arms did a dramatic sweeping motion, “The one thing we look forward to aside from summer vacation. The thing that heals our hearts after seeing our paychecks, after cleaning up vomit for the fourth time on day two of flu season, after having outdoor recess duty for the third week in a row, after—”

“Get on with it,” A low rumble of laughter rippled through everyone at the new voice. Hoseok laughed with the reaction to his interjection, adding with a shrug, eyes sliding in your direction, “We all know I’m going to win again.”

“Who won last year, Hobi?” The words in the forefront of your conscious materialized in the form of Jimin’s voice. The gym teacher beamed at your and his sneakers squeaked as he stepped close enough to bump his hip with yours.

Hoseok’s smirk didn’t falter from the side of your face, ignoring Jimin completely as he hummed, “Error in judging. The wrong will be righted this year seeing as I already have some incredible ideas.”

“Want to share those with the rest of us?” Yoongi looked up from centering his tie adorned in various volume formulas, “What? Last year the kids convinced me to make a giant heart out of prime numbers. Nobody got it.”

“Anyway, your righted win will have to be split two ways this year, hyung,” Jeongguk straightened, arms crossed at his chest, “Why, you ask?”

“The warning bell is going to ring in literally five minutes—”

“Because this year we’re working in teams,” Jeongguk beamed, “you and your neighbor will have to put together something spectacular, together, if you’d like to enter into this years contest. No exceptions aside from Jimin who doesn’t....have a neighbor. Unless you’d like to ask the cafeteria staff for help, but—”

Taehyung, Jeongguk’s neighbor, cheered. You, Hoseok’s neighbor, groaned.

“Great, amazing, wonderful, innovative—” Namjoon waved his mug, “—now can you get off my table?”

“Deadline is the day before the kids have their card exchange and party,” Jeongguk didn’t skip a beat when Namjoon grabbed onto his elbow to speed up his obnoxious clambering off his makeshift podium, “Winner will be decided at the end of the day, like always.”

“There are classes to be taught today—” Namjoon’s smile was tight lipped, chin on his shoulder as he dragged Jeongguk the last few steps to solid ground, “—like always.”

You were mid smiling at one of your former students just outside the third grade wing, throat still tinged with the swig of coffee you’d downed, when Hoseok caught you. You tried to act like he wasn’t there, directing your attention to the red and white paper chains dangling off the ceiling.

“If you want to give me the key to your room, I can have our, winning, doors decorated in one evening.”

You snorted, longer strides trying to evade him, “What, with one of your incredible ideas?”

“Exactly.”

You turned, glaring at the bright yellow squiggles standing at attention against the baby pink of Hoseok’s short sleeved button up. He had two black folders tucked to his chest, watch pressed to the center like a much too expensive logo, sarcastic smile pressed into high apple cheeks, beaded eyes watching you under rich red bangs.

You leaned, enough to brush shoulders again, laugh shoulder shaking and fake as you clipped, “Not a chance.”

“You’ll learn,” Hoseok hummed, pausing so abruptly you nearly tumbled over the top of him. He quirked an eyebrow and obnoxious oranges and yellows that bled from within the classroom you were stopped at certainly weren’t of your own doing, “Trying to follow me into my room now too?”

You’d regret the blister on your heel with how hard you stomped your foot for the rest of the day. “I hate you.”

Hoseok disappeared into his classroom, leaving you to fiddle with your keys on your lanyard, “Noted.”

The force in which a folder materialized out of thin air onto the surface of your keyboard closed out of your email and effectively typed a row of Z’s to the middle of your lesson plan for the following day. Hoseok paid no mind to that, nor to the rest of the contents on your desk as he brushed aside a paperweight with a green worm inside and a manilla folder filled with completed coloring pages to make himself comfortable on the edge of the wood.

“Hello to you, too,” You moved the folder to shut your laptop, smoothing your hands out over the lid, “Please, take a seat.”

Hoseok’s index finger tapped the center of the folder, “I printed out my ideas. Thought you might want to take a look.”

You nudged a stapled packet of google images out from the folder, taking your time to thumb through the contents. “So I don’t get a say in any of it?”

“You do,” He flicked the back of the packet, making you jump, “You can pick from one of those.”

You eyed a giant red tree filled with handmade hearts from students, “These have to stretch to two doors now, you know that right?”

“No shit—” Hoseok glanced over his shoulder, as if one of your students were still hiding in their cubby forty minutes after the final bell, “—no kidding. If we do that one, we can put half the tree on my door and half of it on yours but like, facing each other—” His fingers brushed yours as he flipped to a different page, a giant heart disguised as a clock with the statement it’s TIME to show our love for learning, “—that one half the heart on my door, half of it on yours. If we do the mailbox one, the letters can just flow from yours to mine.”

You toyed the packet between your fingers, bending it in the center as you squinted up at him, “You’ve really thought this through, huh?”

“Only the best to try to beat you,” He snatched the packet back with a giggle and a grin, “Now only the best to beat the assholes. Sorry. The idiots.”

“Jeongguk and Taehyung?”

Hoseok cocked an eyebrow, “Well I don’t mean Seokjin and Yoongi.”

You giggled, “I heard Seokjin wanted to put do math, not meth on their doors and Namjoon almost fainted.”

Hoseok rolled his eyes, hopping off the side of your desk in a flurry of papers and a rolling worm, “Jeongguk and Taehyung are doing Frozen—” You wrinkled your nose and he nodded, “—I know.”

“Ours will be better.”

“Yeah?”

“The 2017 and 2018 winners on one team? Hell yeah,” He shot you a look and you corrected, “Heck yeah!”

“I still should have won last year,” He picked at a stray piece of notebook paper balled on one of the desks in the front row, grinning when you glared at him. “Oh, come on. You’re one in a minion? Genius.”

“Everyone hates minions.”

“Not first graders.”

“First graders aren’t judging the doors. Namjoon is.”

“Whatever,” Hoseok crossed the room, shooting the piece of trash into the plastic bin in the corner, “Are we starting tomorrow, then?”

“We didn’t pick a design.”

A hunk of rolled up paper bounced across it’s forgotten paper, rolling into your hands that stopped it from plummeting off the edge of your desk. “Pick and let me know at lunch tomorrow so I know what rolls of paper to steal from the idiots in second grade.”

You worked at soothing out the wrinkles with the heel of your palm, “They don’t have names now?”

“Not while they’re our competition. See you tomorrow,” Hoseok caught a hand in the doorframe, red hair popping back around the corner as he hesitated, “Don’t work too late.”

You met his serious expression with the tiniest bit of amusement, even if you would never admit that your heart warmed in the slightest.

“Okay, dad.”

“Talk dirty to me, miss—”

“Okay really, get out before I lock you out.”

The sheet of pink paper in hand crinkled obnoxiously when you shifted your weight on your heels, squinting accusingly at the much too high top of your open classroom door.

“You didn’t steal a step stool too?”

Hoseok grunted from where he’d been bent over cutting a similar pink piece for his door, dropping the scissors to the tile. “Taehyung told me I had to sing Love is an Open Door for it or I didn’t want it that bad,” He stepped around the paper on the floor, careful not to scuff the vibrant color with the soles of his boots, “He was right, I didn’t want it that bad.”

“Want me to go down there and ask for it?”

“No, I want you to stand still,” You were about to squirm around in inquiry when a pair of arms secured around your middle and your feet were no longer touching the floor.

“Hoseok, what are you—”

“What the fuck does it look like I’m doing?” He roughly jostled you in his grasp, as if a punishment for not giving him the strength to lift you and correct his language, “Put the paper on.”

You went rigid in his grasp, shaking the paper sheepishly, “I, uh. Need the tape.”

Hoseok placed the roll of tape in your awaiting palm, squatting next to you once more. “Wait—” He paused, face pressed against your shoulder blades, hands on your hips, “—we need to cut out a space for the door handle.”

“What do you think I am, an animal? I already did it,” His feet took tiny pattering steps behind you, “Are you ready now?”

He staggered a few times and the tape placement wasn’t as even as if you were doing it on your own but it sufficed, both doors now covered in a layer of obnoxious pink. Hoseok had red now, legs spread, body bent at the middle as he worked at tracing a giant mailbox to be pasted on the corner of your door.

“Is that what a mailbox looks like?”

Hoseok tapped his phone across the paper to you as response, screen locked and open to a clip art version of the very thing. You slid the device back as your own retort, crawling and situating yourself until you were bent over the space he was sketching out with a pen adorned at the top with a ball of feathers.

“Yes, but what you’re drawing doesn’t look like the picture.”

His lips quirked into a pant, like he’d just ran up the stairs to the fifth grade wing and back to check Seokjin and Yoongi’s nonexistent progress. The feathers on the end of the pen startled your nose into a quick sneeze. “Think you could do better?”

“That looks the exact same.”

You didn’t pause, tracing over the open lid again, “As the picture? I’m aware.”

“No, as what I drew,” Hoseok’s foot snaked in between your drawing, nudging your pen aside so a haphazard mark appeared across the paper, “Oops, look like we have to use mine, yours is ruined.”

“Hoseok, what the—”

He dropped to his knees, reaching across the drawing to wrestle the pen from your grasp, “You weren’t about to swear, were you?”

“At you? Absolutely I was, now give me the pen back.”

The corner of his lips quirked, holding the pen out of your grasp, “But I have to fix your mistake, sweetheart.”

“It wasn’t a mistake until you made it a mistake, sweetheart—”

You lunged for Hoseok, in retrospect a terrible idea, as your nose rebounded off his chin, leaving you much too close to him and his heart colored hair and heart flushed cheeks and heart shaped mouth.

There was something thick and warm on your upper lip and you briefly thought that was a weird place for your embarrassment to begin flushing, warning it to save it for when you made a fool of yourself and pressed your lips against Hoseok’s but then—

“Uh, you’re bleeding.”

You blinked owlishly at Hoseok, “I’m what?”

“You’re bleeding,” He dropped the pen in favor of curling his fingers around your chin, tilting your head up for inspection, “I think my chin broke your nose.”

Your skin burned for another reason entirely, “Move, we can’t get this on any of the paper.”

Hoseok beamed, uncaring that the side of his index finger was smeared in rich maroon as he stood, offering it to you.

“Exactly.”

You dropped an envelope of tiny, handwritten notes onto the ground next to the cut out mailbox. “The kids asked why my nose was twice the size it should be.”

Hoseok glanced up from evening out the side of the mailbox post, “What’d you tell them?”

“That their favorite recess monitor with the cool hair and the even cooler shirts did it,” You plopped down beside him, tugging out the top letter, one from one of the boys in your class as you pointed to the name, “He asked me if you kissed it better.”

He nudged you as you worked on folding the letter, “Did you want me to?”

“I wanted a little more than a you’re going to get it all over my perfect mailbox.”

Hoseok gasped, “You said that first!”

“Doesn’t mean you had to agree with me.”

You’d nearly shoved the letter back in with it’s companions when a thumb and index finger were rounding your chin, grip purposeful as a pair of petaled lips dropped to your swollen nose.

“There,” Hoseok slipped the safety scissors back into his fingers, snipping another shard of red paper into his lap, “Better?”

