anuminousroue - Tumblr blog

anuminousroue · 5 months ago

Text

When The Sun Rises

Hana and Hoseok have been in a relationship for two years, both still in high school but already facing the challenges of balancing love, family, and personal struggles. Hana, just turning 18, is dealing with a strict father and her own insecurities. Hoseok, a year older, has his own baggage, particularly surrounding his family’s issues. As they navigate their bond, they’re confronted by the expectations of their families and the pressures of being young and in love. Their journey is filled with ups and downs, but through it all, they are determined to make it work.

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol abuse, gambling, irresponsible family members, dv. While set in highschool the main characters are 18 and older (pls dont ask me questions about their years, I myself don't know). Despite them being legal, I will refrain from writing anything overtly explicit until the story progresses. With that being said their will be heavy implies to underage sex and drinking. But all within safety and precaution is taken!

Chapter 1: Ramyeon Weather

The rain poured steadily, drumming on the pavement and filling the air with its fresh, earthy scent. Hana held the edge of the small, slightly lopsided umbrella, tilting it over Hoseok’s head more than her own.

“Ya, Hani, stop trying to drench yourself for me,” Hoseok scolded, reaching over to tug the umbrella back toward her side. His hand brushed against hers as he adjusted it, and she felt a familiar warmth bloom in her chest.

“Wae? Oppa might melt,” she teased, her lips curving into a sly smile.

Hoseok let out a short laugh, shaking his head. “Melt? Aigoo, you really think you’re funny, huh?”

“I think you think I’m funny,” she shot back without missing a beat, her eyes sparkling as she glanced up at him.

He gave her a look—half amused, half exasperated—and then suddenly reached out to flick her forehead. “Jinjja, you’re impossible.”

Hana winced dramatically, clutching her forehead with her free hand. “Yah! Jeongmal?” she whined. “How dare you? What kind of boyfriend are you?”

“Boyfriend? That's all I am, Hani?” he murmured, his voice low and teasing. “Didn’t know you were so proud to claim me.”

Hana felt her cheeks burn, but she refused to back down. “Who said I was proud?” she countered, tilting her head as if in thought. “Maybe I’m just… settling.”

Hoseok stopped in his tracks, pulling her to a halt along with him. He turned to face her fully, a playful yet dangerous glint in his eye. “Ah, is that so? Settling, huh?”

Before she could react, he reached out to poke her sides, his hands quick and merciless. Hana squealed, twisting away from his grasp, but it was no use. Hoseok’s laughter filled the empty street as he kept poking her, his grin wide and triumphant.

“Hoseok-ah! Stop!” she gasped, trying to bat his hands away while holding onto the umbrella.

“Not until you take it back,” he teased, his tone light but his touch lingering just a little too long as his hands brushed against her waist.

“Fine! Fine, I take it back,” she relented, breathless from laughter.

He finally stopped, letting his hands rest on her hips for a moment before he stepped back, still grinning. “That’s what I thought.”

By the time they reached her house, they were both damp, their shoes squelching slightly on the wooden floor as they kicked them off. Hana led the way to her room, tossing her bag onto her desk chair.

“Eomma and appa won’t be home until late,” she said casually, pulling off her damp cardigan and tossing it onto her bed. “And Namjoon-oppa has practice, so…”

“So it’s just us?” Hoseok finished, his voice laced with playful intrigue as he leaned against her door frame.

“Just us,” she echoed, glancing at him over her shoulder.

Hoseok’s eyes softened as he watched her, but the mischievous glint never quite left. He crossed the room in two easy steps, his hands finding her waist again as he pulled her close. “You know, Hani, you’re lucky I walk you home every day,” he murmured, his voice dropping just slightly.

Hana looked up at him, her lips curving into that daring smile that drove him crazy. “Oh? Lucky? I thought you were the lucky one.”

He chuckled, his thumb brushing along her side. “I am,” he admitted softly, leaning down just enough so their foreheads almost touched.

The room felt quieter now, the only sound the faint patter of rain against the window. Hana’s hands came up to rest lightly on his chest, her fingers brushing against the damp fabric of his shirt.

