#ThunderWatcher | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

knjsagustd · 3 years ago

Text

thunderwatch | jhs

But the door opens anyway. Hobi is standing there. His familiar heart shaped smile falls from his face upon seeing you. You smile pathetically at him. He strides over, sits on the table beside you and pulls you into a hug.

masterlist | playlist

→ Hoseok x Reader

→ w/c: 4.6k

→ summer camp au, established relationship, hurt/comfort

→ warnings: discussions of family illness, death and grief.

→ a/n: i hope you guys enjoy this fic. it’s very close to my heart for a plethora of reasons. there’s so much left for me in this setting that lives heartachingly vividly in my head so if you want more too please ask 💛💛

“Well. That ruins tonight’s campfire,” Jin says, clapping his hands together, as the latest thunderwatch update ceases on the walkie talkie.

You push yourself up from the beanbag you’re curled up on with Hobi - he groans as you accidentally use him as leverage. Looking incredulously between Jin and the torrential rain that’s been going on and off since lunch, you laugh.

“Honey, because it wasn’t already?”

Not waiting for Jin’s reply, you slump back into Hobi’s open arms. While you put your headphone back in, he adjusts his arm around you, and the two of you go back to watching The Society. Across the room you can see Cara smiling at the sight while Jungkook rants about an airbnb or something. She spent the first weeks of Camp listening to you and your massive crush on Hobi, she knows how happy you are right now. When you say massive you mean massive, like ‘I’ve never felt like this before’, ‘I think we’re soulmates’ level massive. It had you feeling like a fourteen year old with their first crush. But now you can take solace in the fact Hobi was feeling the same. And Yoongi was dealing far worse with his whining that Cara was with yours.

You hear footsteps coming and suddenly stop. There’s a groan, a swooshing sound comes as they turn. The slapping sound of their flip flops moves towards the kitchen. You look up - you can already tell from Cara and Jungkook’s faces who it probably was. Jungkook mouths ‘Hanna’ at your questioning eyebrow. You roll your eyes before turning back to Hobi’s phone screen.

There’s another crash of thunder, accompanied by a louder groan from Jin. Another thirty minutes added onto the Thunderwatch. At least you’re all in Blum for this one - with wifi and fans. Better than the Swim Shed or Geyer Gym. Especially when Day Camp is there. Only downside is that it means you’re not making it to dinner anytime soon. The leftover snacks from Sunday’s all camp can only sustain you all so long. Largely because unless it’s the cereal bars with chocolate chips that stuff is actively disgusting. Actual sustenance will be needed. Unless ice cream miraculously appears in the freezer as it does sometimes. Then this bunch of young adults will gorge themselves on ice cream with excessive amounts of chocolate sauce and sprinkles to fill the hole. Because that’s the responsible thing to do.

Once the episode is done you and Hobi just lie there, heads together and voices low. You want to kiss him so bad, but PDA beyond this makes you both uncomfortable. You’re just laying there, toying with his hair. His fingers trace swirls into your thighs, the light touch drawing shivers from you. You can see the small smile your reaction is giving him. Taehyung comes over, asking if the two of you want to play cards. You’re fairly sure you’re only being asked because you’re the only person in this building that knows how to properly shuffle cards - your dad taught you when the two of you were killing time before your grandmother's 90th birthday tea. And also because the boys always beat you and they find it far too hilarious. Besides, you’ve never had the reaction time for ERS. You wave them off, saying you’re going to call your mum. You catch Jungkook’s eyes following Tae as they walk to the back of the room.

“Join them,” you mouth at him.

“No.”

“Just Do It.” You try to mimic the Shia LaBeouf video as much as is possible when trying to be covert and laying down on a beanbag. You’re fairly sure Jungkook gets your meaning.

Cara notices your silent conversation - another mark against your ability to be covert about meme references - and pushes Jungkook off the sofa. You see her hiss something you can’t quite make out. But Jungkook gives both of you the middle finger before going to join Hobi and Tae.

Pulling your own headphones out of your rucksack’s front pocket you leave to one of the ‘Skype Rooms’. Though, the wifi in Blum is too shitty for skype. Instead you’ve been making use of Whatsapp’s voice call feature. Avoids the international fees - not that there’s any signal here in the arse end of New York - and the wifi is usually able to support it. You sit on the table, your back pressed against the wall, because the chair is uncomfortable. And you’re incapable of sitting on something properly. Then you tap the call button. Mum answers almost instantly. Like she’s been waiting.