Hoseok extended the last letter to you, white and reinforced in sparkly pink stationary you’d bought out of your own pocket. “Want to do the honors?”

You wordlessly took the last piece of the puzzle from him, the last R to Love is in the Air, crouching next to the post and fake grass and generic envelopes overflowing with your students “love letters to learning” with purple and pink and red hearts stamped to them that adorned each of your doors. Just because it was the last letter didn’t mean it lacked your careful consideration, rocking back on your heels to check the angle, aligning the straight parts of the letter with the floor. The generic tape rolled to the corners of the letter sanctioned when you placed it, crunching slightly as you ran crooked knuckles across the letter to secure it.

“Are we done?” Hoseok offered you his hand, pulling you to stand next to him in the middle of the hallway.

Your gradual nods got more frantic the more your assessing gaze swept across your handiwork, dropping your hand out, palm up for a high five. “I think so.”

Hoseok slapped your hand but chose to hold it rather than pulling away, clasping his fingers around your knuckles to give your intertwined appendages a good shake. “I think we make better friends than rivals, don’t you?”

You pretended to ponder the thought, as if you weren’t holding hands with your arch nemesis coworker who you wanted to force feed melted crayons up until three weeks ago.

“Yeah,” You said finally, voice soft, a question. More definite, you reiterated, “Yeah. I think so, too.”

You assumed the mad scramble back through the doorway from lunch was due to the pink sprinkled cookies laid out on heart shaped plates on each child’s desk along with their tiny paper bags filled with character shaped Valentine’s. But it’s like they couldn’t hold it in, nor decide who was going to break the news to you first, sliding head first into desks and chairs before at least fifteen hands shot up in the air.

“What’s wrong guys?”

Dozens of tiny pairs of eyes exchanged glances, before one of the little girls in the front row was giggling, placing two chubby hands over her lips as she mumbled something.

“My love, you’re going to have to speak up,” You rounded your desk to crouch next to hers.

Happily, she reached for your shoulders, leaning until she could whisper into your ear, “Mr. Jeon is wearing a dress.”

You thought she was going to tell you the cafeteria staff had given them cookies early. Maybe that they hadn’t lined up in the proper order just to see if you’d notice when they came back. Maybe that they’d all signed a giant Valentine for you (because they had, you saw it sticking out of one of their backpacks).

Not that Jeongguk was wearing a dress.

You made quick work of the Disney special on the projector, telling them to dig into their cookies while you ran a quick errand. Their attentions had quickly forgotten their potential next year teacher in favor of a sweet treat, allowing you to slip quietly out of the classroom. In the same instance was Hoseok leaving his room, pink cupcake in hand as he shut his door.

“What?” He accused, “I’m taking a snack to see Jeongguk in a dress.”

The pair were standing outside their classrooms because of course they were, Namjoon in the middle of their two doors with folded arms and a raised eyebrow. Taehyung was mapping the lines of the giant Olaf on his door while Jeongguk watched on, white wig and blue dress and all.

“See, Love is an Open Door!” Taehyung was explaining proudly, snowflake covered tie scraping the floor as he stood, “Like the song!”

“Shouldn’t the door be open then,” Hoseok mumbled, shoving the last of his cupcake in his cheeks.

Jeongguk looked unamused with the sentiment, turning toward the two of you with a dramatic swish of the train at his ankles.

“I’m literally wearing a dress.”

Hoseok nudged you, “We should have worn postal service costumes.”

“No,” Namjoon pinched the bridge of his nose, “No costumes. I can’t handle Seokjin in a costume.”

“Besides, we don’t need gimmicks to win. Ours is just good.”

“It’s good? Please, take me to the good door,” Namjoon held his arms straight in front of him, eyes closed as he navigated across the hallway and nearly into the wall.

“Woah,” Taehyung exclaimed once you were in front of your shut doors. “This is pretty good.”

“Who did the mailbox?”

You were about to take credit for it when Hoseok’s arm was heavy over your shoulders, squeezing, “We both did it. Teamwork, you know.”

Namjoon already seemed sold, flapping his arms again, “Yes, this is the best one I’ve seen all day. Which isn’t saying much seeing as Yoongi tried to pass two shaped fish kissing and Seokjin’s I’m so sofishsticated off as matching, Jeongguk is in a dress, and Jimin put tape on my gym floor.”

You leaned further into Hoseok’s embrace, nodding, “...so?”

“So, you two win what might be the last competition we ever host. Congrats, or whatever—” Namjoon turned directly into Taehyung’s beaming figure, “—what are you two doing? Don’t you, I don’t know, have classes to be teaching?”

“So I wore a dress for nothing?” Jeongguk pouted.

Taehyung looped a comforting arm around his friend’s neck, leading him off in the direction Namjoon was stalking, “I think you look cool, Guk-ah—”

You turned, happily bouncing until you were fully pressed against Hoseok’s chest. “We did it!” You grinned, hopping against when his arms anchored around your hips. “We won!”

“Mhm, well up against our competition, are you really going to consider this a win?”

“Of course I’m going to consider this a win,” You whacked the back of Hoseok’s neck, “and you know what else?”

“I have a cupcake with my name on it that you’re keeping me from?”

“No,” You leaned, nose brushing his, “This makes me a repeat champion.”

Hoseok’s nose wrinkled, “Bit of a low blow, don’t you think?”

“Just because you helped me in my quest to greatness doesn’t mean I’m going to start being nice to you.”

“Sad,” He squeezed your waist and you were consciously aware that his eyelashes were long enough to brush his cheeks when he blinked, “I was starting to like you just a little bit.”

“You’ve just been demoted from co-champion to reserve champion, how does it feel—”

“Mr. Jung, will you just kiss her already?”

You were sure to have whiplash from how quickly you cracked your neck to the thirty some pair of eyes crowded around each of you and Hoseok’s slightly ajar doors. Colors danced on the whiteboard on the back of your room, suggesting the movie was still playing but they were entirely more entranced with the cheesy love story of their favorite teachers than Mickey and Minnie Mouse.

“Yeah,” The little girl from your class whined, the same one who had happily informed you of Jeongguk’s choice in dress, “It’s Valentine’s Day, you have to kiss.”

Your chin was turned by a firm grip on your jaw, Hoseok’s amused and entirely too fond expression making you want to punch him for an entirely new reason. “They’re kids,” You warned him, as if the red haired man was going to shove his tongue down your throat from the pressure he kept on your neck.

“Got it,” Hoseok dismissed, barely pecking your pursed mouth before letting go of you entirely.

“Okay, okay, who wants to open some Valentine’s?”

“We have one more for you, miss.”

Crumbs of the cookie you’d been nibbling on pooled onto the paper plate you held beneath your chin, eyes wide as you surveyed the tiny army of children that had assembled in front of your desk. You quickly discarded the treat, dusting your palms off on your slacks as you reached for the shiny metallic heart they stretched in your direction.

“You guys know you didn’t have to get me anything,” You scolded gently, placing the heart in the cross of your thighs.

“Oh, it’s not from us,” One of the little boys giggled, his lips still stained red from his own cookie, “It’s from Mr. Jung. He slipped it under the door while you were redoing your lipstick.”

“Oh,” You were careful opening it, making sure to shield the contents within from prying, tiny eyes who could barely read more than their own names anyway.

There’s more where that comes from after hours ;)

“Miss, what’s it say?”

“Yeah, did he tell you he loves you?”

You slammed the card shut with a hard swallow, shoving the card underneath your desk somewhere between your purse and the space heater you kept plugged in year round.

“It...he just said he was sorry for hurting my nose a few weeks ago, that’s all, and uh...who wants more cookies?”

[outroshooky]

for him | jhs

⇢ genre: series (fluff, brief smut)

⇢ pairing: jung hoseok x reader

⇢ word count: 2.3k

⇢ warnings: drinking, vaping, hobi almost gets electrocuted. mild smut, mentions of sex.

this work is based off of the song for him. by troye sivan. listen here.

We are running so fast and we never look back

And whatever I lack, you make up

Your hand was clutched tightly in his, and you were sprinting down the abandoned city block like your lives depended on it.

The sound of your Converse hitting concrete echoed against the stony buildings. Store lights flickered in the distance, and a car alarm’s whoops resounded through the chilly air.

How he had convinced you to take a shortcut back to your apartment down a shady side street, you’d never know. You’d said it looked suspicious, and he brushed it off. He said if worst came to worst, you could just run, and you’d get a good workout out of the experience, so why not?

Of course, fifteen feet down the block, a trash can cover clanged against a metal fence and scared the crap out of him. You simultaneously bolted, one thing led to another and now you knew why not.

The street light shone off of the creases in his jacket, the stylish leather sharpening his features. He turned to make sure you were next to him and it contrasted against his face, throwing it into shadow.

“Christ, Hoseok,” you wheezed as you loped along next to him, legs stumbling. “Slow down and consider that the person you’re running next to has legs half the size of yours.”

“All the more reason to run faster,” he teased, slowing down a fraction of the pace.

“Shut the fuck up, you do this for a living.”

“I never said I was good at it.”

“Well-“ You were interrupted by a wheeze, throat beginning to burn from the lack of oxygen. “You are, so shut the fuck up.”

We make a really good team

Though not everyone sees

We got this crazy chemistry between us

He’d taken you out to dinner to the nice Italian place on 48th East and 12th Street and gotten a table tucked back into the corner, away from other restaurant goers. You’d snuck in through the back with a reservation and miraculously, word hadn’t yet gotten out that J-Hope was out and about. With a lifestyle like his, you could never be sure, and although the fans knew about you, he kept you safe from their prying eyes.

He didn’t go all-out with the designer clothing, but the Prada dress shirt and musky cologne hinted at enough. He looked like a god who’d come down from heaven, settled across the table from you, and introduced himself as the utterly ridiculous man you knew to be your boyfriend.

He caught you staring over the top of the menu and smiled widely. “Everything alright?”

“Uh, yeah,” you stuttered over the words, cheeks reddening. “I’m good.”

He chuckled and went back to perusing the pasta options. “You’re too cute.”

It had been a long, long time since you had him to yourself. Thus, you had a lot to talk about, from life at the studio with six other type A boys and Namjoon’s destructive abilities to the latest Broadway show you had seen and the weird guy at your job that didn’t seem to take no for an answer. The waitress came by to refill your waters after the three hour mark, and long after the meal ended, you were still talking even as the last customer paid their bill and gathered their belongings to leave. That was what you loved about him, loved about your relationship- you connected endlessly on so many levels, although you were completely opposite people.

Jumpstarting your car cause the city’s a bore

Buyin’ e-cigarettes at the convenience store

Makin’ new clichés on our own little tour

Let’s ride, ide, ide

The hair was sticking to Namjoon’s forehead, and Hoseok was trying not to get electrocuted.

You sat on the sidewalk edge with your head in your hands. “Why, just- who the hell thought it was a good idea to give practically teenage boys jumper cables and go off of Google to learn how to restart a car?”

There was a stripe of grease on your boyfriend’s cheek from where he had wiped off his hand. “I don’t know, but he was a genius, whoever he was.”

