#its not her fault its the system... and students being dicks but still mostly system
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Your ChatGPT IT class story is absolute insanity what the fuuuuck? But good on you for refusing to engage with it until you were forced to 🫡 respect
yea fuck IT classes are just so half-assed and dysfunctional here, like school system is awfully outdated and just doesn't fit the technological development nowadays. it's always do one thing, show it to teacher, get a grade and call it a day because what else can you learn there. I remember having an entire 45 min long class just about creating a new folder and then making more folders in that folder
#I really pity the old lady we had IT classes with in high school though#poor woman had severe complications after covid and my classmates just kept bothering her with shitass music and videos of a guy farting#its not her fault its the system... and students being dicks but still mostly system#cant say i agreed with her all the time. especially that geepeetee task#or making students design promotional graphics for the school for free as a normal class task#she was still one of the sweetest teachers in my school imo. allowing boys to play their music without punishment#because she didnt want to punish anyone really. may life and that shit job have mercy on her#cloud has been asked
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I love it when people talk about things they're passionate about, tell me something cool!! Anything you want, just something you find interesting or want to talk about :D
hello anon my beloved, I am in a bad mood so you will be receiving a passionate, yet lowkey of pissy rant about why villainizing bakugou makes me wanna vomit and its NOT just because I'm a dumbass kinnie :)
tws: child abuse (emotional and physical), near death expierences, bullying, kidnapping, suffocation, lots of trauma in general tbh. if you've seen bnha then basically just keep all the general triggering plot stuff in mind incase i missed any warnings
also, note: I havent caught up on bnha in a minute, I'm at like the start of the war arc but I barely remember shit there tbh so like. probs missing new stuff. also bnha spoiler warnings lol
so, for starters, the homie bakugou has like,, a good handful of issues that come from his childhood that explain why he's an ass. he was always praised and never actually reprimanded for being a twat which led to him having a huge ego that ended up fucking him over majorly. this ego was something that his mother acknowledged him having, but literally didnt try to fix it with anything other than violence. see here:




like, instead of trying to help him, she hits and insults him, which is probably what led to his weird inferiority/superiority complex. being constantly told by others that you're outstanding and one day you'll be a top hero because you're rude and aggressive and then going home and being hit by your mother for those exact same behaviors is bound to fucking confuse a child.
so like, now that we've established that its definetly canon that his mother (parents? I think he said parents at some point but masaru doesn't seem like the type so 🤷) hits him though we don't know how much or how often (though if bakugou was as much of a little shit back then ((which as far as we've seen- he was)) then it was probably often), lets talk about how regardless of all that 1) hitting your kids as "discipline" not only doesn't work but is abusive lol like idc if it's spanking/popping them on the mouth for talking shit, slapping them across the face "on occasion", etc. shits not okay 2) hitting your kids!!!! does not work!!!!!!!! it is literally PROVEN not to work!!!!!!!! hitting a child who has done something wrong doesnt teach them to stop doing something it teaches them to be scared of you, which will cause the child to withdraw, removing part of their support system (assuming said abusive parents would even offer that up) and will most likely lead to them thinking they're a bad person, not that their actions were bad, which are two different things. so, ya know, that would clearly have an effect on a kid. like, as someone with a mother who reminds me all too much of mitsuki: I have acted like a complete shitbag and taken my anger out on people to feel better in the past because of the way my mother treated me. though it was nowhere near what bakugou did, I still know first fucking hand what a mother hitting and insulting her child will do, especially if they have no proper outlet for that (friends, a safe place to vent) which bakugou never fucking had.
theres also the fact that just talking to your kid the way mitsuki does (saying it's his fault he was kidnapped because he's weak, all while hitting him) is not??? okay?????? ive seen people arguing that this was just a joke in poor taste but like her son was KIDNAPPED and even if it was a "joke" there's literally NO WAY that would EVER?? BE FUNNY??????? she just sounds like the kind of parent who at the very least says shit without thinking that would traumatize bakugou (because being told right after being kidnapped it's your fucking fault by your mother is absolutely traumatizing) but it comes across as her being emotionally abusive.
mitsukis character as a whole comes across as a shitty mom who doesn't realize she's a shitty mom and thinks bakugou being an ass isn't at least partially her fault even though she's admitted to realizing he has always had an ego problem and doing nothing to fix it except for hitting and yelling which obviously did nothing but make him just as loud and violent as she is.
this is obviously not the entire reason why he's a dick but he was never properly taught that the shit he was doing wasn't okay and people not stopping it and/or praising him endlessly even tho he was a bully is basically the same as encouraging it, thank you very much.
moving on from that, let's talk about bakugous other traumas and how he naturally responds to them. hint: it's with either full blown panic or a fight response (verbal or physical, though usually physical. also sometimes it's the panic followed by the fight response.)
so far in bnha (keep in mind that I am not caught up, I've only read up to the beginning of the war arc and i barely remember those bits so) bakugou has...
nearly died via sludge villain (he was unable to move and was being suffocated to death- keep this in mind)
lost for the first time ever and against deku of all people (this nearly sent him into a full blown panic attack, likely because of that sexy little inferiority/superiority complex combo. think of this as like. gifted kid burnout lite. he has always been the best of the best and now suddenly he is being beaten by somebody who has always been weaker than him, which immediately makes him start thinking he was never actually that good, he's actually a fucking failure, a goddamn fraud)
won the sports festival by default (bakugou counts this as yet another failure because todoroki didnt try his best. had bakugou lost to todoroki full strength, he would've taken 2nd place with a bit of bitching, but he still wouldve taken it rather than refuse the medal as it would be a reminder that he failed. instead of accepting that like UA shouldve, the staff chained and muzzled him on live television and then had all might, his fucking idol, force the medal into his mouth. remember the sludge villain incident and how he couldnt move and was suffocating to death? yeah.)
been kidnapped because of the way he reacted to winning during the sports festival (he was aggressive and tried to refuse the medal because he felt he didnt deserve it and was then retraumatized by being chained up and muzzled. his "villainous attitude" was a fucking trauma response, do not tell me otherwise)
was then chained up once again by the LOV after being kidnapped,,, do we see the "retraumatize bkg" theme yet?
"ended all might" (he literally blames himself for all mights retirement because had he just not have been weak, all might wouldve had more time, right?)
my point with all of these is that bakugou has been severely traumatized and has then had his trauma responses (aggression, fight) used to further demonize him. not all people with trauma react the fucking same and the way the fandom just refuses to acknowledge anger as a valid form of trauma response is gross as hell.
moving away from that topic, bakugou has literally never had any actual friends, they all just used him and didn't care about him which absolutely will fuck up a kid, especially one who already has all that other shit going on. bakugou deadass never had a support system or people to help him grow as a person, let alone properly work through his fucking emotions so it's not surprising that he would take out his bullshit on the one person who tried to help him especially considering he saw dekus actions as him thinking he was weak. bakugou was raised to not seek help, he thought somebody strong shouldnt ever need it, so for somebody like deku (who bakugou percieved as weak and helpless already) to offer up help? deku must obviously think bakugou is even weaker than him, what other explanation could their possibly be!