“Hey Mum,” you say. You can already feel the lump forming in your throat. Usually you can handle how much you miss your family but hearing them makes it harder. The first few weeks were the hardest. You were having trouble making contact, you were in a completely new place making completely new friends. But you made it through. Very much thanks to the rest of the lifeguard team. Especially Jimin, who’s been like your brother at camp. He was up in arms when he found out that Cara knew about your crush on Hobi before him.

“Hi dear,” she sounds different to usual. As if the check in text at lunch didn’t worry you enough.

“What’s up? And don’t lie so I stay at camp.” You let out a small chuckle, trying to lighten the mood. She sighs your name, feeding the heavy feeling that is taking root in the pit of your stomach.

“Don’t work yourself up -” because that doesn’t make you want to do it more - “but Granny is in hospital.”

“What?” Your blood runs cold. That lump in your throat feels like it’s choking you.

“She’s been there for a few weeks and -”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” There’s anger mixing with the anxiety and aching sadness.

“We didn’t know at first. And we didn’t want to worry you.”

She’s so fucking calm.

“Well I’m worried. What’s wrong with her?”

There’s a pause.

“Darling, she’s ninety, she had a fall.”

There’s something Mum isn’t telling you.

“And?”

“She’s being moved to a care home, we’re going to see her at the end of the week.”

“Okay…?”

“Dear, according to Uncle John she isn’t doing well.”

You feel your heart hit the floor.

“She’s having trouble remembering things…”

And she’s dying. That’s what mum isn’t saying. You can’t breathe. Mum’s still talking but you’re not listening. Hot tears are rolling down your cheeks. You aren’t sure when you started crying.

“I want to come home,” you cut mum off. She just sighs.

“It’s a few more weeks. Nothing’s going to change.”

“But-”

“No.”

You stay on the line, her talking you down, for a few more minutes. Once you’ve said goodbye you just sit in the Skype room. It’s a glorified closet, really. But it’s private enough for you to cry. So you sit there, choking down your tears. There’s another crash of thunder. You use it to disguise a loud strangled breath. It doesn’t feel real. That’s you’ve been on the other side of an ocean having the time of your life, while your grandmother dies. It feels wrong. You feel like a horrible person. The reality sets in that you’ll never really know her. The hard weight of guilt and regret settle in your gut.

Someone tries to open the door. You push the chair you’re not using at it, calming you breath enough to call;

“Occupied.”

“What’s wrong,” he says into your hair.

And you try to push it down. Shrug it off as homesickness. But this is Hobi, he sees right through you. So you tell him everything. The tears come again. This time, though, he’s there, rubbing your back and nuzzling into your shoulder. Letting you know he’s there.

“I’m sorry,” you mutter once the tears stop.

Hobi looks at you sadly.

“You have nothing to be sorry for.”

That alone makes you want to start crying again. Goddamn him for being so understanding. Sometimes you think he’s getting annoyed with you and your constant apologies. You know it’s not true. One afternoon when T - the waterfront director - had given you a precious period off together and you’d apologised for going off on a tangent about the lore of a video game you were explaining to him, he’d told you that he isn’t annoyed at you for apologising. He’s annoyed at the people who made you think that you had to. That your passion and enjoyment of things was something to be penitent for. But even with that reminder sometimes you still have to push away the intrusive thoughts that you’re annoying, that your existence is something that requires an apology

“Thank you for listening.” You burrow deeper into his chest.

“That’s what I’m here for.”

He tilts your head up and presses a soft kiss to your lips. As he moves away you cup his cheeks and pull him back. You don’t think you’ll ever tire of how he makes you feel. Safe and wanted. Like a fucking Taylor Swift song.

Once you pull apart Hobi places a light kiss on your forehead. He pushes himself off the table and holds out a hand.

“C’mon,” he smiles. “Cara’s trying to get everyone to watch Mamma Mia again.”

A wet laugh bubbles out of you. You take his hand and he tugs you off the table.

You tuck your head into Hobi as you walk back into the main room - you don’t need all your friends to see your red rimmed eyes and puffy cheeks. He replies with a press of his lips to your crown, using the arm slung around your shoulder to hug you closer. You collapse onto the sofa between Cara and Hanna. You ignore Hanna’s huff in favour of turning to Cara.

“Mamma Mia,” you say by way of greeting. She smiles, placing her feet on your lap. You lean back into Hobi as she presses play.