“Oppa,” she whispered, her tone teasing but her gaze steady. “If Namjoon-oppa finds out you were in my room again, you’re dead.”

Hoseok smirked, his nose brushing against hers as he spoke. “Does it seem like I care, Sarang?”

Hana’s breath hitched at the nickname, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she leaned up just enough to close the distance, brushing her lips lightly against his cheek before pulling back.

“You’re such a flirt,” she teased, but her voice was softer now, her words carrying a hint of something deeper.

Hoseok smiled, his hands tightening slightly on her waist. “Only for you.”

Hana leaned against her desk, her arms crossed as she watched Hoseok pull off his damp sweater, leaving him in his crisp white school shirt. The fabric clung to his shoulders just enough to make her smirk. She tilted her head, her voice dripping with playful mischief.

She let her eyes trail over him, her voice lilting as she spoke, “you should dress like that more often. It’s dangerous.”

Hoseok paused, tossing the sweater onto her chair as he raised a brow at her. A smirk tugged at his lips. “Dangerous? Yah, Kim Hana, are you trying to flirt with me right now?”

“Trying?” she shot back, stepping closer and tugging lightly at his sleeve. “Who said anything about trying?”

His laughter was low and smooth as he moved to lean back against her desk, letting her come closer. “You’re getting bolder every day, aren’t you?” he teased, his hands sliding into his pockets as he watched her with warm, amused eyes.

“You like it,” she quipped, her gaze unwavering.

“Oh, I love it,” he admitted, not missing a beat, his grin growing wider. He reached out, catching her wrist before she could move away, and pulled her in until she was standing right in front of him. His voice dropped slightly as he added, “But you’re not the only one who knows how to tease, Sarang.”

Hana’s breath hitched as he leaned down, his face so close to hers that she could feel his breath against her skin. He held her gaze with ease, his confidence palpable. “Tell me,” he murmured, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, “what exactly about this look of mine is so… dangerous?”

Her cheeks flushed, but she refused to back down, tilting her chin up. “You already know,” she said, her voice soft but steady.

“I want to hear you say it,” he replied, his thumb gently brushing over her wrist.

She hesitated, the warmth of his touch making her pulse race. “Fine,” she said finally, narrowing her eyes at his triumphant grin. “You look—”

“Perfect?” he interrupted, leaning even closer.

“Arrogant,” she shot back, her lips twitching into a smile.

His laugh filled the room as he straightened up, still holding her wrist as he pulled her toward him. “And yet, you can’t take your eyes off me,” he teased, his tone light but full of affection.

“You’re insufferable,” she said, though the way she was smiling gave her away.

“And you’re beautiful,” he countered without hesitation, his voice softening as he wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her close.

Hana rested her hands on Hoseok’s chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her palms making her feel strangely at ease, even as her pulse raced. His arms had slipped around her hips effortlessly, his hands tapping a light rhythm against the curve of her arse, as if he couldn’t help himself. It wasn’t even something she paid attention to anymore; she was so used to how naturally touchy he was with her.

“You’re staring,” he said after a moment, his grin laced with amusement.

“I am not,” she denied, though her cheeks betrayed her with their warmth.

“You are,” he countered, his thumbs now drawing lazy circles where they rested. “Not that I mind, of course. I told you—you can look at me all you want, Sarang. I’m yours.”

Her lips parted in disbelief at his boldness, but before she could fire back, he tilted his head, that signature smirk tugging at his lips. “What? Am I wrong?”

“Completely,” she lied, her voice just a bit breathless.

“Liar,” he whispered, leaning in so his nose brushed against hers, teasing but never crossing the line. His voice was smooth, playful, but there was something softer underneath, a fondness he didn’t even try to hide.

She pushed lightly against his chest, but he didn’t budge, his arms holding her in place. “Oppa, you’re too much,” she said, though there was no weight to her words.

“Too much?” He raised an eyebrow, tapping his fingers in rhythm against her once more. “I think you love it. You wouldn’t know what to do if I stopped teasing you.”