speaking of which, there's his heaps of insecurities that he basically hid by being a twat and bullying others for most of his life. kid was so insecure he bullied deku for fucking years cause he thought deku looked down on him, thought he was better than him, etc. and that only got worse bc his idol then decided to take deku in, train him and even give him his quirk. there's probably some shit im missing but still he's got issues and always has had issues. that being said, he's actually improving and working them out now which is what makes him a really good, interesting character. it's also nice to see a character who is a dick without some tragic backstory (like his backstory is sad but its not the classic "my family was fucking slaughtered and i turned into a raging bitch who murders people" type shit) bc that rarely happens and it's like most assholes don't actually have a story like that they're just assholes lol
now lets talk improvement! lil bitch has been getting better since he got into UA and im so happy abt it!! he had a rough start what with deku suddenly having a quirk and all but like he is really improving now and it highkey shows that bakugou just mostly needed people who 1) didn't constantly praise him and actually criticized him instead 2) actually fucking punished him doing stupid shit and 3) some motherfucking friends
Since going to UA he's gotten actually feedback from teachers about his weaknesses and how to get stronger, he's lost against others, hes been told he has a shit attitude and is a dick, told he should be nicer and leave deku alone, etc etc. He hasn't gotten in trouble too much with teachers but others give him shit for what he does and aizawa has punished him too, while still acknowledging that bakugou is an amazing and dedicated student, something which no one else had done up til that point. and uh???? homie actually has friends who like,,, don't use him and also call him out when he's a dick. like specifically kirishima has done this shit and him and bakugous relationship is clearly very healthy and beneficial for the both of them. makes me feel all happy n shit, ya know
bottom line is: while it is absolutely valid to dislike or even hate bakugou because he is a massively flawed person who has been very cruel to others, villainizing him for the way he acts which in large part seems to be from a lack of guidance, a shitty mother and heavy amounts of trauma, is fucking awful. his actions cannot be fucking excused, he needs to apologize and continue to grow, but he is also a fucking teenager, who is just now being told that the way he acts is unacceptable by people who dont fucking abuse him (and I swear to god if any people who think mitsuki isnt abusive interact with this fucking post I will fullstop hardblock you, I do not fucking care) and actually treat him like a normal person instead of some prodigy child or someone who needs to be fixed.
people are free to debate my points or whatever bc I know some of this stuff is up to interpretation but like. dni if you're just here to say you hate bakugou for xyz reason or that he's irredeemable. also especially dni if you compare him to fucking endeavor yall bitches make me gag.
anyways thxs for the ask anon <33 sorry this is a kinda messy info dump lol
#shit self#asks#boku no hero academia#long post#bakugou katsuki#yes i am a bakugou kinnie shut the fuck up /lh#this is all /nm btw its just so much easier to make my long posts aggressive yk#this is just how i talk irl but Better Formatted#info dump#kinz#anti mitsuki#discourse#bangerz
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In Your Eyes
Summary: You’ve had a weird connection with Hoseok since the two of you were children. Living thousands of miles apart didn’t stop the two of you from being able to see what the other sees, hear what the other hears, and feel what the other feels. This bond between you two brought you closer together, but not close enough to touch. So when Hoseok asks to meet you in person, you begin to wonder what could happen if your proximity gets a little closer.
Pairing: Hoseok x Gender Neutral Reader
Warnings: Mentions of depression, mentions of attempted suicide, mentions of death, mentions of abandonment, cursing
10.3 k
A/N: Italicized dialogue is Korean. This is my first fanfiction (but not my first story) so bare with me, please. I hope you enjoy!
“I’m scared,” You whispered to him, your voice hoarse. It was dark in your room, but when you blinked your eyes, you weren’t there anymore.
The room was bright and open, unfamiliar to you. The boy turned to you, an expression of shock on his young face. He was taller than you, and lanky, perhaps a year or two older. His eyes, narrow and frightened, focused on you. He opened his mouth to speak.
You shut your eyes, afraid that if he spoke he would be real. When you reopened your eyes, he was still there. He stood in your dark room, at the foot of your bed. This time, he appeared more startled.
“Where am I?” He cried, his tongue foreign to you. You were young and stupid, but you figured quickly he was speaking and Asian language.
“Who are you?” Your voice was meek. You drew the covers of your bed up to your chin, covering your frail body.
When you shut your eyes again, he disappeared. You were left alone in your empty room. You waited. You shut your eyes again. You reopened them. But you were still alone.
-
“I was seven,” You paused, phrasing the statement as though it was a question. You drew your knees up to your chest and wrapped your arms around them. “When I first saw him.”
“In a dream?” She queried.
“Sure,” You responded.
“So you’ve seen him again?”
“Mostly in my dreams.”
“Mostly?” She quirked an eyebrow, her expression quizzical.
“Shit, I mean,” You buried your face against your knees for a brief moment, trying to think of a logical answer that didn’t make you sound insane, which seemed pointless, considering you were sitting in your therapist’s office. Being a little bit insane was essential to be here. “I don’t know.”
She seemed to consider you for a moment. You could see a dozen questions brewing in her mind through the curious glint in her eyes. “Tell me about him.”
“Is she asking about me?” He said, his voice echoing in your mind. “I wonder what you’re going to say.”
You wondered too. But a part of you was afraid - afraid to disclose the intimate details, afraid of what she will think of you…
“Can I go home now?”
“We still have time, Y/N.”
You shifted in your seat. “I want to go home.”
“Are you okay, Y/N?”
You hated the way she always ended every sentence with your name, as though she were trying to goad answers out of you that would make you sound crazy. But you were crazy.
“You’re not crazy,” He said.
“Of course I’m not okay, I’m here, aren’t I?” She looked at me with an expression of concern that you did not care for. Sometimes you loved her, because she was an angel, but sometimes you hated her, because she also tended to be a patronizing cunt. “Can I go home now?”
“Please make another appointment, Y/N.” She said, following you with her gaze as you gathered your bag and rushed out of the room. You didn’t make another appointment.
It’s been fifteen years, and you’ve begun to understand some of what he says. You picked up after several years of pining to understand him that he spoke Korean. He was quite excited when you chose a Korean language course as your elective in high school, but he didn’t start to learn English until you were well into college. Of course, you didn’t mind. His unrelenting thoughts began to make sense to you now.
“You didn’t tell her about me?”
“Go away, Hoseok,” you mumbled under my breath. Sometimes you became restless and annoyed after therapy sessions - Hoseok knew this, but it didn’t stop him from asking if something was wrong.
“Are you upset?”
You had continued learning Korean when you were in college, so at this point you pride yourself in your fluency. His English, well, it was improving, but you couldn’t deny it was cute when he spoke broken English.
“I’m sorry,” He said.
It was noon, as it was made evident by the sun glaring down on you, which meant it was three in the morning in Seoul. “Why are you awake?” You spoke as I took off down the street to the bus stop.
You stopped in your tracks, and found yourself standing in the center of what was clearly the Bangtan dance practice room. You let out an exasperated sigh, and turned to face him. Hoseok leaned against one of the mirror walls, his chest rising and falling in accordance to the panting breath he let out. “Hoseok,” You began. “What are you doing practicing at-” You paused to check the math in your head. “Three o'clock in the morning?”
Hoseok seemed shocked to see you standing five feet in front of him. You watched as his eyes scanned your body, and then as he stood. Suddenly the two of you weren’t in his dance studio anymore. You stood on the sidewalk, the bus stop looming over you. A line of people began to gather nearby. You turned to study them, briefly, and pressed your phone against your cheek to feign a phone call. You learned the hard way that speaking telepathically to someone across the world made you look kind of crazy. Boy were high school students dicks.
“You look nice today,” His voice almost a whisper.
You examined yourself - you had decided to spice things up today and wear a black and white patterned, button up shirt with your usual black jeans and funny socks.
“I thought I’d dress up for my therapist, let her know that even though I’m an emotional mess I can still dress myself,” You paused, scrutinizing Hoseok. “But that’s beside the point. You should get some sleep.”
“I know… It’s just - the comeback is just around the corner, and we just barely came back from tour, so everything is hectic- I just want this to be perfect.”
“Hobi,” You paused, your attention diverted when the bus came into view. “You’re perfect. Go sleep, asshole. I gotta catch the bus.”
A small smile found its way onto Hoseok’s face, and you returned it.