Yoongi rolled his eyes, sitting next to your right on the curb. “See, I trust you two to restart my car, which is probably a mistake considering Namjoon destroys everything he touches and Hoseok might spontaneously explode from excitement.” He blew mango smoke into the air- he’d been trying to quit smoking recently, it was damaging his vocal cords.

“Dammit, Suga. This is all your fault.”

“Hey,” he shrugged. “He’s your boyfriend. You’re the one calling 911 if this backfires. No pun intended.”

Taehyung lifted his chin from where it rested from the pile of leftover boxes from dinner on his lap, sitting to your left. “Yoongi, that was awful.”

“I didn’t plan it.”

Maybe there was a god up there making sure your friends didn’t accidentally electrocute themselves, because Yoongi’s car fired once, twice, and rumbled low, puffing smoke much like its owner.

“Lo and behold, the car lives another day.” The slim blonde rapper stood, pocketing his e-cigarette. “Come on kids, get in the back. And buckle your seatbelts this time, I don’t need one of you destroying the roof along with the engine on this thing.”

You don’t have to say I love you to say I love you

Forget all the shooting stars and all the silver moons

We be makin’ shades of purple out of red and blue

Sickeningly sweet like honey, don’t need money

All I need is you

All I need is you

You had no idea how he’d planned it, but it was two days of the road, your boyfriend, and the best trip of either of your lives.

“How did you manage- you know what, I don’t even want to know.”

Your boyfriend had somehow booked two days off from work and rented the smallest camper van you’d ever seen. It hooked onto the back of his car, and had the appearance of a somewhat rusted tin can that someone forgot about for a few years, then found and cleaned, only to abandon again.

It was the cutest thing you’d ever seen, and you fell in love with it instantly.

You planned out the route the day before, covering as much as you could, stopping only to eat, sleep, pee, and replenish the gas. It was the perfect short road trip- long enough to get away from the rush, but not long enough to miss anyone. In fact, you didn’t even have to miss home- home was next to you in the driver’s seat, one hand gripping the rim of the wheel and the other interlocked with yours.

Oh, and the sex was pretty good, too.

We try staying up late, but we both are lightweights

Yeah we get off our face too easy

You promised him you wouldn’t fall asleep during the movie, but your head was on his chest, one thing led to another, and you were dozing under the blanket he’d thrown over you.

He noticed you’d fallen asleep and was about to wake you with a tickle fight, but after the week you’d had at work, you deserved a rest. He kissed the top of your head and brushed your forehead with his nose, admiring your cute little snuffles and the way you pressed yourself closer against him.

“How did I ever deserve someone like you?” he mused, kissing your nose and running his hand down your back. You sighed in reply, cuddling ever closer to him.

And we take jokes way too far

Cause sometimes living’s too hard

We’re like two halves of one heart

We are, we are, we are

Your legs were crossed over his on the couch recliner, sliding as you toppled into the cushion in a full bodied laugh. He was laughing just as hard, shoulders shaking, breathless with mirth. You glanced up at him and found that even in a crowded room he was paying attention only to you, tender eyes gazing into yours. Time slowed and you were in your own little world with him, and only him.

His hand slipped into yours, and you entwined your fingers with his. You leaned your head on the swell of the pillow and smiled. Your thumb traced his knuckles, finding every curve and edge.

Across the room, Jungkook aimed a throw pillow at Hoseok’s head, but Taehyung batted it out of his hand. “Let them be.”

Eat a pill, stay and chill, you don't need to go

I'm about to bring emo back if you leave my home

“Oppa, I have to leave for work.” You tried to pull free of his arms, which had wrapped themselves tight around your waist.

“No, stay. Please?” He widened his eyes and batted them at you, putting fists up against his cheeks, doing aegyo. He knew it was your weakness.

You huffed at him, pretending to be upset. “Five more minutes.”

I'd panic at the disco and you'd rather watch a TV show

Then I'll squeeze your booty real hard like I'm kneading dough

His mouth was on your stomach and he was crawling up your front, kissing every bit of exposed skin he could find.

He pressed his lips against the sweet spot on your neck, listening to the cries that fell from your mouth like prayers. Hands ran up your sides and down your front, settling on your hips.

You snaked your nails down his back, tracing down his spine. He tipped his head back and you took the opportunity to kiss a trail from his throat to his lips. He crashed them into yours, needing you ever more closer to him, and let out a sudden yelp.

You had cheekily decided to pinch his ass.

His gaze darkened and he grinned seductively, taking his bottom lip between his teeth and stealing a not so casual peek at your chest.

“You fucking tease.”

Pizza boy, I'm speeding for ya

We can get married tonight if you really wanna

Me in a cheap suit like a sleazy lawyer

And if you break this lil' heart, it'd be an honor

You were drunk and he was tipsy, nearly shitfaced on the living room carpet. He was dancing around with a champagne bottle microphone and glittery top hat, trying not to trip over his own feet. You were draped over the couch arm, half hanging off in a stupor. You kept bursting out into fits of giggles when the hat would fall into his eyes and he’d have to stop and fix it.

“Hobi…?” Your voice trailed off, dragging out the ‘i’ in an upwards glissando. He twirled around to find the source of his name and lost his balance, pitching backwards.

“Jagiya?” He tilted his head so the world was sideways. “You look funny.” He completely tipped over now, flopping sideways like a rag doll. “Jagiya, I love you.”

To your alcohol-addled brain, that was the most monumental thing anyone had ever slurred to you.

You crawled the length of the couch and ran your hand through his hair, welling up. “I love you too, Hoseok.” Your tongue felt heavy, and the words weren’t coming out quite right.

“Jagiya…” he swayed a little as he sat up to take you in. “I want to marr’y you, you’re my e’rrything…”

You were pulling him closer by the ends of his crumpled bow tie as the door opened and Yoongi poked his head in. “Everything alright? I heard a crash.”

“Yoongi!” You opened your arms like a toddler wanting a hug. “C’mere…”

“I’ll pass, thanks. Jesus, Hobi, how many shots did you have?”

“Jus’ one. Maybe three.” He held up two fingers.

“Oh my god, this is worse than the car incident.” Yoongi scratched the back of his neck. Hoseok rarely ever drank, so his tolerance was fairly low, and he was more than a little plastered. “You’re both going to have awful hangovers in the morning. Ah, god. I’ll get Jin.” He turned on his heel and strode out.

Yoongi poked his head back in the room. “Oh, and by the way, happy new year to both of you.”

Your love for each transcended alcohol and late-night talks, pasta dinners and scuffed high-tops. It flickered and sputtered like a flame, growing until it was a roaring bonfire. You made sacrifices and he made sacrifices, giving up personal time you could have had to yourselves to spend it with the only other person in the world.

You helped him flourish, to break out of the mold he had made for himself to discover something new- a person he had never known before. The Hoseok who cooked you dinner and kissed your nose and fell asleep beside you wasn’t the same Hoseok who rapped Cypher looking like Doctor Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, nor was it the same Hoseok who sang the tribute to his mother at her birthday party, or even the same Hoseok who made cute faces in selcas and joked with the boys. It was a Hoseok that was somewhere in the middle of all of those, a perfect mix of boyfriend and performer and goofball and everything you had ever looked for in a person, wrapped up and tied in a bow with a cute smile to boot.

So as you passed under the glow of a flickering street light, running hand in hand with the only man you’d ever come to love, your mind wasn’t on the burning in your lungs or the shooting pain in your ankle or the intoxicating drone of the city. It was on him, and only him.

You don't have to say I love you to say I love you

Forget all the shooting stars and all the silver moons

We've been making shades of purple out of red and blue

Sickeningly sweet like honey, don't need money

All I need is you

All I need is you, you

[jeonggukingdom]

splinters of love • day IV [jhs]

pairing  ⟶ jung hoseok x fem!Reader

summary  ⟶ a collection of drabbles (one for each day of April) based on prompts by an online prompts’ generator site. Specifically  ⟶  • day IV ↳ in which you decide to surprise your boyfriend with a homemade dinner failing to remember how terrible of a cook you are and him coming back to the mess you’ve made of your kitchen.

genre  ⟶ fluff

 rating  ⟶ PG-17

 word count ⟶  1.151 words

warnings  ⟶ none except light mentions of sex in the end, for the rest it’s pretty mushy and a little funny

series masterlist  ⟶ here  (links on mobile may not work, if you’re looking for all the works in this series, you can click on the “!splintersoflove” tag and you’ll find them all there!)

This is a disaster. That is the thought that crosses your mind as you look around the kitchen and finally take in the amount of disregarded plates, pots, cutlery and whatnot filling up your entire kitchen to the brim.

A heavy sigh leaves your mouth as you look around helplessly trying to make a sense of it all and getting everything back to normal before Hoseok arrives home.

Today is his birthday, a rather special one considering his recent promotion but, alas, unlike all the other years before this one, you didn’t have the luxury of spending the entire day together and celebrate it to the fullest.

That is precisely why you embarked on this silly mission of cooking dinner for him and—since apparently cooking something from scratch when you can barely boil an egg was a grand idea—bake a birthday cake for him.

When this idea had sparked up in your mind at first, all you thought about was Hoseok’s look of surprise coming home today, the tender words he’d throw your way, the compliments even and of course, the little stars dancing behind his irises whenever he’s excited about something.

Clearly, you hadn’t stopped long enough to actually let sink in the fact that you cannot cook a proper meal.

Fast forward to now and the disaster you have made of your kitchen with mere minutes left until he’s out of work and on his way back home.

You sigh in frustration, force yourself to move and get the table ready for him, lit up some candles and get the dishes on there even in their poor plating that looks nothing like the pictures.

Your heart is beating fast, making your hands tremble slightly as you rush through the kitchen trying to put the icing on the cake and finish it before he arrives, maybe even make it look somewhat pretty but, alas, it is right then that you hear the familiar jingle of keys outside your door and then, sure enough, there he is, crossing the hallway to reach you and the disaster surrounding you. Your hands quicken around the cake, your bottom lip trapped under the vice of your teeth as you hear him softly calling your name and then… A gasp.

You look up to see Hoseok standing there, a look of bewilderment across his face as you stop in your tracks and gulp down heavily, waiting for his reaction.

“Surprise,” you offer with a little embarrassed chuckle as you watch his eyes scan your surroundings, take everything in one little detail after the other.

You see his lips quirking up a little and then, his low chuckles reach your ears bringing heat to your face.

“What happened to our kitchen, baby?” He asks, starting to laugh as he dares to take a few steps forward and enter the chaos you’ve made of the entire room.

“Well, that would be me trying to make dinner for you,” you retort as you shake your head, your eyes moving to the cake on the table and its half-finished state.

It is then that Hoseok bursts into a fit of laughter that has you visibly pouting and give up on the idea of putting the final touches on his cake.

“Don’t laugh at me!” You say, reaching out to jokingly slap his chest, your smile betraying you because when you think about it, it really is hilarious. Hell, look at the damn room! It looks like a bomb exploded right in the middle of it, exactly where you are standing.

“Ok, ok, I’m sorry,” he says after a while and then, before you know it, you are safely tucked inside his arms and he is stroking your hair, kissing your head lovingly.

“Thank you for doing all of this for me,” he whispers as you hug him back, giving him a hum as a response while a small smile starts spreading on your lips.