Hana scoffed, but the grin she tried to suppress betrayed her. “If you stopped teasing me, I’d probably enjoy the peace and quiet for once.”

“Mm,” Hoseok hummed, pretending to consider her words. “But then you’d miss me. Admit it.”

“Never,” she replied quickly, though her fingers curled slightly against his chest, betraying her affection.

His grin widened, and he leaned just a little closer, his voice dropping into a soft murmur. “You’d miss me so much you wouldn’t know what to do with yourself. Don’t worry, though—I’m not going anywhere, Hani.”

The way he said her nickname, soft and possessive, sent a shiver through her. She tilted her head, looking up at him with her usual boldness. “Who says I want you to stay?”

“I do,” he said simply, his hands stopping their rhythm to rest more firmly on her hips. “And we both know I’m always right.”

Hana shook her head, but she couldn’t stop the smile that spread across her face. “You’re impossible.”

“And you love me for it,” he replied, his tone so confident and full of affection that her heart fluttered despite herself.

She rolled her eyes, but as she leaned her forehead against his chest, her small laugh gave her away. “Maybe,” she admitted softly.

“Maybe?” he teased, wrapping her tighter in his arms. “That’s not enough, Sarang. You’ll have to do better than that.”

She pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, her eyes warm and full of mischief. “I guess you’ll just have to keep guessing then.”

His laugh was low and rich, and he dipped his head to press a light kiss to the top of hers, his voice a soft murmur as he said, “Challenge accepted.”

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hana set down the steaming pot of ramyeon on the floor, a stack of books and papers quickly shoved aside to make space. “You didn’t eat lunch again, did you?” she asked, handing him a pair of chopsticks without waiting for an answer.

Hoseok stretched out lazily, his back resting against the side of her bed, his school jacket slung over her desk chair. “Didn’t have time,” he said casually, breaking apart the chopsticks with a satisfying snap. “Besides, why would I bother when I knew my Hani would feed me?”

“Your Hani?” she repeated, raising an eyebrow as she pulled her own chopsticks from the drawer of her desk. “Since when am I yours?”

“Since forever.” He said it so confidently that Hana didn’t even have a retort, though her cheeks warmed at his boldness.

“Psh. You're so full of yourself,” she muttered, dipping her chopsticks into the pot and pulling up a bundle of noodles. Carefully blowing on it, she lifted it toward his mouth.

Hoseok grinned and leaned in, his lips parting for the bite, but just as he was about to take it, Hana popped the noodles into her mouth instead, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Yah!” Hoseok’s indignant shout made her burst out laughing, the sound echoing through the tiny room. “You’re such a tease!”

“You’re too slow, yeobo,” she said smugly, twirling another bite onto her chopsticks.

Before she could even think about pulling the same trick twice, Hoseok’s hand shot out, grabbing her wrist. He tugged her toward him, forcing her to kneel closer. “What was that, Hani?”

“You’re too slow,” she repeated, but her voice wavered slightly as she realized just how close they were now. He was smirking, his confidence palpable as he leaned forward.

“Not slow enough,” he murmured, and without breaking eye contact, he plucked the noodles straight from her chopsticks with his mouth. His triumphant grin widened as he chewed.

Hana stared at him, dumbfounded for a moment, before her lips curved into an amused smile. “You’re impossible.”

“And you love it,” he teased, releasing her wrist to tap his fingers on the floor in a satisfied rhythm.

“Yah,” she scolded lightly, picking up the noodles on her chopsticks. “You’re lucky I even let you in here.”

“I know,” he replied, his tone suddenly softer. He nudged her knee with his shin. “Thanks for taking care of me, Hani.”

She paused for a moment, her teasing demeanor softening as well. “Someone has to,” she said quietly, pushing the next bite toward his mouth. “But this time, I won’t steal it.”

“Good,” he said, taking the bite with a smile that didn’t quite reach his teasing tone anymore.

For a moment, the room was quiet, the sound of the bubbling ramyeon and the distant hum of rain filling the space between them. It was a comfortable silence, one that didn’t need to be broken.

And when Hana picked up another bite to feed him, Hoseok let her, this time without any tricks.