It’s been fifteen years since you first saw Hoseok, standing in his room, in your room. You never understood why the connection started when it did, but when it did, you began to see him, hear him… feel him. But he was thousands of miles away. He handled it a lot better than you had. He didn’t tell anyone when you first saw each other, or after. You were an idiot to tell your parents that there were voices in your head.
-
You and Hoseok worked out a system. It was adapted and refined over several years, and eventually you had settled into the life of a night owl, staying up well up to four in the morning to communicate with Hoseok, while he went about his day. So sometimes you’d get minimum four hours of sleep, but you made up for it by taking naps throughout the day. It may not have been the healthiest system, but you were more than willing to make sacrifices for your best friend. For years Hoseok complained, worried that the erratic sleep schedule you had built would be detrimental to your health, to which you would answer, “Hoseok, every kid my age lives off of five hours of sleep and copious amounts of caffeine. It’s cool. It’s hip. Get with the times, grandpa.” Eventually, Hoseok resigned to letting you go to bed at ungodly hours, but it didn’t stop him from voicing his concern every now and then.
“Y/N,” Hoseok was waiting in an airport terminal for his flight to America, where he and the rest of BTS were set to start their comeback-comeback tour, following the release of their new album. The other boys were scattered about the seating area, some on their phones, some trying to get in some sleep before the flight. “It’s two in the morning, get some sleep.”
“You’re not my dad,” You muttered under your breath, ducking your head. You were sitting at your desk, watching the latest k-drama Hoseok recommended to you, and eating chips. “You can’t tell me what to do.”
“Go. To. Sleep,” He reiterated in English, shaking his head in disbelief as you turned to look him in the eye, defiantly popping another chip into your mouth.
You took in your surroundings, examining the airport terminal. They were in a private waiting room - it was just Hoseok and the other boys. “You’re about to leave for America, aren’t you?”
The question had Hoseok buzzing. Since BTS had first taken on the U.S. when their popularity was taking off, it had never occured to either of you to suggest meeting in person. But this time, the question was on the tip of Hoseok’s tongue. He desperately wanted to see you - for real. But he swallowed the desire and decided instead to casually ignore the prospect, something the two of you had been doing for years.
“Yes! I’m excited.”
“Hobi,” You paused the show and swiveled around in your chair to face him, sitting on the edge of your bed. “This show is crazy. I can barely follow what’s happening. I got so confused as to how everyone is connected that I had to make a diagram-” You pulled out a sheet of paper where you had written all of the character’s names, connected by lines and descriptions of how they were related to each other. It was an intricate web that spanned across the entire paper, color coded and deeply detailed. Hoseok examined the paper, grinning like a Cheshire cat.
“But it’s good right?” Hoseok said, leaning back.
“It’s goddamn amazing,” You added. “It’s your fault I’m not sleeping tonight. This show is too good.”
At the realization that you wanted to continue your show, Hoseok pouted, his eyes glistening and his bottom lip jutting out, “Aw, I wanted to talk to you.
God, I’m so whipped for this boy, you thought to yourself.
You briefly turned around to shut your laptop, “Okay, I have to take a break anyways. My eyeballs are about to melt from how much I’ve been watching.”
Hoseok smiled, “I’m happy you like it.”
You never really pressured Hoseok to speak English - you were more than happy to speak Korean with him. But since you had made the effort to learn Korean, he insisted on doubling his efforts on learning English, especially now that BTS was becoming increasingly popular worldwide. So, you attributed his desire to learn English to his love for his English-speaking ARMYs, and not because he wanted to make it up to you for learning a whole new language.
“Your English is getting better,” You said, reaching into the bag of chips again. “Hey, do you think you can eat these chips?”
“What?” Hoseok looked baffled, mostly with your train of thought, rather than the plausibility of eating chips that were located across the world. “I don’t think so.”
“Come on, try it,” You held the bag towards Hoseok. He looked at it warily at the way you expectantly shook to the bag of chips at him, waiting for him to make a move. Gingerly, Hoseok reached into the bag and grabbed a chip. He held the chip in front of his face, his eyes on you. A part of Hoseok wanted to throw the chip to the side and touch you instead, because this was stupid, right? Why were you so fixated on what would happen if Hoseok ate a chip that was thousands of miles away, when you could be wondering what would happen if the two of you touched?
You held your breath as Hoseok ate the chip, watching the way his Adam’s apple bobbed when you swallowed. You were so focused on watching him eat the chip that you entirely missed when he finished, your eyes locked on his mouth.
“Y/N,” Hoseok deadpanned.
“Holy shit,” You tugged on the roots of your hair, utterly flabbergasted. “He ate the chip. This is amazing. Earth-shattering.” You stood abruptly, your hands still tangled in your hair. Hoseok wished it were his hands in your hair. “You just ate a chip from six thousand miles away. Holy cow! Do you know what this means? Because I don’t? I-” You froze, examining the way Hoseok looked at you. There was something in the way he looked at you with a gentle smile that sent a chill down your entire body. “Hobi, how are you not freaking out? You just- you ate the chip.”
Hoseok shrugged, seeming too calm for what just happened.
You slumped back into your chair, staring at Hoseok with disbelief. The fucking audacity of the guy to just act nonchalant after eating the chip and stare at you like you were the only person in the world.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
Hoseok quickly averted his eyes, a blush creeping onto his face. Suddenly the two of you weren’t in your room anymore - you were in the airport seating area, and you noticed that the other boys were beginning to collect their carry-on bags.
Namjoon turned to Hoseok, looking tired. “Come on, Hobi,” He said. Namjoon eyed the chair that Hoseok had been speaking to, knowingly. “You can talk to Y/N when we land.”
You stuck your tongue out at Namjoon, making Hoseok erupt in laughter. Namjoon eyed him warily, and walked out of the room with his bag slung over his shoulder.
“You should go,” You said, nevertheless.
“Stay with me on the plane,” Hoseok said, pouting his lips.
“Yah, I thought you wanted me to sleep,” You said as-a-matter-of-factly.
Hoseok’s eyes widened with realization. He had completely forgotten it was nearing three in the morning for you. Time always became obsolete when the two of you were together, which is why it was so easy for you to stay up so late to talk to Hoseok.
“Plus,” You added. “I’ve never been on a plane.”
“You told me you came on a plane when you moved here,” Hoseok countered.
“That doesn’t count - I was a baby, Hobi,” You recalled your parents moving from (insert your hometown/country) when you were little. Your dad left shortly after you first met Hoseok; you remember Hoseok being there when you realized your father wasn’t going to come back.
Suddenly, you found yourself sitting in a luxury seat next to Hoseok, on an airplane. Panic began to jet through your veins, and Hoseok was quick to notice. “Go to sleep,” He beckoned. How he deeply desired to take your hand in his, give it a reassuring squeeze.
“Right,” You muttered under your breath. “Yeah, thanks Hobi.”
“For what?”
It occurred to you that Hoseok didn’t know you were thinking about your dad, about how Hoseok never left your side when your dad did. You felt embarrassed, thinking about it, but a part of you wanted Hoseok to know how much he meant to you, so you turned and looked deep in his eyes. “For talking to me, I guess.” God you were awful at explaining your emotions. You began to pity your therapist for having to handle your emotionally inept ass.
Hoseok smiled nonetheless, “Your my best friend, Y/N.”
Suddenly, Yoongi, who had been walking down the aisle to take his seat, froze, his head whipping to face Hoseok. “I’m not your best friend?”
-
It was a warm evening, so you lay in bed in one of your dad’s old t-shirts and a pair of boxer shorts. Your skin felt thick with heat, and the fan in the corner of the room did little to relieve you. You began to sweat, and your chest rose and fell exasperatedly. Desperately, you rubbed at the Korean sheet mask on your face, collecting the cool liquid on your fingers and depositing it across your neck.