“I wanted your birthday to be special…” you utter and he chuckles a little again, the vibrations of his chest against yours making your heart melt.

“Oh, you did, baby. I’m pretty sure I’ll remember this birthday for a very long time,” he teases you and for once, you do not mind. It is pretty funny and granted, it wasn’t really what you had pictured happening but he seems happy and that was the whole point, no?

“So…should we have dinner, now? I’m starving?”

You smile at that, quickly nod your head yes and push him out of the kitchen so you can finally savour your meals. 

Your heart feels tight in your chest the entire time, nervousness twisting your insides as he takes a bite of every single thing you prepared for him.

It’s silly but you want it to be good even if it doesn’t look perfect—or taste exactly like the original recipe.

Surprisingly enough, it is good and Hoseok eats everything up eagerly, making sure to give you compliments on every little plate or side-dish you’ve made while holding one of your hands in his.

It’s sweet and romantic and… it feels like family and that is exactly what you wanted to give him on his birthday.

It is not a wonder then that a smile is plastered on your lips the whole time, that your cheeks feel warm the entire time and that your heart beats so contently within your ribcage by the end of your night together.

You are smiling up at him with nothing but love in your gaze when he stands up and pulls you into him so that he can kiss your mouth, make sure to thank you again for loving him like this, for making all of this for him, for challenging yourself just to make him happy.

“I should go fix the mess I’ve made of our kitchen, now,” you whisper atop his lips, basking in the way his eyes fix on yours and a low chuckle shakes his frame once more.

“That’s going to be a fun time,” he whispers jokingly, shaking his head as memories of the room flash before his very eyes, “I’m sure it can wait until tomorrow, though, don’t you think?”

You look up to him then, the light shining in his eyes unmistakable, the way his hands grasp your frame tighter unequivocal, the hidden request laced within his words sounding loud and clear to your ears.

You bring your arms around his neck to pull him into you, kiss him fully on the mouth and slowly guide him to the bedroom.

“Time to claim your birthday gift,” you teasingly whisper on top of his sweet mouth before fervently claiming his lips once more.

The mess in the kitchen can definitely wait, you muse to yourself as you fall on your bed in a tangle of limbs that promises nothing but love and ardour.

Copyright © 2020 by jeonggukingdom. All rights reserved. Do not repost, do not steal, do not translate without consent.

[thebiasrekkers]

Fragmentation 0.1 - JHS

Plot: How does one measure freedom? Are our choices truly our own, or are they part of a preset design outside of our control? We all have a question burning inside of us, though few speak it out. It is the question that drives us forward, seeking purpose in our lives. What is The Matrix?

Rating: NC-17 // NSFW

Genre: Series | The Matrix!AU | angst | sci-fi | action | drama

Pairing: N/A

Warnings: Strong language, allusions of suicide, extreme angst, graphic violence

Links: FAQ || BTS Masterlist || Admin E’s AO3 || [ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ]

Word Count: 2,008

AN: It’s finally here! I know that I am still in the process of updating Make It Right, but I have been dying to get this series off the ground. Especially since no one in the fandom has written in this Universe from what I can see. So I’m super excited to share this with you all. This is the prequel to my upcoming series, Defragmentation, which showcases everyone’s origin stories and how they managed to escape from The Matrix. Because this universe is so extensive, I strongly suggest that people utilize the official Matrix Wiki as a reference point because there will be much in this world that I will not go into in-depth explanations for. Again, if anyone would like to be added to the tag list, please feel free to message us!

Tag List: @aroseforyoongi​, @prisczero​, @pinkpjmin​, @btsaudge​ (I’m adding you because I purple you; don’t @ me)

© thebiasrekkers (Admin E). All rights reserved. Reposting/modifying our work is prohibited. Translations are not allowed. Plagiarism/stealing is not tolerated by any means. Legal action will be taken in instances of theft.

Sabine saw The Code first.

Just after his fourteenth birthday, Hoseok met up with his best friend after school for their traditional birthday shenanigans. The funny birthday card, the sweet cupcake with a single candle on top, and a handmade present that he  knew Sabine spent the better part of three months putting together. That was supposed to be the plan. Nothing changed in the ten years they knew each other.

Instead of meeting on the roof after school, Sabine told Hoseok she would be waiting for him at the abandoned playground on the edge of town. He didn’t understand why she wanted to meet there, of all places. Kids didn’t go there anymore because of a major accident and the lack of upkeep made it look creepy. Going there after the sun went down just gave it eerie vibes.

When he arrived, Sabine was idly moving back and forth on one of the swings. Her eyes looked focused on something just behind him. When Hoseok turned to see if there was anyone there, he felt a chill slide down his back when there was nothing. He wasn’t sure if Sabine was trying to scare him, but it was working.

“Hey, Hobi,” she called to him, standing from the swing to meet him, “you haven’t been using your inhaler lately.”

He tilted his head slightly. Now that she mentioned it, he hadn’t been. The doctor told him to only use it when he felt it was necessary. For the last year, he didn’t feel a need. P.E. wasn’t as hard for him as it used to be and he could run four full laps around the track without feeling winded.

“No, I haven’t,” he replied, meeting her gaze, “but why bring that up, Bean?”

She smirked, brushing past him to stare out across the road. The street lights flickered to life, illuminating the pastel green landscape around them. Hoseok knew that look and it almost always meant trouble. He really didn’t want to get involved with another of her hair-brained schemes on a school night.

“Can you see it?”

He turned to look in her direction, her back still facing toward him. “See what?”

He watched Sabine’s back muscles tense slightly until she craned her neck to look at him. “You can’t see it?”

“See what?” he repeated with a sigh. “I don’t see anything except you being weird.”

For a while, Sabine said nothing. It wasn’t like her to be silent for this long and Hoseok was consciously aware of how hard she was looking at him. He was about to tell her to say something, anything, instead of staring at him like he’d grown a second head. Just then, she let out a defeated sigh and began walking away, leaving him behind.

“Hey,” he called, already starting after her, “what am I not seeing?”

“Doesn’t matter,” came her dejected response, “no point if you can’t see it.”

He wanted to keep bugging her about what it was she was seeing and he wasn’t, but Sabine clearly made up her mind about something. 

Hoseok just wished he knew what that “something” was.

“Sabine, wait!”

Hoseok watched his best friend continue her ascent up the fire escape without him. He tried not to be too loud, considering that their neighbors were middle-aged office drones who worked nine to five hours and had 2.5 kids. The last time it got rowdy in their complex, the local authorities were called almost immediately. Add the fact that they were sneaking out after curfew and it was easy to see why Hoseok was a little nervous to be raising his voice.

But Sabine kept going, as if she hadn’t heard him.

Pouting, Hoseok quickly ran up the stairwell after her - his legs feeling much lighter than they usually did. Normally he would feel winded trying to keep up with her, but today it felt easier to breathe. Which was strange, considering he’d been diagnosed with asthma since he was a child.

Then again, a lot of things were different for the past two years.

His parents told him that it was the normal adolescent hormones that popped up at the age of thirteen. “Puberty” and all that nonsense. He’d learned about it in school and, at the time, it made sense. He figured that it was just “growing pains” and nothing more.

Ever since his fourteenth birthday, however, he knew that things were changing at a pace that almost didn’t seem natural. Things were getting weirder and weirder every day. Hoseok even had a weird case of déjà vu when he thought he saw the same cat go by twice. 

That couldn’t have been the case, though. That sort of stuff wasn’t real.

Hoseok mentioned it to Sabine just a few days before his fifteenth birthday. He remembered the way her eyes almost seemed to light up - a look he hadn’t seen on her face in almost a year. The truth? Their friendship was strained and Hoseok was confused as to why. He couldn’t remember doing anything to upset her and she was the sort of person who was blunt and honest about her feelings at all times.

Though she had been surfing the net more and more. There were days where Sabine would skip out on their normal hangout time to stay glued to her computer. Her parents said she was studying or doing homework, but he knew Sabine was extremely intelligent and rarely had to put any real effort into her school assignments. Hoseok was no dummy either, but even he needed her help from time to time when it came to classwork.

The days bled into weeks and then the weeks into months. Before long, he was beginning to dread that things weren’t going to be the same between them anymore.

Then Sabine showed up at his door, telling him to come with her to the roof of their apartment complex. He wasn’t about to question her reasoning. Hoseok was just glad that she was talking to him again outside of class.

When he finally reached the top, Sabine was standing on the edge of the roof on the other side. Her dark curls whipped around her head as a sudden gust of wind blew through the air. Hoseok shivered, feeling the cold bite go straight through him. He crossed the roof to where she was, rubbing at his arms to warm them up. 

“So,” he said, trying to ignore the awkward feeling in the air, “what’s up?”

She continued to stand on the rooftop’s edge, her hands stuffed into the large front pocket of her hoodie. Sabine didn’t answer him right away and while that would have bothered him before, he was just glad to be able to be close to his friend again. If he was admitting anything to himself, it was that Hoseok missed her. A lot.

“Do you feel that?” she asked suddenly, causing him to look up at her.

“Feel what?”

Sabine sighed, turning to look down at him. “C’mon, Hobi. I know you feel that.”

He really didn’t understand what she meant, and was about to tell her as much. Suddenly, she reached down to grab his arm so she could pull him up onto the perch beside her. Hoseok almost squawked, losing his balance slightly until she tightened her hold on his sleeve to steady him. 

“Bean, I really don’t know what you’re talking about…” And he felt bad about it.

“No. I think you do.” Sabine gave him a pointed look. “You feel it, but you just don’t want to admit it.”

He sighed. “What is it I’m supposed to be feeling, Bean?”

“That this,” she said, stretching her arm out toward the cityscape, “isn’t real.”

Hoseok balked at her. “Wait, what?” He blinked once. “What?!”

This time she scoffed. “You haven’t had to use your inhaler in the last two years. You run the track regularly during P.E. and you’re able to keep up with me now.”

He opened his mouth to say something, but stopped himself because he wasn’t sure if he wanted to argue with what she was insinuating. It wasn’t like any of it was a lie. But to say that none of it was real? That was just crazy.

“I’ve been reading up on these forums and there are whispers about this place. About how it’s not real.” Sabine’s brows furrowed as she bit her lower lip, averting her gaze from his. “How our whole life is one giant lie.”

A soft ache welled in his heart. Had she been battling with these feelings of depression alone all this time? Was that why she’d pushed him away? 

“Hey,” he said gently, reaching out to grasp her hand, “that’s not true. How can you say that?”

“Because it’s true. I’ve seen the glitches. I’ve seen the code.” Her tone was a mixture of hurt and indifference, like she couldn’t decide what emotion to display to him. Sabine turned to look at him. “And you have too. You just keep pretending that you haven’t.”

Hoseok frowned. “Sabine, come on…”

“You just want to keep being blind to it, but I know you’ve seen it too!”

The truth? He had. He had seen weird things - almost like flickers and after images. He figured it was because he was overworking himself or that his body was continuing its weird pubescent changes. What other reasoning was there? If he saw the same cat twice, it was just a coincidence. If he felt lighter on his feet, it was because he was taking the time to exercise properly. If there were ripples in the glass reflecting a person that was both him and not him, that had nothing to do with anything. It didn’t mean that their world wasn’t real or that their lives had no meaning.