Hana rolled her eyes as Hoseok lounged against the side of her bed, far too comfortable in her room as if he owned the place. The bowl of ramyeon sat between them, steam curling into the air, but her attention was more on him than the food.

“Are you going to actually eat,” she asked, tilting her head, “or just sit there and look pretty?”

“Pretty?” Hoseok smirked, his confidence shining in the way he shifted, leaning forward just slightly so their knees brushed. “Coming from you, Hani, I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“You would.” She sighed, unable to stop the small smile tugging at her lips.

He reached for the chopsticks, his long fingers brushing hers in a way that felt almost deliberate. Taking them from her hand, he twirled the noodles with an effortless flick of his wrist. “You’re the one who said I’m lucky you let me in here,” he said casually while chewing, his eyes flicking to hers. “Might as well see how far that luck goes.”

Hana raised an eyebrow. “What are you doing?”

“Feeding you,” he said simply, lifting the chopsticks with a bundle of noodles. “Since you’re always so busy taking care of me, I figured I’d return the favor.”

“Right.” She didn’t believe him for a second, but she leaned forward anyway, her lips parting to take the bite.

Just as she was about to reach it, Hoseok pulled back slightly, his smirk growing as he watched her pause mid-motion, her eyes narrowing.

“Oppa,” she said, a warning tone slipping into her voice, though the soft pout on her lips betrayed her irritation.

“Hmm?” He tilted his head, pretending to be innocent. “Something wrong, Hani?”

“You’re impossible,” she muttered, leaning forward again to take the bite, only for him to pull it back once more.

The playful glint in his eyes was unmistakable now as he watched her, his smirk deepening. “Am I?”

“Yes!” she huffed, her wrists straining on her knees as she leant forward, her cheeks puffing slightly in frustration. “Just give it to me already!”

Hoseok laughed then, a low, warm sound that filled the room and made her stomach flip. “Aigoo,” he said, shaking his head. “Look at you, all worked up over a little ramyeon.”

“Hoseok!” she whined, her voice softer now, laced with embarrassment as she avoided his gaze.

Finally, he relented, holding the chopsticks steady in front of her lips. “Alright, alright. Go on, jagiya. Take it.”

She leaned forward hesitantly, her lips brushing the chopsticks as she finally took the bite. The warmth of the noodles spread through her, but it was nothing compared to the way his gaze lingered on her as she ate.

“Good girl,” he said softly, his voice dropping just slightly as he watched her.

Hana froze mid-bite, her ears turning bright red and hot. She quickly covered her mouth with her hand, chewing slowly as she avoided his gaze.

“You like that, don’t you?” Hoseok teased, his smirk returning as he rested his elbow on his knee, his chin in his hand as he watched her squirm.

“An- Aniya,” she mumbled, her voice muffled by her hand.

“Liar,” he said easily, his tone light but with an edge of playfulness that made her stomach twist in a way she didn’t entirely mind.

Hana swallowed quickly, reaching for his chopsticks to distract herself. “You’re the worst,” she muttered, her voice still shaky.

“And yet, you keep inviting me over,” he shot back, his grin widening. “What does that say about you, Hani?”

She didn’t answer, her focus entirely on retrieving more noodles. Hoseok watched her with an amused glint in his eyes, clearly enjoying how flustered she’d become.

When she finally turned back to him, the bowl which she dished ramyeon out for him, in hand, he reached out to take it from her, his fingers brushing hers once more. This time, though, his touch lingered, his thumb grazing the back of her hand in a way that sent a shiver down her spine.

“Don’t work so hard,” he said softly, his tone suddenly gentler. “You’re going to wear yourself out taking care of everyone else.”

Hana blinked at him, surprised by the sudden shift in his demeanor. “I… I don’t mind,” she said quietly. “Especially with you.”

Hoseok’s smile softened at her words, and for a moment, the teasing glint in his eyes was replaced with something deeper. “You’re too good to me,” he murmured, his fingers tightening slightly around hers before he pulled away, taking the bowl with him.