You turned over onto my side and scanned the room before you. You were in a hotel room. You knew that Bangtan was touring in America. You knew because you were excited to see them live, finally. “What are you doing, Hobi?”
Hoseok gasped, but there was a sense of tiredness to it. You figured he had been practicing again, but that wasn’t the case. You stood up, removing the sheet mask from your face and tossing it aside, just in time to see Hoseok scrambling on his bed.
“Y/N!” Hoseok screeched, his face glowing vibrant red. His t-shirt had ridden up his chest, exposing his well defined stomach, and he was now making an effort to hide himself. His sweatpants were hurriedly pulled up his legs, and were loosely hugging his hips. You quirked an eyebrow at the sight of his hardness through the sheer fabric of his sweatpants.
“Were you masturbating?”
Hoseok drew his knees up to his chest upon noticing you staring, and you tore my gaze away from the sight, a shit-eating grin on your face.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” You said, your voice husky and laced with amusement. “Is this your hotel room? Nice.”
You turned around to scan the room, when he called you. “Wait, Y/N, I’m sorry.”
“Why are you sorry?” You asked, turning back to face him.
“Because,” He paused, bowing his head in shame. “I was thinking of you. That’s why you showed up, isn’t it?”
You froze in your tracks. “Oh,” You whispered, your voice cracking.
Hoseok suddenly moved from his bed, and stood before you. His face looked panicked, and you could see tears forming in his eyes. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I just- I was thinking, and then all of a sudden I was thinking of you, because I always think of you- but- not like that I mean! I mean I always-”
“Hobi…”
“I’m sorry, I’m making you uncomfortable-” Hoseok collapsed on his bed and buried his face in his hands.
You stood before him, frozen, admiring his form. He dug the meat of his palms into his eyes, and you worried that he might cry. “I’m disgusting, you must think I’m disgusting.” He mumbled to himself.
You had never touched him. You was always too scared to, and you thought he was too. The two of you never knew what would happen if you touched; a dozen ideas of what might happen always raced through your heads. But in that moment, as you looked at him, flushed from touching himself, you wanted to touch him.
Hoseok looked up, and you knew by the look of shock in his teary eyes that he half expected you to be gone. “What are you doing?” He croaked, watching as you approached him.
“You think about me?” Your eyes shifted, scanning his face for some form of answer. Hoseok opened his mouth to speak, but he couldn’t seem to form any coherent phrase as he watched you with wonder, and a little bit of panic, in his eyes.
It was quick, the moment you touched him. You lifted your hand and placed it on his shoulder, and he felt… real, but you knew he almost wasn’t. There was an airy feeling to his flesh, as though he were only halfway there. So you squeezed his shoulder, and watched as his breath hitched and something flashed across his eyes.
“Y/N…” He whispered.
Gently, you pushed him onto his back and, in one quick motion, straddled his hips.
“Do you think of me like this?”
“Yes…” He moaned, gripping my hips. “God, yes.”
You leaned down, hovering over him, your faces centimeters apart. You knew that if you did this, the touch would be real, your connection would be real. You moved closer to him, holding your breath. Your lips ghosted over his, and you could hear him suck in a breath.
“Y/N…” Hoseok tightened his grip on your hips, and slowly slid his hands up your sides, and across your back.
For a moment, everything was still, the two of you unmoving in anticipation, until...
“J-Hope!” Jimin flung the door open, stepping inside with a wide stride. His eyes shifted over the room, until they landed on Hoseok, lying on his back against the bed. “It’s time to...go. What are you doing?”
Hoseok shot up, staring at Jimin with a wild look in his eyes. “Jimin!”
“Look, bro, we gotta go. We’re going out for dinner, remember?”
“Right, yeah,” Hoseok nervously patted himself down, feeling warm where you were once sitting.
“I’m sorry for interrupting, your, uh...” Jimin said, leaning against the door frame, a knowing look on his face. Jimin’s gaze shifted to Hoseok’s lap, where he was still visibly excited against his sweatpants. Hoseok followed Jimin’s gaze, and promptly threw a pillow at his bandmate.
-
“Did you wash your hands?” Jimin quipped, a shit eating grin on his face.
“Yah, Jimin-ah!” Hoseok griped, swatting at his dongsaeng’s arm.
“What’s going on?” Jin chimed in, leaning over the table to examine Hoseok and Jimin with piqued curiosity. “Why are you fighting?”
Hoseok opened his mouth to speak a quick excuse, but Jimin beat him to it. “Hobi-hyung is embarrassed because I caught him masturbating.”
Jimin wiggled his eyebrows at his friends, the shit eating grin never abandoning his face. Hoseok shrunk in his seat, burying his face into his hands.
“Yah, Jiminah, we’re eating! I don’t need the mental image of Hobi masturbating when we’re about to eat,” Yoongi groaned.
In all honesty, it was nothing the boys hadn’t joked about before, but the embarrassment was tenfold knowing that Hoseok was about to kiss you when Jimin rudely interrupted, even if the other boys didn’t know that was what was bothering him.
“Why are you embarrassed, Hobi? It’s not like we don’t do it too,” Taehyung, who sat to Hoseok’s right, mentioned, placing a comforting hand on Hoseok’s thigh.
“It’s not that,” Hoseok muttered. “I was with Y/N.”
The room stilled. Everyone bore an expression of shock, and a bit of confusion. Jimin, the most curious (having seen Hoseok in his flustered state), spoke first, “Wait,” He paused for emphasis. “You were with Y/N? In the hotel room?”
Hoseok dropped his hands from his face and found six pairs of eyes drilling holes in him. “Yes?”
Jin was the first to laugh, his windshield wiper guffaw erupting the silence of the room. The others joined in on a chuckle, and Jimin leaned over to Hoseok and spoke above the laughter, “I’m so sorry, bro. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
Hoseok let out a noise of protest and promptly began banging his head against the table. He felt one of his bandmate’s cool hands against his neck, probably Taehyung’s, and stopped the assault on his forehead. Hoseok pressed his cheek flat against the table, facing his friends, “We were about to kiss...”
“The way I saw it, it looked like you guys were going to do more than kiss,” Jimin announced. The table erupted into a chorus of ‘ooo’s and ‘aaa’s.
“You saw nothing!” Hoseok snapped, rising from the table.
“I didn’t know you guys could, like,” Namjoon motioned with his hands. The others mimicked him, motioning vulgar things. “Touch.”
“I didn’t know either,” Hoseok admitted. “We never tried before.”
“But you wanted to, right?” Taehyung queried. “Touch ‘em, I mean.”
“Of course!” The boys giggled at Hoseok’s response. “They’re just so-” He let out a distressed noise, burying his face in his hands again. “But after the first time I was too scared to try again. I didn’t think they wanted it too.”
“Wait,” Jin pauses, and everyone turns to face him. “The first time? I thought today was the first time.”
Hoseok’s face reddens with embarrassment and a little bit of shame. “I may have touched them before… They were drunk, so they don’t remember.”
“Hoseok!” Taehyung shrieks, slapping Hoseok’s arm. The others begin to shout out their disapproval, and it dawns upon Hoseok what he was insinuating.
“No! I didn’t take advantage of them! I swear! They were drunk and having a panic attack, so I just hugged them!” Hoseok shouted above everyone else’s complaints.
The table quieted down, and they all took what Hoseok said into consideration.
“And they don’t remember?” Jimin said. “That sucks, hyung.”
Hoseok pouted, remembering the night. He had awoken to the sensation of his heart pounding, and found you curled up on the floor crying. It wasn’t the first time you had a panic attack, nor was it the first time he witnessed it. But it was the first time Hoseok did something about it. He picked you up in his arms, and let you cry into his chest. It was terrifying, the electrifying sensation of actually touching you, even though you were thousands of miles away.
“Where are they right now?” Jungkook asked from across the table.