...right?

A rush of movement reclaimed his attention and he screamed in horror as Sabine jumped off the roof. Hoseok reached out, grabbing at her wrists. The force of the jump coupled with gravity pulling her weight down in a rush caused his knees to crash into the concrete perch. The pain was immediate and he gripped onto Sabine with all of his might. Tears leaked out of the corners of his eyes as he looked down at his best friend, unable to fathom why she’d had the sudden urge to want to kill herself.

“Let go,” she said, causing him to sob.

“Are you crazy?!”

“Just let go, Hoseok.”

When he looked down at her, she wore an expression he couldn’t place. It seemed almost peaceful; resolute. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but there was a level of acceptance plastered over Sabine’s face that was profound. It caused his heart to leap into his throat and for a moment, the landscape dissolved into an array of black with strings of green numbers and letters in every direction. Even his best friend’s image was shaped around these numbers and letters.

His knees scraped across the concrete, causing his grip to slip a little. And then everything returned to normal. Or, at least, the normal that he believed himself accustomed to.

When Hoseok’s eyes met Sabine’s once again, he saw her crying. He didn’t have to ask why. Because he already knew the answer. 

“...it’s not real,” he mumbled.

Sabine nodded, smiling up at him. “So let go.” Her fingers tightened around his wrists. “Let’s go.”

He smiled at her, leaning down a little further, and gave a small laugh. “Okay.”

Hoseok waited for her to close her eyes first. Then he closed his. When he felt her thumbs pressing into his wrists, her silent way of saying she wasn’t going anywhere, he let gravity take hold of them both. The world rushed around his ears - the wind howling from the speed of their descent. At some point, he groped blindly until his arms wrapped around Sabine in a strong embrace.

And then everything went dark.

“Welcome to the Real World.”

[thebiasrekkers]

Amaryllis: The Future || JHS

For the @bangtanscenery​ - April Showers Bring May Flowers Project in celebration of the Spring Season!

Plot: Everything always comes full circle. A soul falls into the ether, hoping to be reborn in the next cycle. If a desire is strong enough, it can manifest across space and time. Two souls reunite and are given a second chance, hoping that their love will be rekindled even stronger than it was before.

Rating: PG-13 // SFW

Genre: soulmate!au | reincarnation!au | angst | romance | drama

Pairing: Jung Hoseok x Female OC (Erica Bronwyn/Bayaraa Ehri)

Warnings: Mild language, angst, identity crisis, fluff, mentions of religion and mental health

Links: FAQ || BTS Masterlist || Admin E’s AO3 || [ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ]

Word Count: 9.0K

AN: Y'all. I just can't with this story. Part of me is glad it's over. Part of me is upset I didn't expound on this more. But they say that every writer should know when to let a story finish. So with this second part, this tragic story now has a happy ending. Thank you everyone who was patient with me and adored my work. It means so much to me.

© thebiasrekkers (Admin E). All rights reserved. Reposting/modifying our work is prohibited. Translations are not allowed. Plagiarism/stealing is not tolerated by any means. Legal action will be taken in instances of theft.

Present Day Gwacheon – Gyeonggi Province South Korea

Hoseok stared at the paperwork in front of his desk. Every so often, he would blink at it before shifting to the next page. He had so many questions, but the main one sat at the forefront of his mind. He turned another page, this time with photographs showcasing various pieces of art by a specific artist; the artist in question whose portfolio was sent to him earlier that week. 

“What do you think?” asked Namjoon.

Lifting his eyes to meet Namjoon’s, Hoseok raised a single brow. “I just have one question.”

He watched as Namjoon leaned back in the plush leather chair. “What?”

“Why me?” Hoseok returned his gaze back to the photos. “Why us?”

He heard Namjoon sigh as he readjusted himself in his seat. “Honestly, I don’t know.” 

This pulled at Hoseok’s curiosity. Namjoon was the Archivist and assistant Director to the art gallery they owned while Hoseok served as both the Curator and Director. In all the years they’d been opened, they never came across a situation like this. Their gallery wasn’t a well-known venue for art exhibitions. In fact, it ranged on the small side. Not many people knew about them and they focused on Indie Art and lesser-known artists to be able to give them a chance to be recognized and gain some viewership from the public.

But as Hoseok looked at the works in the photographs by this particular artist, he still couldn’t wrap his head around it. 

“Erica Bronwyn,” he murmured, but loud enough so Namjoon could hear, “a young, up and coming glass and metalworks artist who has gained much popularity in Italy, France, and England. Every gallery that has showcased her work has garnered a lot of success and positive response. Her stylistic focus on ancient Asian culture is a keypoint in all of her artwork, always adding a specific floral motif for each of her collections.”

“Too much?” Namjoon brushed some of his hair out of his eyes. 

Hoseok shook his head as he leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest. “I just don’t get it, Namjoon-ah.” Again, he met his friend’s gaze. “Why us? Compared to the other galleries in South Korea, we’re nobodies.”

Namjoon barked with laughter as he raised his brows slightly. “I know, right?”

Unlike his best friend, Hoseok didn’t find this funny in the slightest. As he looked back at the portfolio, he couldn’t help but feel like someone was trying to pull a fast one on him. Had he missed the memo where he signed up to be part of a prank cam show? He wouldn’t put it past Namjoon, but with Winter winding down and yielding into Spring, Hoseok wasn’t in the mood to play any kind of games.

He didn’t know why, but this time of year alwaysleft him feeling especially melancholy.

One of the assistants at the gallery, Jisoo, came into their office with a tray of tea. They thanked her and she quickly excused herself, stating that she was going to do her rounds before closing up. After she left, Hoseok curled his fingers around his chin, his brows furrowed in thought. He just didn’t understand any of it.

“And no other galleries made any offers?” He reached for his teacup. “We don’t have much in terms of money. I mean, we are able to comfortably get by but I would think other curators would be dying to get their claws into any exhibition she would bring to the table.”

Namjoon swallowed a bit of tea while humming. “Oh no,” he said, setting the cup down on the saucer, “there were offers. Really nice ones, in fact. I talked to a few of the other archivists and directors from the more well-known ones in Seoul. Her agent turned them all down on her behalf.”

“But why, is what I’m getting at.” He could hear the exasperation in his own voice. “Why us, Namjoon? I don’t get it.”

“Y’know, Hoseok-ah, I don’t know.” Namjoon reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small business card. “But her agent did say that if you had any questions to contact Miss Bronwyn directly.” Hoseok took the card from Namjoon and studied the labeling on it which had a copy of her elegant signature on it. “Her cell number is on the back.”

Hoseok stared at the number on the back. He wasn’t sure why there was a sense of reticence swelling inside of his chest as he stared at the handwritten phone number. It looked like every other scribble in a long list of scribbles he’d looked at. But as his eyes lifted to peer back at Erica’s portfolio, an ache sat in the center of his lungs and made it difficult to breathe. His vision blurred momentarily and it wasn’t until he felt Namjoon’s hand on his shoulder that he realized what happened.

He was crying.

Reincarnation was a strange subject matter. Many religions spoke of the phenomenon differently. Not all of them were wrong, but not all of them were right either. If Erica had to pinpoint which faith got it right, it would discount them all. So she simply chose to believe what was the correct one from her interpretation.

In this life, her name was Eric Bronwyn. It was the name that her parents gave her when she was brought into this world. She believed that her name was Erica Bronwyn. 

But at the age of seven, a different truth came to light. Suddenly, she was flooded with memories of a life that she didn’t recognize. People spoke to her in a language Erica didn’t understand and the faces of those people were warm and affectionate. Over the years, she studied and tried to piece together the meaning behind all of these occurrences. Studying foreign languages and focusing on the scenes that flashed in her mind’s eye.

At thirteen, Erica realized who the people were. 

Her parents. Her sisters. Her family.

And a name. Her old name. 

Ehri.

Honing her talent for arts and crafts, Erica began breathing life into the images. She painted portraits of her parents, her sisters, and the close friends that she had in that world; in that life. Erica’s mother asked her where she was painting from; the portraits of the individuals of a completely different ethnic background and culture than her own. Part of her wanted to tell her parents in this life what it meant, but Erica also didn’t want to concern them over the minor details. 

Year by year, Erica lived two lives. One was her everyday life in the current time period and the other cycled parallel to the present. Every step she took, she could see both her path and the path of Bayaraa Ehri simultaneously. When Erica walked through a busy city street and concrete sidewalks, she could also see the grassy hills and mountain krags in tandem. When it rained outside at night, Erica also saw a colorful twilight sky free from a torrential downpour.

Every single day and every single moment, Erica and Ehri existed at the same time.

For a while, Erica believed that something was mentally wrong with her. Was she deranged? Did she need medical attention for this? How would she even begin explaining the cycle of reason without sounding ludicrous herself?

On her 22nd birthday, everything came to a head.

Erica just graduated and was starting out in the world. She knew she wanted to be an artist. But she couldn’t determine which medium suited her the most. Skilled in oil painting, sculpting and watercolor, she decided to visit a few art museums and galleries across Europe. While in Italy, she saw a small gallery that happened to be open on that particular day. Upon entering, only one other patron was visiting at the same time she was.

She couldn’t see him from the back and he was staring at a large oil painting of a spider lily. It was the gallery’s main showcase and Erica felt herself drawn to the piece more than the person looking at it. The two of them stood a few feet apart from each other, eyes locked onto the painting; unable to avert their gazes for even a second.

And then the young man finally spoke.

“Have you ever heard of the legend of the Spider Lily?”

A sharp pain struck Erica’s chest at that moment. Clutching at the front of her shirt, she turned to look at him. His face looked so familiar and everything in her mind seemed to rush forward all at once. When he asked if she was alright, a different face overlapped the man’s. Before she realized it, Erica burst into tears as her heart flooded with a turbulent storm of emotions. 

The man she remembered was Hoseok. The man she met that day was Benjamin Reinhart.

Benjamin stayed with her for years and he was the first person Erica told her secret to. But he didn’t react the way she feared others would. He was calm and understanding. And then he was determined to help her find the man that her soul remembered. 

In another year, Ehri and Erica were truly one and the same person. All of Ehri’s memories were now Erica’s, nestled safely beside the ones she made in her current life cycle. It was a terrifying transition, at least at first. Erica feared that the person she was would be erased by Ehri's own memories. They were powerful, passionate, and something to admire. But Erica went through her own struggles in her life. She didn’t want those memories to be destroyed.

When it became clear that Erica wouldn’t disappear, relief washed over her. She could access Ehri’s memories at will, wanting to know more about her past and the man who encompassed all of Ehri’s heart. 

It took Erica three years to find the one called “Hoseok”. Using a good chunk of her money and resources from showcasing her work throughout Europe, Benjamin’s search bore fruit. When he came back with several pictures, she was able to point out the one from Ehri’s memories. 

There was a part of her that hesitated, however. Mostly because her physical appearance didn’t match Ehri’s. Couldn’t that have been the case with Hoseok? What if the person in the picture wasn’t the Hoseok from Ehri’s memories? 

The problem called for more research. Erica threw herself into studying the various forms of reincarnation and which cases were similar to her own. There weren’t many and while most of them were informative on the person experiencing the soul rebirth, it didn’t speak much on those who may have been reborn but had no memories of their old lives. Many texts referred to it as “drinking from the Spring of Forgetfulness”. 