“Someone has to be,” she replied, a small smile tugging at her lips as she leaned back on her hands, watching him.

Hoseok didn’t say anything, but the look he gave her said enough. It was the kind of look that made her heart race and her cheeks burn, the kind of look that reminded her just how completely and hopelessly she’d fallen for him.

“Alright,” he said after a moment, his smirk returning as he picked up the chopsticks. “Your turn to be fed, jagiya. But this time, no tricks. I promise.”

Hana narrowed her eyes at him, clearly not trusting his words, but she leaned forward anyway.

And, true to his word, he let her take the bite without pulling away.

“Mhm, my pretty girl,” he said again, his voice low and warm, and Hana couldn’t stop the shy smile that spread across her face, no matter how hard she tried.

“Do you need to go to the studio?” Hana asked, lifting her gaze to look at him, as he leaned against the side of her bed, his legs spread out. He grimaced at the reminder, checking his watch to see the time before nodding and with a sigh replying, “ne, at 5.”

She nods watching his reaction. “You don’t like it anymore?”

“It’s not that jagi,” He said with a sigh as he dished more noodles into his bowl. “The new management sucks, and is just giving me and eomma a hard time about Sulhee’s fees.”

“I thought that was covered because you worked there.” Hana stated, her brow furrowing with a tinge of confusion.

Hoseok nods, replying simply, “nado.”

Hana hums trying to change the subject as she senses him reaching the end of his rope with the studio, “are eomoni and Sulhee well?”

He smiles softly at the mention of his mom and sister, he nods as he continues to work his noodles in his bowl into the sauce. “Mhm, thankfully, they want to know when they’ll see you again,” Hana feels flushed at this, biting her lip to stop a full grin, she adores his mom and sister. “Eomma wants you to come for supper some time next week.”

“I’ll be there.”

Hana took another bite of her ramyeon, her chopsticks moving automatically as she chewed, but her mind wandered back to school. It had been a long, tiring day, and the thought of the conversation she’d had with Minho earlier still sat uncomfortably in the back of her mind. She glanced up at Hoseok, who was eating in quiet focus, his expression content and relaxed. She let out a small sigh, not sure whether to bring it up or not, but her curiosity got the better of her.

“Hoseok,” she said softly, her voice a little tentative.

Hoseok looked up at her, his chopsticks halfway to his mouth. “Hmm? What’s up, Hani?”

“There was something weird that happened today,” she said as she continued to eat, not really concerned with the story as an issue, more just telling him about her day. She didn’t even spare him a glance as she spoke. “The boys were talking about something around sex, and Minho and Kang just turned to Selina and I and asked if we’re virgins.”

Hoseok paused, his chopsticks still in midair. For a brief moment, his face showed no emotion, but his eyes darkened just slightly, something flickering behind them. He lowered his chopsticks carefully, taking his time to process her words.

“Is that so?” he said quietly, but his voice had lost its easy, playful tone. Hana could feel the shift in the air, the subtle change that made her realize just how seriously he was taking this.

Hana nodded slowly, her eyes drifting down to the bowl in front of her. "It wasn't really his business. I just... found it odd. Why would they ask us that?" She looked back up at him, her voice softer now, almost embarrassed. "I mean, I know I’m not obligated to answer anyone, but still."

Hoseok chewed slowly, his jaw working as he processed the information. His eyes stayed focused on her, dark and serious. He exhaled slowly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before meeting her gaze again.

“Did you guys feel uncomfortable?” he asked, his voice quieter now, no longer teasing or playful. The softness in his tone was unmistakable, and it made Hana feel like she was being cocooned in his reassurance, as if he would handle everything in his usual calm, unwavering way.

Hana thought for a moment before giving a small shake of her head. “Not really. I just thought it was weird. It’s between you and me, right?”

Hoseok smiled, though it was more of a soft, reassuring curve of his lips rather than a playful smirk. “That’s right,” he agreed, his voice low and steady. “It’s no one else’s business, Hani. No one else needs to know or ask anything. What matters is that you’re mine, and I’m yours. That’s it.”

