How to Change a Fuqboi (Hoseok)
Word Count: 3,912
Rated M (language and like REALLY REALLY suggestive sh!t yo 😂)
How To Change A Fuqboi
Volume 1: Happenstance (Jungkook)
Volume 2: For-Getting His Attention (Jimin)
Volume 3: Bonding and Binding (Taehyung)
Volume 4: One and Done (Yoongi)
Volume 5: Unintentional Liar (Seokjin)
Volume 6: To Be Loved (Namjoon)
Volume 7: Checklist (Hoseok)
Step 1) Pay attention to first impressions*
After a little…thinking time, I have decided to write this last volume in sight of the fact that there is something we failed to discuss earlier.
In the words of the great poet William Shakespeare, “Some are born as a fuckboy, some achieve fuckboy-hood, and some have fuckboy-hood thrust upon them.” Okay, yes, I changed it a LITTLE. But that’s beside the point. In this volume, we will be addressing the third version, those that have “fuckboy-hood thrust upon them” which I will henceforth reference as a “convert.” Often times, these are guys who have experienced emotional trauma in a romantic relationship, but instead of working toward a healing resolution, they will compensate by seeking comfort in… something else.
Jung Hoseok, a name that anyone- nay, EVERYONE in the Middle Earth dormitory has heard.
Jung Hoseok, the dancer, the straight A student, the part time waiter in the university’s only sit-down restaurant.
Jung Hoseok, the most notorious fuckboy on campus.
See, rumor has it, he keeps this list, a LITERAL list. It has no title and no explanation, but neither is ever really necessary. It only consists of names…about three hundred of them, though the general consensus stands that slightly more than half are crossed out. And let’s just say it’s not because he’s handing out party invitations.
So obviously, when you moved into your Middle Earth apartment, having transferred over from another university, within the first two days you knew who he was and that you should stay the hell away from him at all costs.
You want NOTHING to do with Jung Hoseok.
It’s not that he’s trouble, because let’s face it, you are NO stranger that word in any sense, but rather your avoidance of him has everything to do with how you first met and what he said to you. Or maybe what he didn’t say.
The empty carton of cigarettes stares back at you with a vengeance, the last one poised between your fingers.
By now, one would think you’d learn to keep a reserve, but NO. You let your vices eat you alive and then cyclically get angry when you neglect them out of laziness. You shrug, skillfully flicking on your lighter before letting the tip of the flame kiss the edge of the cigarette.
Fine. Whatever. Learn nothing, that’s okay too.
Taking a thoughtful drag, shifting your position at the base of the tree, you pull out this quarter’s class schedule and the campus map to look them over one last time instead of watching students pass between small dormitory buildings, meeting neighbors, greeting friends.
As you have or desire neither, you devote your attention to the paper, pretending to be thoroughly interested in wherever the hell “Science Lecture Hall B” is located- especially as some boy decides that out of ALL the decorative trees to sit under, he’ll be occupying the space under YOURS.
“You know this is a smoke free campus, right?” he deposits his book bag beside the trunk, looking at you like you just killed a man.
You arch an eyebrow, unsure whether to be irritated or curious, “You know I don’t actually care, right?”
“Great, because I don’t either,” he laughs at his own bad joke, taking a seat and stretching out his legs. You’ve got to admit (or I’ll force you to), he’s a little attractive with his bright smile, tanned skin, lean frame, and dark, feathery hair- but oh GOD is that a choker?
“Fantastic,” you smirk before taking a long drag and blowing the smoke right into his face, hating the burning, but loving the coughing fit your new companion bends into.
“Was that…really necessary?” he bats at the air, action so (possibly unintentionally) comical that it makes you laugh. The boy seems to take this as the go-ahead to continue, “You got a name?”
“Would you believe me if I said no?” you’re more amused than anything at this point, ego being stroked fervently by his insistence on finding everything you say hilarious. You want to believe your interactions are reluctant, but the smile on your face as you tell him your name says otherwise.
He extends his hand for a shake and you’re one hundred percent ready to accept the greeting until he says, “I’m Hoseok. Jung Hoseok.”
You immediately retract, having skimmed the skin of his palm, watching him now with a look of disgust. His smile falls.
“Did I do something wrong?”
You stand, shoving your schedule into your bag so haphazardly that it audibly crumples, “Don’t think I haven’t heard your name before. I know what you are.”
“What I am…?”
You decide to not grace him with an answer, opting instead to walk away. But the persistent boy follows.
“Wait, what do you mean? I don’t understand.”
If your roommate hadn’t warned you about him, you might think Hoseok is actually upset by your leaving, rather than simply pining for attention. If your name is on that notorious list of his, you want absolutely nothing to do with him- a thought that I encourage enthusiastically.
You drop the cigarette, stomping on the smoldering end until satisfied, words gruff, “You don’t NEED to understand. Now, unless you have a pack of smokes that you want to share, we’re done here.”
*Elaboration: first impressions are not always correct and should not be used to judge the ENTIRETY of a person, but rather your impression of them should based in what they do to maintain a good image or repair a bad one.