There was a passage, however, that gave Erica some hope. As stated in folklore, anyone who was set for reincarnation and drank from the Spring of Forgetfulness, would retain the form they had in their previous life to make themselves recognizable to those who did not drink from the spring. If Ehri’s memories were inside of Erica, then that meant Ehri hadn’t drank from the Spring of Forgetfulness. 

The caveat? Her physical appearance changed.

Everything else would be left to chance.

Cradling the coffee mug between her fingers, Erica could hardly contain her excitement. Elation mixed with anxiety created a stormy cocktail of conflicting emotions within her. Jung Hoseok, curator of one of the smaller art galleries in the Gwacheon area, finally agreed to meet with her. She honestly wondered if he would bother giving her the time of day, even with her popularity in Europe with her works. Any art director would be suspicious since her agent made it clear that she would not want her pieces showcased anywhere in South Korea. If he didn’t accept her offer, then she wouldn’t be displaying her work in any art gallery in the country.

Her PR agents were curious why she was so hellbent on making sure her pieces were showcased at Hoseok’s gallery. Erica didn’t have a definitive answer. Just that it had to be his. The reasoning wasn’t as important as the need for them to be placed there. Her agent, Benjamin, didn’t question her further. He knew how eccentric Erica could be and as a woman of color in the metal works medium of art, it was a constant uphill battle for her. Pressing her on minor details would be pointless.

Besides, who would take her reasons seriously?

It wasn’t like she could tell just anyone that she wanted to see the man who was her soulmate.

When the small bell chimed as the door opened, Erica felt her heart slam into her chest. As she looked up, she could see Hoseok slowly enter the cafè. She held her hand up to him, waving to get his attention, and he spotted her fairly quickly. He smiled back, waving and quickly crossed the small space to reach her. 

“Hi,” she said while standing, “I’m so glad you could make it.”

Hoseok reached out to grasp her hand, shaking it politely. “Thank you for agreeing to meet with me on such short notice.”

Erica smirked, shaking her head as they sat down. “Not at all. I wasn’t sure if you would accept my offer in the first place.”

A waitress came by, offered Hoseok a glass of water, and then he placed his order: an iced Americano. He met Erica’s gaze as he brushed some of his fringe from his brows. “Well, you didn’t make it easy for me.”

“What do you mean?” Erica canted her head slightly. “Was I asking for too much?”

“I wouldn’t call it asking for too much as I would asking for not much at all.”

She was genuinely confused. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I quite understand…”

For a moment, neither of them said another word. The waitress brought out Hoseok’s drink and he took a generous sip before clearing his throat. Again, he lifted his gaze to meet hers and there was a heavy ache that seemed to hollow out the lower portion of her stomach. Ehri’s feelings were on the brink of overwhelming her and Erica had to clench her trousers to keep herself from spiraling into an emotional outburst.

“It’s been bugging me. You’re such a well-known, up and coming artist. Why are you so adamant about showcasing your work at my galleria?”

Erica bit back a sigh of relief, feeling the need for an outburst starting to melt away. “You really take the time to focus on lesser-known works of art, as well as artists. And you take pride in making sure that the best representation is given to those artists.” She pressed her fingers along the sides of her cup. “Anyone can see how much you care. It isn’t about making a profit for you.”

It was only a half truth. Erica couldn’t bring herself to dump everything that slowly filled up inside of her over the years. Not only was it not fair, it was illogical. No one wanted baggage dumped unnecessarily into their laps unexpectedly. 

Swallowing the lump in her throat, she watched as Hoseok seemed to openly gauge her response, as well as her reactions. He took another sip of his coffee and Erica fidgeted with her nails along the surface of her coffee mug. The sound of ice clinking together kept her tethered as she waited for him to say something; anything.

“Alright,” he said finally, reaching across the table to offer his hand, “then I guess we’re partners for the time being.”

Unable to mask her joy, Erica grasped his hand with both of hers and shook it. She flashed an open-mouthed smile when she saw the surprise on Hoseok’s face. It quickly melted into amusement, but Erica didn’t mind if he thought she was silly. This was just the first step. A first of many.

After they finished shaking hands, Hoseok pulled out his phone. “I’ll have the assistant director forward the paperwork to your agent.” She waited for him to send the message and then he politely set his phone on the table. “So, can you tell me what the theme of your showcase will be this time?”

This was the moment that would help determine the way the course of events would unfold. This very moment. Erica knew it and so did Ehri. She had to choose her words wisely. She had to make this count for all that she could hope for.

She lifted her cup to her lips, took a generous sip of coffee, and set the cup back down on the saucer. Her eyes lingered on Hoseok’s for a few more seconds before speaking, a smile pulling at the corners of her lips.

“Have you ever heard of the legend of the Spider Lily?”

Lycoris radiata.

Bulg-eun Geomi Baeghab.

Manjusaka.

Higanbana.

Amaryllis.

They were all names referencing the red spider lily.

Hoseok found it a little strange that Erica wanted to showcase an Autumn Equinox flower in the middle of Spring. Even stranger, this was a flower that often was used to symbolize death. When he thought back to her portfolio, none of her pieces were quite as somber in tone as the red spider lily. In fact, in the language of flowers, Erica seemed to use positive terms in each of her collections. Nothing as melancholy or tragic as the spider lily.

When he thought back to the conversation he had with her a week ago, Hoseok couldn’t quite shake the feeling of nostalgia that blanketed over him. She spoke of the spider lily’s legend in a way that almost made one think she believed such a tale. He’d heard the story a long time ago - a story his great grandmother once imparted to him. But it was just a story about star-crossed lovers. There was nothing exciting or happy about it, so he quickly pushed it from his mind.

Hearing Erica’s version, however, left him feeling unsettled. Was it the sincerity in her voice or was it something else? He wanted to know why his heart felt such a heavy weight of sadness when he thought of her face as she spoke of the flower’s legend.

Her pieces were set to be displayed at the end of May. That would give her just over three weeks to complete her showcase. When he asked why Erica chose to make her art pieces after signing contracts, she said that it was simply a way to push her creativity to the limit. Knowing there was a set deadline prioritized her pacing and helped to generate a more stylistic approach compared to the normal methods. 

Erica seemed open, honest, and didn’t appear to have anything to hide. Part of Hoseok thought this trepidation was silly and unwarranted. When he brought up his concerns to Namjoon, he encouraged Hoseok to just talk to her. He didn’t think the solution would be something as simple as that, but he couldn’t refute it until he actually tried it.

So he waited to gain access to the workshop that Erica was currently renting out to put her pieces together. In truth, Hoseok never showcased much in the realm of glass or metal art pieces in his gallery. Most of it was the traditional watercolor, oil painting, or even sculptures of clay or stone. This was a new subject, even for him. 

When the metal doors slid open, a rush of heat immediately pressed against his entire body. Hoseok coughed from the suddenness of it, using his forearm to shield the lower half of his face to keep himself from breathing in the heat. Sweat slid down his neck and bubbled along the bridge of his nose. Hoseok’s eyes began to water in response to the stifling heat. 

Something cold touched his neck, causing him to jump slightly from shock at the sudden sensation. When he turned, he saw Erica holding out a bottle of water for him. He gave a sheepish smile as he took it from her. She helped herself to a generous swig from her own bottle and he couldn’t help but admire her rugged appearance. 

A thick leather work apron was wrapped around her body, a pair of thick gloves stuffed into the large front pocket. Her jeans were worn, stuffed into a pair of combat boots. Erica’s shirt was a black, loose fitted tank top, showcasing the muscle definition in her arms. There were a few scrapes and telltale red marks that indicated she’d suffered a few scorches from the flames she used in her work. He wouldn’t have guessed she had such a physique after having seen her in person for their casual business meeting.

There was a sheen of sweat along her olive skin, giving it a warm glow. Hoseok’s cheeks flushed slightly when he realized she was now looking back at him just as intently.

“Sorry,” he said quickly, averting his gaze, “I didn’t mean to intrude during your work hours.”

Erica waved off his apology. “It’s fine. I was just about to call it a day.” She turned toward the direction of where the heat was coming from. “Douse the furnace, guys!”

Within a few seconds, hissing noises were heard and the heat radiating from one particular area began to dissipate. A few metal shutters were slid closed and lights began to blink off one after another. Only one section was still lit and it was to the far left of the warehouse. Hoseok only managed to blink a few times before he heard Erica laughing beside him.

“Would you like to take a peek?” she asked, gesturing to the cluster of things covered with simple sheets. 

“If you don’t mind?”

“Not at all,” she said, motioning for him to follow her to the far corner. 

Erica reached for the switch to one of four standing lamps. One by one, she pulled to turn them all on, then grasped a corner of one of the sheets. With an unnecessarily dramatic flourish, she lifted the sheet up and off to let it flutter to the floor.

What was revealed from beneath had Hoseok’s lips parting in awe. Glistening under the amber lighting were various glass and metal pieces situated on pedestals. All of them contained an element of the red spider lily. There was a glass orb with a spider lily design blown across the surface, coloring the opposite side with the reflection from the light. A traditional looking Asian fan containing glass and metal had the red spider lily emblazoned along the spread. Around the edge of the fan were clusters of glass spider lilies. 

There were easily twelve pieces already completed. Each a different shape, style, or ornament with the red spider lily as the focus or accent to the work. But what had Hoseok pausing in mid-swig of his water was the metal spider lily that sat on a white satin pillow. He wasn’t sure if it was the lighting or the type of metal Erica chose to forge with, but the flower had an ethereal sheen to it that nearly mesmerized him. He unconsciously began reaching for it, stopping just before his fingers could actually touch it.

A sudden shock rocketed up his arm, startling him. Recoiling, he pulled his hand back quickly. He managed a few short breaths before collecting himself. “I’m sorry…” Hoseok pressed the heel of his palm to his forehead. “I don’t know what came over me just now.”

Erica said nothing. She just looked at him, her expression giving away nothing. Hoseok wasn’t sure if he'd made her mad, but she didn’t appear to be upset with him. After a moment of unbearably awkward silence, she smiled and moved to pick up the sheet from the floor. 

“I’m glad you like them,” was all she said before covering up her artworks with the sheet. Wiping her hands along the front of her apron, Erica reached into the front pocket and pulled out a hair tie. As she pulled her thick curls back into a low ponytail, she glanced over her shoulder back at the concealed pieces. “I should be done in another week. Just in time to get everything set up for the showcase.”

Something inside of Hoseok mourned their absence once they were completely hidden from view. There was a soft ache nestled at the front of his chest and he absentmindedly rubbed at it. Erica seemed to sense a shift in his demeanor and she gently placed a hand on his shoulder to steady him.

“Are you tired?”

A flash of white erupted in his line of sight, almost blinding him. Hoseok’s ears began to ring as different voices seemed to jump around in his head. Replacing the white void was a lush green field and when he next looked up, he was staring face to face with not Erica, but a different woman. She blinked up at him as she lifted her face from her forearms, looking a little sleepy. 

Her lips parted and she leaned back quickly, gasping a little as he blinked curiously at her.