The way he said it, so matter-of-fact, made her feel lighter, her shoulders relaxing as she heard his words sink in. The tightness in her chest from the awkwardness of Minho and Kang's question faded, and she let out a small sigh of relief.

“You’re right, plus Selina told him off but she looked kind of flustered,” she murmured, her eyes softening as she shifted her gaze to him. “But it still felt odd. Why would he ask me that?”

Hoseok’s expression hardened slightly, the protective glint in his eyes growing more pronounced. “I’ll deal with it,” he said quietly, though his words held a firm resolve. “No one will ask you guys anything like that again.”

Hana felt a little shiver run through her at his words, a mix of comfort and something else—something warm and possessive—that made her stomach flutter. His tone was so calm, so controlled, but there was a certain weight to his words that made her trust him even more. Hoseok was the kind of person who didn’t let things slide, especially when it came to her.

“Gomawo,” she whispered, feeling a wave of affection rush over her, as she leaned over and pressed a kiss to his mouth.

Hoseok smiled softly, his hand moving to hold the back of her neck, his fingers gently stroking against her skin. “You don’t have to thank me, Hani,” he said, his voice so tender now, like he was completely in tune with her feelings. “Just eat more. You’ve barely touched your ramyeon.”

Hana smiled, her heart lifting in her chest as she sat back to meet his gaze. There was always something so steady and comforting about him, the way he could read her and know exactly what she needed. He had a way of making everything feel like it would be okay.

He poured her a glass of water from the metal cup beside him, his movements slow and deliberate. As he handed it to her, he added, “Drink up. You need to take care of yourself, too. Don’t let those idiots in school stress you out.”

She nodded, grateful for his reassurance, and took a sip from the cup. When she set it down, she looked at him, her gaze softening. Something about the quiet, intimate moment made her feel closer to him than ever.

Hana chuckled softly, shaking her head at him as Hoseok carefully served more noodles into her bowl. His gaze lingered on her for a moment longer, soft and affectionate, before he settled back into his own seat.

“You’re not going to let me leave until I finish this, are you?” she teased, poking at her noodles.

“Not a chance,” Hoseok replied with a grin, leaning back in his chair with an ease that was entirely his own. “You’re eating it all, Hani. I’ve worked hard to feed you. Don’t waste it.”

As Hana ate, she felt his eyes on her, steady and constant. The way he looked at her made her feel like the most important person in the world, like nothing else mattered as long as they were together. She knew, deep down, that Hoseok would always protect her, always make sure she was okay.

And as she finished the last bite of her ramyeon, she knew that she was exactly where she belonged.

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The warm aroma of doenjang jjigae wafted through the Kim household as Hana set the table, her ears still warm from Hoseok, and her stomach still full from the ramyeon. She hadn’t said much since their parents arrived home—her father’s commanding presence always made her a little more reserved. Though strict, Mr. Kim wasn’t cruel. He simply had high expectations for his children, and Hana, as the youngest, bore the weight of being the "baby" of the family, even if she was far from one.

Namjoon was already seated at the table, scrolling lazily through his flip phone while their mother, Mrs. Kim, carried the last dish to the table. “Namjoon-ah, put that away. You’re always glued to that thing,” she scolded, though her tone was light.

"Ne, Eomma." Namjoon locked the phone and slid it into his pocket, sending a quick glance at Hana, who was placing a bowl of steamed rice in front of her father. He smirked, clearly still relishing the earlier scene he had walked in on.

Hana caught his expression and shot him a warning glare, her cheeks heating again. She knew exactly what he was thinking, but if he dared to bring it up now…

Hana didn’t mind discussing Hoseok with her brother or having him tease her about her relationship. However with elders like her parents, Hana was way more reserved and tried to downplay Hoseok as a friend. Her parents knew though, they had been dating for two years, everyone knew. Despite this Hana held up her modesty.

Her father, sitting at the head of the table, cleared his throat as he adjusted his tie. His deep, steady voice cut through the quiet hum of the room. “Eun-jung-ah,” he addressed Mrs. Kim, “did you check Hana’s grades this month?”