Hoseok looked at the maknae, as did everyone else. “I don’t know,” He answered honestly. “Home, probably. It’s late.”
“What do they look like?” Jungkook asked.
“Yah! Why do you have so many questions?”
“I’m just curious,” Jungkook pouted, slumping in his seat. “We all are, honestly. Your friend says he’s communicating telepathically with a person across the world and you get curious. ”
The others nodded in agreement.
“You’ve known them longer than you’ve known us, and we don’t know much about them. Sure, you talk about how they have the cutest laugh but-” Jin commented, and was abruptly cut off by Yoongi.
“We want to know the important stuff,” Yoongi finished, much to Jin’s displeasure.
“Well, they live here. In the States, I mean,” Hoseok began. “They’re twenty-two. And they… they’re beautiful.”
The boys’ faces lit up upon seeing the bright smile on Hoseok’s face. “You really like them, Hobi,” Namjoon prompted.
Hoseok didn’t hesitate to say, “I really do.”
It was silent for a while, everyone smiling at Hoseok, and Hoseok smiling, thinking about you.
“So when are you gonna meet her? You know, kiss her for real?” Yoongi said, bluntly.
-
It was late, and sleep had eluded you for hours. You wondered what Hoseok was doing, if he was thinking about you, about what you had almost done. You had wanted to feel him again, so you laid in bed and connected your phone to your Bluetooth speaker, listening to the gentle, heavy beats of Hoseok’s playlist. The two of you always shared music with each other, it was another connection that the two of you shared.
“Hi,” Hoseok stood in your room. You shot up in your bed to look at him. He was dressed in a black coat over a plain white t-shirt and jeans. He looked so handsome, his hair falling over his eyes in a boyish way.
“Hi,” You whispered, your hands restlessly brushing your hair, then finding their way to rest on your lap.
“You’re still awake?” Hoseok eyed the clock mounted on the wall - it was well past midnight.
“So are you,” You responded. His smile was small, and you saw it briefly before he ducked his head to hide the blush on his cheeks. Hoseok began to play with the hem of his shirt for some time, until you stepped forward, garnering his attention.
“Hi,” you repeated. He looked you in the eyes and smiled wide.
“Are you listening to my playlist?” Hoseok quirked, realization dawning upon him as he took in the surroundings of your room. It was a small room, a part of a studio apartment that you had moved into during your first year of college. Hoseok always said he was proud of you for becoming independent so young, moving out of your grandparents home as soon as you started college.
You said nothing as he moved towards where the music was coming from, and promptly began to dance. You sat back down on the edge of your bed, watching him. A laugh escaped you, and it made Hoseok smile like the sun. Hoseok continued to dance, moving across the room until he stopped in front of you. He seemed to hesitate, his fingers hanging in the air between you.
“Hobi…”
“I want to see you,” He whispered. “I want to see you for real.”
Your eyes grew wide with shock. “Shit, Hobi,” You said.
Hoseok stepped back, a crestfallen expression replacing his once happy face. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-”
“No, Hobi, I want to see you, too!” You said, standing from your bed and taking his hands in yours. Hoseok looked at where you connected, absolutely loving the feeling of touching you, even though it didn’t feel all too real.
“Okay,” He said, squeezing your hand. “Okay.”
“I actually,” You paused, ducking your head. Hoseok moved his hand from your grasp and lifted your chin so that you were looking him in the eye. Hoseok smiled, and urged you to go on. “I bought tickets… to go see you in LA. I wanted to surprise you.”
Hoseok’s jaw dropped, then his initial expression of shock was replaced with a blinding smile. “Oh, jagi,” He said, pulling you into an embrace.
It was overwhelming, feeling Hoseok’s entire body pressed up against yours. Like your body was tickling all over, in a wonderful way. He wrapped his arms around your waist, burying his head into your hair. It had never occurred to you before how much taller he was.
But as quickly as he hugged you, Hoseok pulled away, a bashful smile on his lips. “Sorry,” He said.
“No, don’t be sorry,” You reached out and gently cupped his face. His eyes shined with adoration.
“I want to kiss you, but,” Hoseok paused. “I want to kiss you for real.”
“Okay.”
-
“Okay, Pam, here’s the deal,” You said, sliding into your therapist’s office with a Capri-Sun in one hand and a Slim Jim in the other. “Jim?” You jerked the treat towards the woman who sat across from you. She shook her head. “No, okay. Suit yourself- Anyways. I’m freaking the fuck out. And the last thing I need is for you to throw me in a mental hospital because I’ve got tickets to go see the love of my life this Friday, and there is no way in hell you’re going to ruin that for me.”
“Why would I throw you in a mental hospital, Y/N?”
“Because,” You began. “Because, what I’m about to tell you is going to make me batshit crazy.”
Pam uncrosses her legs in anticipation.
“Okay, so it all started when I was seven years old-” Pam’s expression lit up, and you could tell she was excited you were finally opening up to her about the mysterious boy you were seeing. “I woke up in the middle of the night because I heard music, and it was weird music - like, Korean, right. And I wake up, and there’s this boy in my bedroom, and I don’t know who he is. And he doesn’t know who I am, and we’re both confused, because all of a sudden I’m not in my room anymore. I’m in his room.”
“Was this, perhaps, a nightmare, Y/N?”
“What-no, this was real. I mean, after that, I started to dream about him, and I still dream about him, but I could tell when I saw him in my sleep and when I saw him when I was awake.”
“You saw this boy when you were awake?”
“Yes, I know, I know, you’re probably starting to think I’m some schizo, but I swear I’m not. I’m getting into the juicy part,” You pause to drink from your Capri-Sun. Pam looks at you with piqued curiosity. “I didn’t see him for several years after that. Then one day, in the sixth grade, I was in the locker room and he just… showed up. You can imagine what kind of reaction I had to seeing this boy from my nightmares in the locker room. I screamed… a lot. The other student’s thought I was going crazy. I scared the crap out of the poor guy. And then they sent me to the principal’s office because I had a mental breakdown and ‘was seeing things’ and they called my mom and the school therapist.”
“Did he speak to you?”
“Yeah, he was saying all sorts of things in Korean,” You slumped in your chair and eyed Pam. She was looking at you strange. “Anyways, school sucked after that, as I’ve told you before. The student’s spread rumors about how I was crazy, I didn’t have any friends, kids bullied me - the whole enchilada. The next time I saw him was when he was in school, and at that point we realized that this shit was real. So, I told my mom, which was a huge mistake. I love my mom, or, loved, whatever. She was trying to help me, but it was really fucking scary going to all of these psychiatrists and psychologists and therapists when you’re going through puberty and have, like, zero friends. And they’re all talking to me like I’m crazy, which I’m not! I was just a scared little kid.”
You paused, tucking your Slim-Jim into the pocket of your jean jacket, and slurping the last of the Capri-Sun. “I was fourteen when I first stayed at a mental hospital.”
“I remember,” Pam spoke, her voice soft. “And the boy?”
“Oh, right, him,” You sat up, leaning your elbows against your knees, and cupping your face in your palm. “We started talking after I saw him for, what, the third time? Even though we didn’t understand each other, we would talk to each other, about… stuff. He was nice. He grew up in Gwangju, in Korea. He loves to dance; he was in a dance crew when he was a kid. He was my only friend. I know that sounds pathetic, but he was. After everyone thought I was some crazy schizophrenic, I kind of became that person. Like, I became crazy, just because everyone told me I was. But he wasn’t scared of me.”
“Do you still speak to him?”
You nodded. “But he stopped speaking to me when I went into the mental hospital. He told me he was afraid that if the doctors continued to see me speaking to him they would only keep me there, so,” You paused, remembering the lonely nights in the hospital. You had lost your only friend, and you had begun to think that he also believed you were crazy. “He was two years older than me, and he had just auditioned to be an idol trainee, so he didn’t talk to me after I got out either, because he was so busy.”