It’s easy to forget everything at home when you’re watching Amanda Seyfried and Meryl Streep dance around a Greek Island singing ABBA. Especially when you're pressed into Hobi’s warmth. His arms are wrapped around you, drawing circles into the skin that’s been revealed by your t-shirt riding up. You get sucked into it. Singing along far too passionately with Cara. Telling Namjoon to shut up when he comes in complaining about the film choice, or questioning the realism of a musical. You will never forgive him for putting on a Quentin Tarantino film. Just before Dancing Queen Jungkook moves one of the bean bags so he’s sitting in front of you and Cara. He pointedly ignores the two of you as Taehyung settles next to him on it. If anything that spurs you on further. You and Cara can barely look at him, or each other, without giggling. Your hand drops from your lap to start playing with his hair. He leans back into, bringing Taehyung with him with the arm that’s wrapped around the other boy’s shoulder.

If there’s a lump in your throat during Super Trouper (because being sick and tired of everything in Glasgow hits just a bit too close to home and for some reason Super Trouper just affects you) you think you do a good job of hiding it. Though Cara does give your hand a squeeze. So maybe you’re not as good at hiding things as you think you are.

During SOS - when Jimin is attacking Pierce Brosnan’s singing and you’re totally not laughing at how passionate he’s getting - Tyler arrives with a stack of pizzas from Brio’s. You and Hobi claim a box for yourselves, thanking him profusely. Outside the downpour is still going but you can’t remember the last strike of thunder. Tyler tells you all that your evening duties have been cancelled as a result of the storm and if anyone wants a ride back to their cabin or the castle now is the time to ask him. A couple people take him up on it. Intent on getting an early night or some privacy - something that’s hard to come by during a session. Most of you stay, it’s not often that you get a completely free evening during the week. You definitely don’t cry into your pepperoni pizza during Slipping Through My Fingers. The song normally gets you, and has since your were eight and saw the film in cinema, but today it’s got the added layer of your Grandmother and the relationship you’re never going to have with her. If anyone notices they don’t say anything. Hobi just holds you a little tighter.

The hours fade together. Mamma Mia ends so Cara (who has not given up control of the remote) puts on Hairspray. You enjoy it - you cry less. But you can’t avoid the PTSD flashbacks you still get of the really shit production of it you did when you were like twelve. Bad times, bad choices on the theatre group’s part considering there were no black people that attended. Thankfully there was no black face - just suspension of disbelief. During Hairspray, Namjoon successfully negotiates with Cara for the remote. The deal is that Hairspray gets to play till the end and he doesn’t even look at a Tarantino film. Another reason to love Cara, she hates Tarantino as much as you do. At some point you fall asleep, nestled in Hobi’s warmth with Cara holding your hand. Honestly you should have expected it. You sleep on this sofa about as much as you sleep in your bed. It’s a really comfortable sofa.

Someone is gently shaking you awake. You don’t know how much time has passed. You think you fell asleep around Without Love. The sounds from the TV definitely aren’t Hairspray anymore. You groan, burrowing your face deeper into Hobi, as you realise that someone has put on Stranger Things and it’s an episode you’ve seen what feels like a hundred times at this point. Hobi’s laugh vibrates through you. He pushes you off him, onto Cara who is also asleep, and stands up. You look around a bit blearily, still half asleep. Namjoon is sitting with the remote on his lap and Cara’s head on his shoulder. Jungkook and Tae have disappeared - they were definitely there when Hairspray started because you were harmonising with Jungkook on Good Morning Baltimore - and the beanbag is back across the floor. Hobi smiles at you, leaning over to take your hand.

“C’mon, you need to go to bed. I’ll walk you,” he says.

“Nooooo,” you whine, even as Hobi pulls you into a standing position. “I can walk by myself, it’s fine.”

(It’s not fine, sometime in the past two months your fear of the dark has come back in full force. Also you're fairly sure you saw a ghost at the bridge one time.)

“Baby, you can barely stand up.” His fond smile has crept into his voice. You can tell it’s taking everything in him not to laugh at you.

“I’ve had a long day,” you say defensively, crossing your arms like the overgrown toddler you become when exhausted.

“Exactly, so let me walk you back to the Castle.” It sounds so simple and reasonable when he says it like that. But in your tiredness-addled brain it still feels wrong.

“But then you’ll have to walk, like the whole way across camp.”

“I can handle that.”

There’s no point arguing. Normally you can best most people in an argument but not when you’re this tired. Not when Hobi is offering to give you a piggyback to the Castle and you’re loath to refuse any excuse to hold him. Not when he’s smiling at you like that.