Mrs. Kim smiled warmly, sitting beside her husband. “Of course, Yeobo. Our Hana always does well, don’t you, agiya?” She glanced at Hana with a proud look.

Hana nodded quickly, sitting down between Namjoon and her mother. “Ne, Eomma. I’ve been keeping up with everything,” she said softly, keeping her eyes on her rice bowl as she started eating.

Namjoon snorted, breaking the moment of familial calm. “Oh, she’s been ‘keeping up,’ alright. With a certain someone, maybe?”

Hana froze mid-bite, her eyes darting to Namjoon in horror.

Their mother looked amused, but their father raised an eyebrow, setting down his spoon. “What’s this about?”

“Nothing!” Hana blurted, sitting up straight. “Jeongmal anieyo, Appa! Namjoon-oppa is just being annoying.”

Namjoon leaned back in his chair, clearly enjoying himself. “Eomma, Appa, I’m just saying, Hoseok-ah seems to be spending a lot of time in this house lately. Don’t you think, eomma?” He grinned mischievously at Hana, who shot him a glare so sharp it could’ve cut through steel.

Mrs. Kim chuckled, dabbing her mouth with a napkin. “Hoseok-ah is a nice boy. Polite and hardworking. Geuraedo, Hana-ya, don’t you think you should focus more on your studies than on... socializing?” Her tone was gentle but probing.

Before Hana could defend herself, Namjoon struck again. “Speaking of Hoseok-ah, did he leave his shoes by the door again? I almost tripped over them when I got home.”

Hana’s head snapped toward him, her eyes wide with panic. Her father’s frown deepened.

“Namjoon-oppa!” she exclaimed, her voice a high-pitched whisper as her ears burned. “Aniya! I haven’t seen him since school, you’re imagining things.”

Namjoon smirked, leaning closer to her and lowering his voice in mock seriousness. “Mmm, geureoke, because my imagination also tells me you two were studying biology?”

Hana’s jaw dropped, and before she could stop herself, she kicked him hard under the table.

“Aish!” Namjoon yelped, grabbing his shin. He glared at her, but the teasing grin never left his face. “Jinjja, Hana-ya!”

Their father, now fully attentive, set down his chopsticks and looked at Hana with a stern expression. “Hana.”

Her name, spoken so firmly, made her sit up straighter. She didn’t dare meet his eyes.

“Arachi? No funny business. Hoseok is a good boy, but you need to focus on school. I don’t want to hear about distractions.”

“Ne, Appa. Ara-yo,” Hana said quickly, her voice small. Her heart pounded in her chest, her embarrassment overwhelming.

Namjoon, clearly not done, leaned back in his chair with an exaggerated sigh. “Aigoo, Hoseok and distractions in the same sentence? Should I tell him you said that, Appa?”

Hana’s head whipped toward him, her eyes wide with alarm. “Oppa! Don’t you dare!”

Mrs. Kim laughed softly, shaking her head. “Namjoon, enough. Leave your sister alone.”

Namjoon smirked but held up his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. But honestly, Hana-ya, you’re not very convincing when you turn as red as a tomato every time someone says his name.”

“Oppa!”

Their father sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Namjoon, stop teasing your sister and eat. Hana, don’t give me a reason to regret being lenient about Hoseok. He’s a good boy, but boys are still boys.”

“Ne, Appa,” Hana muttered, staring hard at her rice. She felt like her entire body was on fire.

Namjoon leaned over again, whispering so their parents couldn’t hear. “Ya, if you’re this obvious now, what are you going to do when they find out about—”

“Geumanhara.” she hissed, kicking him again.

Mrs. Kim glanced between them, her curiosity piqued. “Find out about what?”

“Nothing!” Hana and Namjoon said in unison, their voices overlapping.

Their mother raised an eyebrow, but their father cut in. “Jeongmal, enough!” His voice carried enough authority to silence them both. “This isn’t a playground. Namjoon, you’re her older brother. Act like it. And Hana, don’t give him a reason to tease you.”

Hana nodded quickly, sneaking a glance at Namjoon, who gave her a knowing look. Despite his constant teasing, she knew he wouldn’t actually tell their parents about what he knew about Hoseok’s visits or that he was not home during said visits. But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t use it to torment her for as long as possible.