“An idol trainee?”
“Yeah, he was always practicing dance and stuff. Sometimes I would see him, but he wouldn’t notice me.”
“When did he speak to you again?”
“I was fifteen, he was seventeen,” You began to explain. “This was just after my mom died, and I was living with my grandparents at their apartment. They had a pool, and I would go swimming alone a lot. It was the only time when they weren’t watching over me. I loved them, they were nice to me, but it felt the same as it was with my mom. I let them watch me, I let them think I was crazy, I took the pills they gave me.
“Anyways, so I was swimming, and then he showed up. At this point, I had started high school and was learning Korean, because, why not. I’d watch a lot of k-dramas and everyone thought I was a Koreabu. I still didn’t have a lot of friends, I still didn’t have him either.” You paused, remembering the day, the way you felt embarrassed in your swimsuit, in front of a seventeen year old boy. “He looked sad. I could tell he was pitying me. He told me he was sorry that my mom died. He told me he was there at the funeral, but I was to gone to notice.”
“I’m curious, Y/N,” Pam said. “Why did this start when you were seven years old?”
“Hold on, I’ll get to the theories when the story is over. I’m about to get into the really sexy stuff,” You continued. “Anyways, he told me that he experienced my grief, that his friends were really worried because he was always sad. It felt kind of cool to know someone else was experiencing what I was experiencing. I mean, I felt bad that he had to go through that because-”
“Because you tried to kill yourself?”
You winced when Pam mentioned it, but you supposed that you had set yourself up for that. “I had never seen him so scared…” You whispered, mostly to yourself.
You were sixteen and you had spent the past year trying to gather the willpower to cry over your mom’s death. Hoseok said it broke his heart to see you so… ambivalent about it. The therapy didn’t help, and a part of you wondered if your grandparents hated you because you didn’t grieve over the death of your mother. After that incident you stayed in the hospital for months, all the while Hoseok never left your side. But you didn’t speak to him, not until you were out, at least.
“Sometimes I wonder why he tolerates me.”
Pam didn’t say anything.
“Things were sort of normal after that. High school was a nightmare, but I made friends with some of the people I met in the hospital. Most of them died, so it was just me and him. My grandparents never worried too much about me because I’d pretend to be on the phone with my ‘friend from Korea’.” You laughed at that, and Pam smiled. “It had never occurred to us to see if we were really there, so one day I asked if I could Skype him. I was seventeen.”
Pam’s eyebrows shot up at that.
“And we did, and it was nice. We would email each other and stuff. He would send me pictures of his dog, Mickey. Fast forward a couple years later, he asked to see me in person, and I’m freaking the fuck out, Pam. I’m freaking out!”
Pam didn’t know what to say. She was stumped. Flabbergasted. This had been one roller coaster ride of a therapy session. A part of her genuinely wanted to believe you weren’t crazy, but the therapist inside of her was screaming at her that these were clear symptoms of a schizophrenic. “You mentioned you have tickets to-”
“Go see the love of my life, yes.”
“Is this that boy?”
“That man, Pam, and a delicious one too.”
Pam laughed awkwardly.
“Are you sure it’s a good idea to go see him?”
“You think I’m crazy,” You said. “You think this is all a figment of my imagination and I’m going to go see him and kidnap him and make a suit out of his skin? I can show you the pictures he sent me of his dog. They’re real.”
Pam said nothing, only shifting awkwardly in her seat.
“I’m not joking, Pam,” You said, pulling your phone out. “I have the receipts.”
Pam leaned forward when you brought up the text messages you shared with Hoseok. It was faulty evidence, it could have been just messages with another friend you were planning on meeting and teaming up with to skin this poor boy into a suit, but Pam decided to give you the benefit of the doubt, even if it meant risking her job.
“He’s an idol,” She stated, almost a little excited.
“Yeah, and you can’t tell anybody. You know, doctor-patient confidentiality.”
“I think maybe we should talk about your relationship with your father. It seems that this… connection with this boy started around the time your father left.”
You sat there, staring at Pam for what seemed like hours. “Yeah, I think that was enough for today.”
-
Hoseok was pacing. He was nervous, to say the least. His heart was pounding and his palms were sweating. You were going to see him, live, in concert. He didn’t know why it hadn’t occurred to either of you before to do this. You had known each other for fifteen years, for fuck’s sake, and neither of you brought up meeting each other in person. Leave it to Yoongi to be the first one to suggest the idea. Of course, you admitted that you had wanted to go to one of his concerts before, but you could never afford a ticket, and so you never brought it up. But now, things had changed, you had started saving up since BTS’s popularity in America skyrocketed. Hoseok couldn’t be more nervous.
“Hoseok, calm down, bro,” Namjoon said from across the room, where he had been watching Hoseok pace back and forth for the past ten minutes.
“Yeah, the concert starts in half an hour. You don’t want to mess up because you’re nervous, do you?” Taehyung mentions. Namjoon shoots Taehyung a ‘shut up’ look, and Taehyung cowers in his seat. “Sorry,” He mumbles.
Hoseok hadn’t even thought about the concert, or the potential of messing up because his mind was on you, on where you were sitting, on how you were watching him, and how you had promised to meet him after the concert.
Hoseok had stopped pacing, his eyes locked on a spot on the floor. The others watched him with concern painted on all of their faces.
“Have you spoken with them since that night?” Jimin asked.
Of course the two of you had spoken. Not a day went by where you didn’t. Whether you woke up in the middle of the night because Hoseok was practicing or in the middle of an award show, or he woke up because you were singing along to a song playing in the supermarket. They always saw each other every day, even if sometimes it was just in passing because Hoseok was busy being an idol. And when they didn’t see each other, they were no doubt messaging each other.
“Yeah,” Hoseok paused to sit down, then promptly stood back up and continued pacing. The last you had spoken was last night, and since then you had sent him selfies of you getting ready for the concert, taking the bus to the concert, waiting in line for the concert. Hoseok wondered if you were nervous, too.
As if he read Hoseok’s thoughts, Jimin said, “Don’t worry, Hobi, I’m sure they’re nervous to see you too. They like you. It’s pretty obvious considering you guys were going to do it the other night-”
“It was just a kiss!”
Jimin held up his arms in mock defeat.
“What’s got you so worried, Hobi? Tell us,” Namjoon inquired.
Hoseok thought to himself, what has got him so worried? To be quite honest, he was absolutely terrified to see you. Before the two of you had nearly kissed, things were clear between the you - you were friends, best friends even. There were no lingering questions of ‘Do they like me back?’ ‘Are they only attracted to me?’ ‘Should I ask them out?’ Hoseok collapsed in his seat and stayed there.
“I think I’m going to have a panic attack,” He muttered, much to the alarm of everyone else.
“Are you okay?” You said, standing in the corner.
“Yah!” Hoseok cried, spazzing out in his place.
The boys all jumped up in shock, Taehyung muttering under his breath, “He really has gone crazy.”
“What are you doing here?” Hoseok implores, turning to face you. The boys had seen Hoseok communicate with you before, years ago when it they were just beginning to discover about the connection. But what was once watching with worry at their potentially crazy Hobi was now watching with wonder at the astonishing bond between you two. The boys were always excited to see you and Hoseok talk, cooing over the way Hoseok always got flustered when he spoke with you. It was evident to anyone in the room that Hoseok liked you.
“I was kind of freaking out, and I hoped you were too, because I’m really nervous-” You said, playing with the hem of your shirt. Hoseok admired the way you looked today - you were dressed in jeans and a t-shirt with the word ANPANMAN written across the front. On your head was a headband decorated by two Mang plushies. You looked so goddamn cute Hoseok was blushing.
“I was nervous too,” Hoseok admitted.