“W-What?” she stammered out, heat rushing up her neck and spreading over her cheeks. “What’s the matter?”

He was crouched down on the ground, his elbows resting on his knees. But he didn’t move any closer to her. “I was asking if you were tired.”

And in a flash, it was gone. He was back in the world he knew, his eyes wide and staring straight into Erica’s face. She was close, as if inspecting his features, and he felt her press the back of her wrist against his forehead. 

“W-What’s the matter?” he asked, his voice trembling.

She frowned, but didn’t meet his eyes. “I was asking if you were tired.” 

Hoseok’s heart practically lodged itself in his throat. 

“But now that I’m getting a better look, you don’t seem so good. It might be the heat.” Erica took a step back while reaching into her apron pocket. “I’ll call a cab for you.” Turning her back to him, she shifted her focus to her phone, leaving Hoseok dazed and confused.

His body reacted before his mind could. He quickly closed the distance between them, slamming his chest into her back. His water bottle clattered to the floor and he heard Erica gasp, feeling her back muscles tense up as he wrapped his arms around her waist. Hoseok felt vibrations along his skin and it was hard for him to tell if Erica was the one shaking, or if it was him.

“D-Director Jung?”

Her voice brought Hoseok crashing back to reality. He promptly released her, taking several steps back as he held his hands up. “I’m...I’m so sorry.”

Erica turned to look at him. However, instead of an expression of rage or confusion, he could see something akin to sadness. Why was she sad? Had he somehow damaged something that he hadn’t intended to? And why had his body reacted in such a way? It felt natural. Being that near to her felt right and safe. 

Yet he couldn’t ignore the heavy despair that sat at the bottom of his lungs.

He quickly pivoted on his heels, making his way toward the entrance of the warehouse. The echo of his footsteps reverberated off the walls, but only his. Erica made no move to chase after him.

“Do you have to go?”

Her voice blanketed every square inch of him, halting him in mid-retreat. Craning his neck slowly, he glanced over to see that Erica was holding her phone at her side. Her expression never changed, still showing that sad sense of longing that he couldn’t quite understand the reasoning behind it. Her entire being was a mystery and one that he didn’t think he’d be able to escape from.

Another voice echoed in his mind.

“I don’t want you to go.”

It was his own.

Something was wrong and he didn’t know how to fix it. All he could do was run for now. It was the easiest solution, even though he knew it probably wasn’t the best one.

“...I’ll see you when it’s time to prepare for the showcase, Miss Bronwyn. Have a good rest of your evening.”

And without wanting to risk looking back, Hoseok quickly moved down the sidewalk. There was no way he was driving back home. Not with his nerves this severely rattled. Pulling out his phone, he was already dialing Namjoon.

He needed a drink.

The showcase was successful and received tons of recognition and positive feedback. It was to be expected. Erica was far from arrogant, but she was completely confident in her own skills. If anyone had anything negative to say, it was usually in reference to her chosen style and medium than anything else. But even the harshest of critics would finally admit that her talent was forged from years of practice, study, and due diligence. She should have been proud and, in some measure, she was.

But surface level pride could only do so much to nourish her spirit.

Erica could feel her determination starting to wane. The encounter she had with Hoseok at her warehouse caused a surge of hope to ignite inside of her. But following his hasty retreat, she hadn’t been able to get in touch with him. All calls were forwarded to Namjoon and while he did his best to reassure her that everything was fine, Erica could hardly take comfort in his words.

The way he embraced her in the workshop fueled something inside of both Ehri and herself. While the passion simmered on the surface from Ehri’s memories, Erica felt drawn to Hoseok as well. Her own affection and longing to understand him stayed hovering above the surface. She wanted to know him and empathize with him, not because of the past, but for the present.

Ehri’s feelings coincided with her own. They both wanted Hoseok to heal and feel the beauty of reconnection. But it wouldn’t be possible if he kept keeping her at a distance. She didn’t know when she would be able to talk to him again outside of work-related subjects. Would there be an opportunity to bridge the gap before she was scheduled to head back to the United States?

She wanted to be able to impart something to him before what little development happened disappeared into a puff of smoke.

Her phone buzzed on her nightstand and Erica absentmindedly looked at the screen. It was Namjoon, reminding her that there was to be a celebratory dinner being held in her honor in a few hours. Benjamin told her that it would be in her best interest to attend, regardless of the outcome and of the events that transpired prior to tonight. Erica wasn’t sure if she wanted to go, but she also knew that there was a level of professionalism and decorum that needed to be adhered to. 

Picking up her phone, she texted Namjoon that she would meet them there. Sighing, she looked back at her reflection in the mirror. Erica’s appearance was so different from Ehri’s. Being half Korean and half African American at least blessed her with Asian eyes and a Korean button nose. But her olive skin, thick curly hair and heart-shaped face helped to differentiate her from the rest of the crowd. Not belonging to one community or the other, it took a lot of struggles in her life to accept and respect her origins.

Having the soul of a Mongolian woman from centuries in the past made adjusting to her life in the present a little bit harder to deal with than she would have cared to admit.

“May as well try to enjoy myself,” she muttered, moving from the vanity to begin getting ready. 

Erica opted for a simple hunter green cocktail dress. It was safe, eloquent but not too gaudy to bring a lot of attention to herself. Dolling up her face with natural makeup and a soft bronzer for the finish, she chose gold hoops and a simple gold necklace with a flower pendant to finish the look. She pulled her hair up into a high ponytail placed on the side to accentuate her high cheekbones. Slipping into a pair of simple, black strappy heels, she grabbed her purse and dialed for a cab. 

It didn’t take her long to arrive. This particular lounge was a comfortable bar and restaurant. Reservations were required to enter, as well as an appropriate dress code. After she gave the host her name, she was escorted to the back to a private dining area. 

Her assistants at the shop and Benjamin greeted her warmly. Namjoon came and shook her hand, as well as giving her a hug. Hoseok was the last to speak with Erica and his appearance seemed serene and unsettled. It was a stark contrast to the last time she saw him, having seen his visibly shaken countenance soon after he embraced her. But now he conducted himself like a professional in every sense of the word.

She was smiling on the outside, but on the inside Erica could feel the distance growing even more between them.

Everyone cheered and congratulated Erica on her endeavors. It was a grueling two and a half weeks, but everything was complete and they all reassured her that the showcase went off without a hitch. She smiled and laughed when it was appropriate, downing flute after flute of champagne. It was the only way she could keep the pain in her chest at bay. Bellies full with food and booze, Erica quickly excused herself so she could enjoy the evening air on the lounge’s back patio.

The cool breeze soothed her warm skin, allowing her a small respite from her thoughts. Smiling sadly to herself, she had to admit that the evening was fun and her time in Korea was also enjoyable. There was no sense in rushing anything, even though she could feel Ehri’s desperation to reunite with the man she loved. But didn’t Erica have a say as well? This was her life just as much as it was Ehri’s. It was unfair to push all unresolved feelings of yearning onto someone who wasn’t prepared for it.

Things had to be taken slowly. Patience needed to be grasped.

“It’s a beautiful evening,” a voice said from behind her.

Erica turned, surprised to see Hoseok standing out on the patio with her. He handed her a glass of water and she politely accepted it. Turning back to face the city, she leaned against the metal railing and looked up at the sky. Hoseok sidled up next to her, taking in the fresh air and the landscape as well.

“Thank you for hosting this party for me, Director Jung.” It was the only thing Erica could think to say at that particular moment. She didn’t want to create any awkward tension between them.

“Please, just call me Hoseok.” Erica turned to look at Hoseok, blinking in semi-shock to see him actually looking back at her. His brows furrowed and he seemed to be battling internally with something. “I want to apologize for my behavior. It was rude and uncalled for.” She opened her mouth to speak, but Hoseok shook his head, silencing all protests she might have had. “No. Truly, it was unacceptable. Instead of rationalizing what happened that day at your workshop, I let my emotions get the better of me and pushed you away.”

Her shoulders sagged as her expression darkened. She didn’t want this kind of apology. She wanted understanding and to have a conversation about what happened. Apologizing for it meant that Hoseok most likely wanted to sweep it under the rug; to forget about everything. But if his response was anything remotely close to what she was hoping for, a type of awakening, then the last thing she wanted was to have him ignore it. 

“There are these feelings I can’t shake when I’m around you.” Erica saw a pained look cross his features as Hoseok reached up to grasp at the front of his shirt. “Hell, even when I’m not around you, I’m overwhelmed. I hear my voice and I see you.” He paused long enough to avert his gaze. “But then I don’t see you. I can’t figure out the meaning behind it all and it's haunted me every waking hour since we separated.”

Erica felt her lips part slightly, wanting to reach out and hold him close. She wanted to let him know that everything would be fine. He just needed to take it slow. He just needed to breathe. 

Instead, she smiled and grasped his hand in her own. “It’s okay to be scared, y’know?” He lifted his gaze to meet her eyes. “I was scared too.”

Hoseok blinked, his confusion obvious. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve read about this sort of thing happening. It could transpire in a variety of different ways. Every case is different.” Erica squeezed his hand, pressing her thumb into the center of his palm. “What you’re experiencing is the direct result of having met me. Your mind is starting to process what your body already accepts and understands.”

This was probably too much at once. Erica could sense it from the cold sweat forming in Hoseok’s palms. But every time she felt him beginning to pull away, she continued to hold his hand even tighter. Running from this wasn’t an option. He would either choose to submit to this ideology or deny it altogether. 

Running was out of the question.

“E-Erica-ssi,” he stammered, his eyes widening with every word she spoke. It broke her heart and fueled her determination simultaneously. “I...I don’t understand what you’re talking about.”

“Hoseok-ah,” Erica said slowly, dropping the honorific on purpose. It startled her more than it did him, despite it visibly showing on his face. “When you look into my eyes, what do you see? What do you feel when you look at me?”

Silence swirled around them, the ambient noise of the city a mere whisper on the cusp of how much energy was radiating between them. Erica maintained eye-contact with Hoseok and the intensity of her gaze was enough to keep him from looking away. She needed him to see what was buried in the depths of her soul; the very person who wished so hard to be reborn just so she could be with the man she loved so much. 

The transition would be terrifying to experience, but at least he wouldn’t have to do it alone.

She watched him swallow the lump in his throat and for a split second, her vision blurred from the onset of tears she was fighting so hard not to shed. Erica couldn’t afford to break down now. Not when he was so close to voicing the truth he wouldn’t be able to escape.

“I see you. But a you that isn’t you.” Hoseok bit his lower lip and she could feel his body trembling as she continued to hold his hand. “I feel like I know you. But the me that knows you isn’t someone I recognize.” He held a hand to his forehead, his hip leaning against the metal railing for support. “He has my voice...but there’s something off about it.”

“It’s not off. It’s just different. What else?” Erica rubbed comforting circles with her thumb along his knuckles now to ease the tension. “Do you remember anything else?”

“A name.”

Erica’s heart hammered like thunder against her ribs. “...a name?”

With his hand still pressed to his forehead, he peered into her eyes and something different swirled in his dark depths. It was clarity and resignation, albeit fearful. But it sat confidently in his gaze, his eyes taking on a glassy sheen under the fluorescent bulbs from the street lamps. 