As the meal continued, the conversation shifted to more mundane topics—her father’s work, her mother’s errands, and Namjoon’s plans for the weekend. Hana stayed quiet, only chiming in when directly asked a question.

Her ears remained red for the rest of the evening.

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The house settled into a quiet stillness as everyone drifted off to sleep. Hana sat cross-legged on her bed, flipping through a textbook for the third time, though none of the words truly registered. Every few minutes, her eyes darted to the window, her heart jumping at the faintest sound. She smoothed down her pajama sleeves and adjusted her hair, wondering if Hoseok would be wearing his usual sly grin when he climbed up.

Her heart raced at the thought. She had smuggled one of the chocolate biscuits from dinner into her room, imagining the way Hoseok would grin as she handed it to him like she always did.

The minutes stretched on, and the waiting became unbearable. Her gaze flitted between her open book and the window as her mind wandered, reliving the feel of his hands brushing her waist earlier, the warmth of his lips against hers. She flushed at the memory, biting her lower lip with a shy smile.

Suddenly, the door creaked open, startling her. She slammed her book shut, eyes darting toward the doorway. Namjoon stood there, his tall frame silhouetted by the hallway light, arms crossed and a knowing smirk on his face.

“Jinjja?” he drawled, leaning against the doorframe. “You’re still up? Don’t tell me you’re waiting for Prince Charming to scale the tower.”

Hana felt heat rush to her cheeks. “Aniya.” she blurted, her voice a pitch too high. “I’m just... organizing my desk.” She gestured vaguely toward the neat pile of school supplies on her desk.

Namjoon raised an eyebrow, the corners of his mouth twitching in amusement. “Mmm, geureoke. Organizing your desk at midnight? That’s totally believable, Hana-ya.”

Hana grabbed the nearest thing—a pillow—and hurled it at him, but Namjoon sidestepped with ease, his smirk growing wider. “Ya! Namjoon-oppa! Just go to bed!”

Namjoon shrugged, stepping fully into the room. “Alright, alright. But seriously,” he said, his tone shifting into faux-seriousness, “just remember, appa might look chill, but if he catches a boy climbing through your window at this hour…” He made a slicing motion across his neck. “Jinjja, I wouldn’t want to be Hoseok.”

Hana glared at him, her face burning. “Oppa! Stop it!”

Namjoon leaned closer, his grin turning mischievous. “I’m just saying. Imagine appa walking in here and seeing you two—"

“Namjoon-oppa!” Hana cut him off, flailing her arms. “Nothing’s happening, okay?!”

Namjoon laughed, ruffling her hair. “Arasseo, arasseo. I’m just looking out for you, agiya. Don’t look so flustered.”

“I’m not flustered!” Hana huffed, her face still crimson.

Namjoon gave her a knowing look before heading back to the doorway. “Just don’t get caught. And don’t keep the poor guy waiting too long next time.”

Hana threw another pillow at him, but he was already gone, his laughter echoing down the hall.

With a frustrated sigh, she flopped back onto her bed, staring at the ceiling. “Why is he like this?” she muttered, though a small smile tugged at her lips despite herself.

A soft vibration from her bedside table caught her attention. She grabbed her flip phone, her heart leaping when she saw Hoseok’s name on the screen.

Hoseok: “Hani-ya, I can’t come tonight. Something came up. I’ll make it up to you. Goodnight, sarang.”

Hana stared at the message for a long moment, her chest tightening with a mix of disappointment and fondness. She typed back quickly:

Hana: “Gwenchanha, oppa. Don’t overwork yourself. Sweet dreams.”

Setting the phone down, she sighed, brushing her fingers across her lips as if still feeling the warmth of their earlier kiss. Even though tonight felt a little emptier without him, his message was enough to comfort her.

The night outside was still and quiet, the faint chirping of crickets lulling her to sleep.

#jung hoseok #my fic #jhope fic #hoseok #hoseok x oc #bangtan #bts fanfic

1 note · View note