“Nervous? He was about to shit himself,” Yoongi added, much to Hoseok’s dismay.
Hoseok glared at his friends, who were all laughing at him. He quickly ducked into the hallway, and, upon finding a bathroom, hid inside.
“Oh, are you going to finish what you started the other night, Hobi?”
“Yah! Y/N!” He complained, leaning against the sink. “I just wanted some privacy…”
“I know,” You said, your voice calm now that you were with Hoseok. “I was just joking.”
“Where are you?” Hoseok asked.
The scene shifted from the bathroom to the audience, where thousands of ARMYs were gathering to watch BTS perform in just a matter of minutes. Hoseok was startled, at first, but he found peace in the sound of your giggle. “You’re really here,” Hoseok whispered, caught in awe of the fans.
“Of course I am,” You answered. “I’m excited to see you.” You added with a shy smile.
Hoseok faced you, and in the crowd of fans, he only saw your face. He noticed you were holding your phone up to your ear, a habit you picked up to avoid the punishing stares of strangers. You saw Hoseok hesitating, so you continued. “You’re going to do great, Hobi. You always do. Fighting!”
Hoseok’s smile rivaled the sun, that you were absolutely positive about. “Did I ever tell you, you have the most beautiful smile?”
“Y/N,” Hoseok said, his voice barely above a whisper. He reached out and gently cupped your face with his hand, a smile on his own. “I love you.”
“What-”
There was a knock on the door.
“Hobi!” Namjoon called, and Hoseok was gone. “It’s time to go.”
You found yourself sitting alone, among the thousands of ARMYs. Hoseok had disappeared. The hand that was holding your phone fell to your lap. You stared at the back of the ARMY in front of you, but all you could see was Hobi, saying he loved you. You didn’t know how long you sat there, your jaw dropped until it began to ache. It didn’t even occur to you to contact Hoseok again. Before you knew it, the concert had begun.
-
You sat on the curb, tears still running down your cheeks. The concert ended minutes ago, and you had filed out of the stadium with the other ARMYs and into the streets. Now you waited, staring into your lap. You inhaled deeply, only to let out another sob. The concert - seeing Hoseok - had been overwhelming. But they were tears of joy, you told yourself. You were crying because you were happy you saw BTS, not because you were having a panic attack, not because you were worried Hoseok regretted what he had sad. He hadn’t contacted you since then, after all.
A dozen thoughts began to ring through your head, which was throbbing, when your phone dinged with a notification. It was a text message from Hoseok. You figured he must have been too busy to contact you, so he sent a message instead.
Hobi <3: I’m sorry.
You didn’t respond, confused by his message.
Hobi <3: I shouldn’t have said that. I know I messed up. If you don’t want to meet anymore, I understand.
Your heart began to race. What the fuck?
You: What the fuck, Hobi? Of course I want to see you.
You sent the message. Not a second later you began typing furiously.
You: Did you mean what you said?
Of course you loved Hoseok. You’d known the son of a bitch since you were seven, and what began as a crush when you were in middle school developed into something more over the fifteen years you knew each other. He was your best friend, and you loved him. You loved his smile. You loved how he was sunshine incarnate. You loved how he wasn’t afraid to be sad around you like he was afraid to be in front of others. You loved how he made you laugh. How he made you smile. How he made you feel. You loved him.
Hobi <3: ...yes.
You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.
You: I love you, too.
Hobi <3: Oh thank God!
Hobi <3: I mean- Can I see you?
You tucked your phone away and shut your eyes. It was always easy contacting Hobi when you were calm, or, in some cases, in a state of absolute panic.
There was no one around you. The nearest crowd of people were maybe fifty feet away, so it was relatively easy to hear to gasp Hoseok let out when he saw you, sitting on the curb. You opened your eyes, and saw him standing before you, still dressed in the pair of jeans and white t-shirt he had been wearing at the end of the concert.
“Hey,” You said.
“Hi,” He replied, a bid out of breath.
“Where are you?”
Suddenly you weren’t outside the stadium anymore. You were inside, in a dark hallway. You could see the boys walking down the hall. One of them, Jungkook, stopped to stare at Hoseok. “What’s up, bro? Why are you just standing- Oh,” He paused to look at where Hoseok was staring. “You’re talking to Y/N. Sorry.”
“You can talk to Y/N later, we gotta go, Hobi,” Yoongi whined from Hoseok’s side. “I want to get back to the hotel and eat.”
“Right, the hotel,” Hoseok turned to you. “When can we meet?”
You shrugged.
“Stay where you are, I’ll find you,” And he was gone.
You drew your knees up to your chest and watched as Hoseok hurried down to hall, jogging past the other boys. Hoseok rushed towards a set of double doors, pushing through them and into the parking lot. There were vans waiting to take the boys home, and they promptly filed into them. Hoseok slid into the passenger seat of one of the vans and turned towards its driver - his manager. He pleaded with Sejin-hyung to help him find you, which you enjoyed watching immensely. The way Hoseok awkwardly kowtowed in the cramped passenger seat, repeating how, “I have to see her, Sejin-hyung. She’s the love of my life,” had you smiling from ear to ear. Sejin relented with a loud groan, and started the car.
Jin, Yoongi and Namjoon sat in the back, while the maknaes had piled into the other van and were promptly following them as they drove through the parking lot in search of you, sitting somewhere on a curb watching cat videos while you waited.
Hoseok stayed alert, his eyes darting across the parking lot in search of you. “You know,” Yoongi broke the silence that had settled over the van. Sejin-hyung had stopped complaining about Hoseok and his love life some time ago. “The fans might see us and crowd the car if we keep driving around the parking lot. Shouldn’t you guys meet later, like, at the hotel?” He ended his statement with a wiggle of his eyebrows. Hoseok ignored Yoongi, and Namjoon smacked him on the arm, and Sejin-hyung responded with, “Aish, you boys stress me out.”
Yoongi was right, because not a second later a wave of ARMYs descended upon the van. Sejin cursed out loud, stopping the van, and Hoseok began to whine. “No, no, no, no, NO!”
Meanwhile, your attention was caught by a van pulling up in front of you, its door sliding open.
“Hey, Hobi,” Jin called from the back. Hoseok hardly listened, instead sliding down in his seat with a cry. “I’m on the phone with Jimin-hyung. They just picked up Y/N and are heading to the hotel.”
“WHAT!” Hoseok spun around in his seat, screeching at the top of his lungs. “If Y/N is stuck in a van with those clowns they’re going to scare her off-”
“Wait, hold on, there is no way I’m letting you bring a girl back to the hotel, Hobi. I don’t care if she’s the love of your life-” Sejin went on.
“Oh come on, Sejin-hyung,” Yoongi continued. “The poor guy stayed a virgin his whole damn life because he’s in love with this girl. Give him a break.”
“Yoongi-hyung!” Hobi cried.
-
The ride to the hotel was a hoot. Jungkook was more than ecstatic to practice his English with you, and Taehyung and Jimin had more than enough questions about you and your relationship with Hoseok-hyung to last the entire car ride to the hotel. Jin stayed on the phone with the boys, having questions himself, and refused to let Hoseok speak with you because, “You’ve spoken with her for the past fifteen years, Hobi, give us a chance.” And when the boys learned that you were fluent in Korean, the embarrassing stories of Hoseok commenced.
Meanwhile, Hoseok drowned in misery in the passenger seat of his van, all while listening to Jin’s windshield wiper laugh every now and then, and, on occasion, an embarrassing story that had Hoseok reaching over the van to swipe at Jin.
Your van was the first to arrive at the hotel, having left the stadium before Hoseok’s. You insisted the boys go up to their rooms to rest, that you would wait in the lobby to meet Hoseok, but Taehyung wouldn’t have it.