So you sigh and nod, feigning intense reluctance. Behind you Cara seems to have woken up enough to laugh at you. As you walk away you flip her off over your shoulder. A heartwarming peal of laughter rips through the room. You’re so glad you decided to continue wearing your crocs after you got off lifeguarding duty today. You’re too tired for laces. Even seeing Hobi do his up makes you feel more tired. Plus your crocs are a whole lot more comfortable than the trainers you’ve been wearing all summer that will definitely need thrown out when you get back home. They are literally falling apart - but in their defense they were already four years old. A couple of the horse camp girls are leaving at the same time as you. You feel your cheeks flush as they say goodbye to Hobi in those sickly sweet voices you keep hearing them use towards him. Like when you rotate with him at yellow chair and they’re all crowded around him trying to get his attention when he’s trying to make sure children don’t drown. And you’re right there, but still invisible to them. It’s the same now. They don’t even acknowledge you as they obviously brush up against him to get their shoes and simper. It makes your heart clench. Even as Hobi brushes them off. Like he always does. He doesn’t even look at them, just nods and keeps smiling up at you. But you can’t help but have your moment of weakness. The one you visited many times in the past whenever the beautiful American girls who get to spend their days in nice clothes (unlike you who has spent the past two months in bikinis, oversized t-shirts and athletic shorts with every flaw you’ve ever seen in yourself on show) start flirting with him. It’s a place where you spiral about why he’s with you when half of the camp seems to fancy him. Did you just get to him first and now he can’t stop it without looking like an arsehole?

Outside the world feels damp. It’s cooler now, with the sun gone, but the humidity from the storm is still hanging in the air. It never really leaves. The wet heat is draining and sweaty. You’re constantly exhausted, but that might just be the amount of work you’re doing. In some ways, you’re kind of thankful for today's big storm. It meant you got a night off from your village. Not that you used it very well by watching musicals on Netflix until the wee hours.

Thankfully the horse camp staff sleep in Hayden, which is in the opposite direction of the Castle. Once the girls have said their goodbyes, Hobi crouches a little bit so you can hop on his back. You do it silently, nuzzling into him once you’re settled. Even with him you’re going to observe your usual practice for walking to the Castle at night; eyes forward, nothing can get you if you don’t acknowledge it. Because that is definitely how ghosts (and bears) work. Hobi must feel how tense you are against his back. His thumbs are stroking light circles into your thighs as he carries you across the bridge.

“You okay?” He asks, turning his head a little bit towards where yours is resting on his shoulder.

“Mmh,” you reply, burrowing down into his neck, shaking your head as you do so.

“Tired?”

“Yeah,” you breathe. You exhale, screwing up your eyes as you remind yourself that communication is key and you really can’t deal with your self-doubt on top of your homesickness and dying Grandmother. Taking a deep breath, which Hobi definitely feels, you continue, “why me? Like why are we together?”

You feel Hobi’s steps hesitate for a moment. He turns his head, nodding as he digests your question.

“Is this because of Erin and the Horse camp staff?”

“A little, and Sylvie and the Tacoma staff, I’ve heard the Sacky girls talking about you too, and Hanna always looks like she has something to say.”

You don’t tell him how Cara told you that Hanna had a crush on Hobi too and has ranted in the past about how she doesn’t get why he picked you. Cara learned early in the summer not to confront Hanna about all the shit she says. These days the two of you and Jungkook mostly try to ignore her. You don’t tell him that sometimes you agree with her.

Hobi is quiet for a moment, thinking. You don’t know whether that’s a good thing or a bad. He’s taking his time which means he’s taking this seriously. Conversely, though, it means he doesn’t have an instant answer, leaving enough time for doubt to creep in. Although doubting this boy is so fucking dumb, he’s literally carrying you to bed despite yours being on the otherside of camp to his.

“Babe,” he begins, “I don’t care about the Horse camp and Tacoma girls or fucking Hanna, I’ve liked you since our second week here. You’re smart, funny, kind and really beautiful. I’m going to keep reminding you of that and being here for you as long as you let me, sound good?”

You nod against his neck, unwilling to look at him right now. Your cheeks are burning, you really don’t know how to handle the compliment. This is definitely the wrong time to tell him you love him, right? The two of you haven’t said it before. Now, when you’re exhausted on his back and he’s just had to quell your doubts, is not the time. But that doesn’t stop the realisation sweeping over you harder than ever before. You’re going to say it soon. It’s going to tumble out of you at a really inopportune moment. Like when he passes you the chips at lunch, or rotates with you at the trampoline or something. Those options would be more humiliating than right now. But still, you bite your tongue, letting him carry you home.