“Your name.” He took a step forward, twisting his hand so that his fingers were laced through hers. “I see you, Bayaraa Ehri.”

The tears she’d been holding back mercilessly fell, streaming her cheeks. She dropped the glass of water from her hands, letting it shatter around her feet. She didn’t care that her feet were wet or that she’d broken something. The sound barely registered in her mind. Erica never imagined this feeling of reconnection would explode inside of her. It was like Ehri’s soul was singing with renewed vigor; her second breath of life finally given the opportunity to breathe ; to be.

She smiled through her tears, relishing in the feel of Hoseok’s hand resting against her cheek. His thumb stroked affectionate circles beneath her eye. The look on his face mirrored the face of the man Bayaraa Ehri loved so much.

A face that Erica Bronwyn loved as well.

“I see you too, Wang Hoseok…” She reached up to brush her fingers through the fringe of his hair. “And I see you, Jung Hoseok.”

Not wanting to destroy the moment, all Erica could do was bask in the glow of her own feelings. Not Ehri’s, but her own sense of joy and fulfillment in that very instant. Hoseok pulled her closer and she felt her heart rate escalate until she was forced to close her eyes. She felt his breath along her skin as her body pressed against his; melding into it.

And then his lips brushed against hers, sending her whole world into a tailspin.

Her mouth parts slightly at his silent insistence, tasting his lips. It was a mixture of champagne and her raspberry lip gloss. Erica’s heart thumped painfully in her chest, nearly causing her legs to buckle in agony. She felt Hoseok’s fingers curl even tighter through her own, his other hand having vacated the planes of her face to press along the curve of her lower back. Erica’s own hand gripped at the base of his neck, the roaring thunder of her heart exploding in her ears.

Until there was stillness. Silence. So quiet that both body and soul could savor the moment; to, once again, garner meaning to their existence. 

Erica Bronwyn was scared.

Bayaraa Ehri was terrified.

Both were elated beyond measure.

“Oh, that?” He stood from the small stool situated at her bedside and retrieved the box from the table. After he sat back down, he opened it and showed her the metallic spider lily inside. “Do you like it?”

She nodded.

“I’m glad.” He closed the box. “It was supposed to be your wedding present, but I figured this would help lift your spirits some.”

Ehri sighed a little, her brows furrowing. “But didn’t you say that the legend of the Spider Lily is a sad story?” She pouted again. “Why would you give me such a thing as a wedding present?”

Hoseok reached out to pet her head. “I bought this from an artisan who claimed that this flower is different from the actual spider lily.”

“Different how?”

Again, he opened the box to show her the lovely flower. “He said that anyone who possesses this flower is guaranteed to be reunited with their love in the next life. It will not come to pass like in the tale of Manju and Saka.”

“How can he guarantee that?”

“I asked the same thing,” Hoseok said while laughing. He closed the box. “But we will just have to see when we are reborn again, hm?” He stroked her cheek with his fingers. “I want to love you again in our next life, Ehri-ah.”

Hoseok cried out, gulping a lungful of air as the sheets clung to his upper body like a second skin. Bolting upright, he stared wide-eyed at the space just below his wall clock. The ticking of the second hand sounded like muffled gunshots in his ears. His breath came in heavy, short intervals and it took him a moment to actually calm down.

Groping in the dark for his phone, he barely managed to snatch it off the nightstand. The screen instantly lit up to show the time in blinding white numbers.

4:37AM.

Everything felt like a dream. Or, rather, like he was dreaming while still awake. When Hoseok was asleep, he didn’t feel like he was actually sleeping. Instead of dreams, his mind was filled with memories in colors so vibrant they were nearly blinding. His world, the world he’d always known, felt so faded and seemingly colorless in comparison. This was a life; his life. His old cycle that was now blossoming with life and fervor, threatening to burst clear from his body and soar to the skies.

Hugging his chest, he leaned forward and shuddered. A cold sweat peppered across his back and neck, dripping from his nose. His hands felt clammy and cold, no matter how much he rubbed his arms up and down to soothe the overwhelming sensation wrapping around him. 

He needed to get up. He needed to move. His body would lock up and go into shock if he didn’t. 

Stumbling from his bed, Hoseok felt the sheets wrapping around his ankles. He collapsed in a heap on the floor, his breathing escalating as he tried to sit back up. A spike of pain struck at the forefront of his mind, causing him to cry out. Fluttering petals swirled around the bedroom as a ray of morning light seemed to spread in a cone through the large bay windows.

“Seobang-nim?”

Hoseok hummed.“Yes, what is it, Pu-in?”

She smiled, closing her eyes. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Everything.” Ehri gripped her fingers a little tighter around his. “Thank you for everything.”

Hoseok moved, causing Ehri to lift her head up so she had to look at him. While one hand held hers, his other rested along her neck. “Pu-in…”

“I love you,” she whispered to him, leaning forward to press her lips against his.

White heat burned his eyes, causing him to cover them with both hands. He screamed, the painful throb beating mercilessly against his temples. All he could do was curl up into a ball, writhing in agony as the images continued to flash in rapid succession like a camera shutter. 

Laughter.

So much laughter.

Worry.

Hope.

Determination.

Resignation.

Overwhelming despair.

Rolling over onto his side, he clutched the letter in his hands as his tears soaked into his silk pillow. “No,” he whispered, his voice barely recognizable, “I don’t want to be here to see it alone. I don’t want to see it march on without you here with me.”

And then, the proverbial dam inside of him broke. Everything surged into him all at once. Every single memory of the past pulsed through him. He remembered everything. 

His life as a member of the royal household’s branch family. 

His parents. 

His brothers. 

The street market vendor who sold him the spider lily forged in metal.

"I find it hard to believe that you don't," teased the vendor, which caused Hoseok to cant his head slightly, "but let's just say that this flower isn't an ordinary spider lily. The one who forged this flower said that the tragedy still exists inside, just as the legend dictates. But unlike Manju and Saka, the one who holds this flower will be able to reunite with their loved one in the next life. Guaranteed."

And the moment he first laid eyes on Bayaraa Ehri, the woman he loved.

The woman he would continue to love even into their next life.

Sobbing into his hands was all he could do at that moment. In the midst of his pain, he was experiencing everything simultaneously. It was sensory overload at its finest.

And then there was absolute quiet.

Still. Quiet. Clarity.

Jung Hoseok and Wang Hoseok were now truly one.

Clambering to his feet, he quickly made his way to the bathroom. He showered, brushed his teeth, and got dressed. Faded jeans and a gray hoodie comprised his attire, but he wasn’t trying to impress anyone. As he left his apartment, the security lock beeping as the door closed, he beelined for the elevator. He was already dialing for a cab before the lift dinged to signify he was on the ground floor. The driver greeted him warmly, despite the late hour, and Hoseok did his best to remain polite. But desperation nearly superseded his need to be amicable. 

He gave the driver the address to Erica’s hotel and as they made the drive, he called her. Her sleepy voice answered and Hoseok felt like he’d grown wings. Erica’s voice, to him, sounded like Ehri’s. And Ehri’s voice was now Erica’s. He finally understood what she meant when she said she’d been afraid too.

It must have been like this for her. It must have been like this for her for a long time. 

“Erica, it’s me.”

“Hoseok-ssi?” He could hear shuffling on the other line. “Is everything alright? Are you hurt?”

He smiled, unable to keep his joy hidden. “I’m almost at your hotel. Can you meet me in the lobby?”

“Uh, sure. Let me get dressed…”

They said their goodbyes just as the cab driver announced they would be arriving shortly. He quickly paid the man, dashing toward the front entrance of the hotel. The sliding glass doors barely had time to open as Hoseok squeezed his way through them. The elevator dinged and the doors parted to reveal Erica dressed in a large sweatshirt and leggings. She was barely able to open her mouth and say his name before he pushed into the elevator, knocking her back against the wall. His lips immediately sealed over her own and she gasped, reaching up to grip at his shoulders while steadying both of them at the same time.

He broke the kiss, allowing them to breathe, and he couldn’t help but admire the pink tinge settling along her olive skin. She huffed, her chest pressed against his. He was having a difficult time discerning whose heart was beating the hardest.

“H-Hoseok,” Erica managed to say, her brows lifted in surprised, “what’s the matter?”

“I remember it all.” Hoseok watched her eyes widen even further and he leaned forward to press his forehead against hers. “I remember everything .” She moved to cover her mouth with her hand, but he grabbed it, keeping it away from her lips. He wanted to kiss her again. He wanted to breathe in her scent; her very soul into his being. “I’m me. I’m the me of today and yesterday.”

Hoseok watched her bottom lip quiver as tears filled her eyes. “E-Everything?”

He nodded. “Everything.” 

They both inhaled sharply, their lips seeking eachother out. He could feel her body trembling as he held her tightly against her, not caring that he was shedding tears himself. And as their lips parted once more, he leaned down so their noses were barely touching - the swell of her mouth still so close to his own. 

“Wang Hoseok missed her desperately,” he whispered against her lips, “and Jung Hoseok needs you desperately.”

He could see the trepidation visibly fleeing from her gaze. It must have been the one thing that she was still fearful over; the one thing that she didn’t want to give a voice to. Because he was afraid for the same reason. 

If one spirit had more power over the other, would the other cease to exist?

But he could sense it. His consciousness and the consciousness of his old self were nestled side by side. They were choosing to coexist in this moment and for every moment that would transpire after. Half of his heart longed for Bayaraa Ehri and the other half was pulled in Erica Bronwyn’s direction. Two halves of a whole begging to be acknowledged and listened to.

Again, Hoseok kissed her full lips; drank in her very being. She didn’t have the same face as Ehri, but her soul was there - standing alongside the woman who lived in this life.

The life of Erica Bronwyn.

“You’ve dealt with this longer than I have.” He smiled against her mouth. “I’m afraid that I’ll have to request your assistance on the matter.”

Erica pulled back a measure and he took a moment to sweep his hands over her tear-stained cheeks. She did the same for him. “That’s fine,” she whispered, shifting forward so he was forced to move in the opposite direction with his back pressed against the wall. Her hand reached over to the different buttons on the elevator’s panel and she hit the one for her floor. The lift shook and then moved upward. “There’s no rush.”

Hoseok smiled openly and she, in turn, smiled as well. They were still themselves. But they were also two people pulling the past behind them. With Ehri’s illness came a sense of despair that was often smothered with the hope that a miracle would transpire. But when the end came, it was swift and merciless. Their time was short, but their love was magnanimous. Everything felt rushed, just like the manner in which he’d regained the memories of his old life.

There was no sense of urgency present. Erica and Hoseok could both take their time as pieces of their souls found solace in reuniting again. They had the opportunity to love and fall in love all over again.

The true miracle was now. 

He pulled her close, nestling his face into the crook of her neck as she wrapped her arms around his. Again, he drank in her scent, pressing a hand against the back of her head - his palm resting along the thick nest of curls. For a small eternity, Hoseok held her in his arms. And seconds before the elevator dinged for the appropriate floor, he lifted his head back only to turn his face to meet Erica’s lips again, savoring the taste of her as if for the very first time. The steady drum of their hearts beat in time with one another.

Now that we have the time...