“It’s so great that you’re real and Hoseok isn’t crazy,” Taehyung spoke, cuddling up against you. Jimin sat to your right, and Jungkook was sitting across from you. The other van had been caught in traffic, so the four of you, plus some staff, were waiting in the hotel lobby.
“I can’t wait to tell my therapist. She thought I was crazy too. If she didn’t love me so much she wouldn’t have let me come to the concert,” You added.
The boys laughed, and you joined them.
“You know, Hoseok is really in love with you,” Jimin said, resting his head on your shoulder. “He won’t shut up about you.”
You smiled madly at that, your mind wandering back to Hoseok. The entire car ride had been spent talking about you, so you hadn’t really thought of him enough to form a connection. But then there he was, sitting next to Jungkook, wringing his hands together. You didn’t say anything, only smiled at him. Hoseok looked up at you, and returned the smile.
“Y/N!” Jin yelled, barreling towards you. Namjoon and Yoongi entered behind Jin. Before you could search for Hoseok, you were blinded by Jin’s broad shoulders, his arms wrapped around you. “I’m so glad to finally meet my daughter-in-law!”
“Jin, what the fuck?” Yoongi said, standing next to Jungkook.
“What, it’s obvious Hoseok and Y/N are going to get married. I mean, he did save himself for-”
“Where is Hobi, by the way!” Jimin cut Jin off, much to Jin’s displeasure. Everyone turned towards the entrance, where Hoseok stood, wide-eyed and staring at you. You felt the pressure of the room, but you also felt the electricity of being in Hoseok’s proximity, something you haven’t known for the past fifteen years. It was different at the concert. You had mistaken that weird sensation for seeing your favorite idol in concert for the first time, that giddy feeling you get when you attend the concert of your favorite group. But being in the same room with Hoseok was… surreal, and it almost scared you that touching him would be even more.
“Let’s leave these two love birds alone,” Jin said, breaking the silence. But to you and Hoseok, every noise, every movement apart from each other, did not exist. It was just the two of you in that hotel lobby.
When the boys had moved towards the elevators, still silently watching you, you opened your mouth to speak, but Hoseok beat you to it.
“You look nice today!” He blurted. “I mean, you always look nice. I forgot to mention it...before.” His eyes trailed across your face, lingering on your lips which he so desperately wanted to kiss, and finally resting on your eyes.
You smiled, “You look nice too, Hobi. You look handsome.”
Hoseok giggled, he fucking giggled.
“So,” You began. “Is it true what they said, that you’re a virgin?”
Hoseok’s face grew a dozen shades of red. He began to splutter, and it took him a moment to form a coherent sentence. “You heard that?”
“Jimin told me,” You said, hiking your bag further up your shoulder.
“I’m going to kill Jimin.”
Of course you always wondered if Hoseok was a virgin. When you were young and curious, you thought about Hoseok a lot in that way. To be honest, you were quite shocked when Jimin told you he was twenty five and still a virgin. The two of you knew nearly everything about each other, but not this. You had spoken about sex before, when you were young and exploring your bodies. But truth be told, you had no friends to experiment with, and Hoseok was busy being an idol trainee, so the two of you painfully stayed virgins. And you were both in love with each other. You knew why you had never had sex - you had avoided relationships because you told yourself it wouldn’t be an honest relationship if your partner didn’t know about your connection with Hoseok, and you promised yourself to tell no one ever again about that. You avoided one-night stands and hookups because even being intimate with some stranger for a brief moment gave you anxiety. Call you old fashioned but you wanted your first time to be special, and you only imagined that with someone you loved, you only imagined it with Hoseok. So you had resigned to the thought of staying a virgin for God knows how long, because you knew you would never fall in love with anyone else. But then an opportunity presented itself, and a part of you wanted to get it over with, because you imagined Hoseok had lost his virginity to some pretty girl. You remember the night you had the chance to lose your virginity to one of your close friends quite clearly. You were drunk and overwhelmed. You went home alone and had a panic attack. Hoseok was there. He was there. And it occurred to you, as Hoseok held you, that you couldn’t lose your virginity to anyone else, not when you were in love with him.
“I’m a virgin, too.” You said after a long pause.
Hoseok looked up at you, perplexed. He wanted to say that he was relieved, that he was glad you hadn’t had sex with anyone else. But it occurred to him that maybe you didn’t want to have sex with him either.
“Oh,” He said. “Why?”
You were caught off guard by the question, but answered it nonetheless. “A lot of reasons. But I think… it was because I wanted to lose my virginity to you.”
Again, Hoseok’s face became all sorts of red. “M-me?”
You nodded. “I love you, Hoseok. I’ve loved you for a long time, and before it was silly, because I figured I would never meet you for real. But, here we are…”
“Right,” Hoseok swallowed. “Here we are.”
“In a hotel,” You added. “Where you have a hotel room.”
“Shit,” Hoseok gasped. “Right, yeah, my hotel room!”
Hoseok began to flounder, so you took the opportunity to move towards him. In an instant purely fueled by adrenaline and the urge to get it over with, you kissed him. Hoseok froze, your touch electrifying him. You pulled away, a worried expression on your face. But your panic was cut short when Hoseok pulled you back into his embrace, pressing his lips against yours. He snaked his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against him. You could feel his heavy heartbeat against your chest, or maybe that was yours. You could feel him.
The kiss turned heated, Hoseok eager to slip his tongue into your mouth and explore it, to taste you, to feel you. His hands began to wander down your sides, down your back. You could feel his hardness against your hip, and it had you pulling away. You pressed your forehead against his, brushing your noses together, and gasped for breath.
“Let’s go upstairs, yeah?”
Hoseok nodded fervently, looking deep into your eyes. He gave your butt a quick pat, before tugging you towards the elevators, where you continued your heated kiss, all the way to Hoseok’s floor.
But a thought occurred to you, and you pulled away from Hoseok’s grasp. He whined, and watched as you pulled your phone out. “But first, let me send a selfie of us to my therapist. Show that bitch for doubting me.”
Hoseok smiled into the camera, then placed a wet kiss against your cheek. You giggled at the sensation, and quickly sent the picture to Pam. Hoseok pulled out his own phone when it dinged.
Jinnie: I slipped a condom under your door, Hobi. Safe sex is important!
You sat at the foot of Hoseok’s bed, in your underwear. The TV was on and you mindlessly stared at it, but your mind was elsewhere. It was with Hoseok, who was in the bathroom washing his face. When he emerged from the bathroom, your face lit up, and it made him smile that sunshine smile.
“Hello, my love,” You said, stretching your arms out towards him. Hoseok gladly walked into your embrace, bending down to press a kiss to the top of your head while you wrapped your arms around his waist. Pressing your nose against his stomach, enjoying the way the taut muscle felt under your cheek, you inhaled his scent. He still smelled of sex, and a little bit of his cologne, and a whole lot like Hobi.
Hoseok placed his hands on the sides of your face, gently tilting your head to look up at him. The way he touched you was always so soft, so gentle, as though he were afraid you would crack. You, on the other hand, touched him as though you were afraid he would drift away. You supposed that was what you were each afraid of.
“Jagiya,” Hoseok spoke. “Will you be mine?”
The biggest grin took over your face. “Hell yeah, I’m yours. Hobi,” You whined. “I love you.”
Hobi pressed you down onto the mattress, straddling your hips, and commenced placing wet kisses all over your face. You giggled, gripping his waist. “Hobi!”
Hobi stopped, hovering over you, a toothy smile on his face. “I love you,” He said. “I love you. I love you. I love you.” Hoseok leaned down to kiss you. It was sweet and soft, and it made your insides all warm and fuzzy.
You stared into each other’s eyes, and it was a feeling beyond any you have ever felt, to have him there, in your arms, to be looking into his eyes and seeing that the love he felt for you was real. Hoseok was real. Your love was real. Pam can eat shit for doubting you.
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