Inside the Castle you refuse to walk - attempting to prolong this precious, semi-alone time. You flick your crocs off and urge Hobi to carry you to your room. He breathes out a laugh and complies. The two of you flop down on your bed, it creaks under your combined weight. None of the other girls are back yet. Apart from maybe Zoe, who wasn’t in Blum when you left, but she’s erected a wall of towels and flags around her bed and is probably asleep if she’s in there. You’re pressed together by virtue of the bed being barely big enough for one person normally. Hobi reaches out, tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear.

“Stay,” you find yourself saying. You didn’t plan to, the thought popped into your head and promptly tumbled out of you. This is why you go to bed early. Your filter disintegrates when you’re tired.

Hobi smiles bittersweetly at you. You know he’s going to say no, even though you both want him to say yes. You don’t get to sleep together, in the literal sense, very often. You squish together during holdovers, when the rules break down for two nights. Hobi and the other activities team boys have been moved around so many times at this point that there’s always the chance for you two to get a night alone. You pull the mattresses off the beds and pile them up to make a semi-comfortable double bed on the floor and curl together. There’s also the ghost of New York as well, a memory you think you’re both clutching. During second holdover the camp bussed all the international staff down to the city. The whole lifeguard team, plus Lillie from ropes and Megan the yoga instructor, rented an airbnb out in Brooklyn. As one of two couples on the team Hobi and you were able to claim a private bedroom instead of the communal one that had six weirdly small double beds. It was a perfect trip, made more perfect by the fact you two were finally able to share a proper bed and have proper privacy.

Not like right now when you’re curled together on the two mattresses you’ve stacked on the bottom bunk of a rickety bunkbed and one of your roommates may or may not be on the other side of the room. Now is definitely not a perfect moment. But that just makes you want him beside you more. You just want him to hold you while you fall asleep. After the bomb your mum dropped on you, you are not looking forward to your dreams tonight. Or just the prospect of going to sleep in general. Hobi makes the guilt and anxiety stop coiling in your gut. With him there you feel less like crying. Him and his sunshine soul that you’re going to sorely when this is all over in two weeks.

“I can’t,” he whispers back. The hand that brushed your hair is still cupping your cheek, drawing soft patterns into your skin with his thumb.

You nod, there’s no point in pushing the issue. He isn’t going to stay and it’s for the best. If any of the directors found out you two would get a lot of shit. Your roommates are going to come back and you’d never hear the end of it if they saw him here. Besides, you have to be at waterfront at half eight tomorrow - you need a good night's sleep. Something neither of you are going to get if you’re squished on this bed.

“I know,” you sigh. “I wish you could though.”

Hobi smiles. Not the ten thousand watt one that you see everyday as he dances around the beach somehow managing to have endless fun with the kids and counselors while still doing his job. The small, quiet one he saves just for you. And Yoongi, but that’s not important. You still think of it as your smile. You wonder sometimes if the ex he’s mentioned in the past received it too. Not very often though - you don’t dwell on the fact he’s been your first everything and you aren’t his, it doesn’t matter when it’s you two now. No matter how many times you’ve seen it in the last three months it still sparks up the same butterflies from the first time.

“I do too.” He leans in and brings you into a kiss. It’s soft and heart-melting in the best way. “You should go to bed, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You wonder if he hears the unsaid ‘I love you’ as loudly as you do. Maybe he does, if the way the smile fades for a second and he places a light kiss on your forehead is anything to go by. Then he rolls himself off your bed. Hobi crouches for a second to look you in the eyes before he leaves.

“You’re one of the strongest people I’ve ever met, you’re going to be fine,” he says, squeezing your hand briefly.

You nod, squeezing back. Then he lets you go and leaves. The closes behind him and you roll on your back, staring at the chains that are the only thing stopping Vanessa from landing on top of you in the night. Any warmth or lightness you felt seems to have been sucked from the room at his departure. You can feel yourself sinking into the mattress. Pushed down the weight of the day.

“Yous two are tae fucking cute.” Zoe’s broad falkirk accent makes you jump. You turn your head and see her holding back the flag that usual obscures her from view.

“You couldn’t have said you were there?!” You can feel yourself going red at the thought of what she just listened to.

“Nah, s’funnier this way.”

“Fucking christ Zo.”

#bts fic #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts fan fiction #jung hoseok fanfiction #hobi fic #hobi fanfiction #jung hoseok #j hope fanfic #fic:thunderwatch

8 notes · View notes