#hwang jun ho x reader

[lieutenantbatshit]

until i found you. (hwang jun-ho x reader)

Summary: You meet Hwang Jun-ho at a prestigious police conference where you're invited as a guest speaker. The moment you lock eyes from across the room, there's a spark. Throughout the conference, you catch each other's gaze again and again, drawn into a silent exchange neither of you fully understands yet.

A/N: Jun-ho is my current fixation lately. In-ho still holds a special place in my delulu heart but Jun-ho is becoming my bias wrecker 😩 why are the Hwang brothers so damn fine

The hum of polite chatter filled the auditorium as the sea of uniforms, sharp suits, and the occasional flash of polished badges reflected under the stage lights. You stood at the front of the hall, just a little off-center from the podium, your presentation slides illuminating behind you with quiet authority.

The conference was about a cross-border event — a joint police training and strategy summit between Korea and other Southeast Asian nations. You’ve been invited as a guest speaker, someone with deep experience in cross-cultural criminal justice cooperation. Your name was announced earlier, your credentials were read aloud to a roomful of attentive faces.

But one face — one set of eyes — kept pulling your focus.

He sat in the third row from the front, his uniform neat, his posture perfect. There was something in the way his gaze lingered. It was steady and analytical, but soft at the edges. Every time your eyes flicked across the crowd, they locked with his. Not in a challenging way, but like he was trying to memorize you.

You finished your speech to a round of professional applause, and as the moderator wraps up with closing remarks, people began to rise, gather their folders, and shift into conversation clusters. You slipped your notes back into your bag when you heard soft footsteps approach you.

“Excuse me,” a voice said. You glanced up to see him, and there he was, the man you kept locking eyes with. 

He offered you a modest smile, the kind that’s all in the eyes, and gave a slight bow before speaking. “I wanted to thank you for your talk. It was… different. In a good way.”

You smiled back. “Different is better than boring, right?”

He chuckled, low and slightly bashful. “Definitely.”

There was a beat of silence before you tilted your head a little and asked, “I didn’t catch your name earlier…?

“Oh, right,” he said quickly, his eyes widening like he couldn’t believe he forgot. “Sorry. I’m Jun-ho. Hwang Jun-ho.”

“Nice to meet you, Jun-ho,” you offered your hand as he shook it gently. It felt formal, but at the same time, something was lingering in the gesture.  He scratched the back of his neck and then held something out in both hands. “I… thought you might like this. It’s not much.”

You glanced down and saw it — a hanji bookmark. It was delicately crafted, with a design of a single magnolia blossom inked in soft watercolor tones. At the bottom, there’s a tiny Korean proverb written in Hangul: 시작이반이다 — “Starting is half the task.”

“It’s handmade,” Jun-ho said quickly. “By my mom, actually. She likes to craft. I carry a few when I travel.”

You ran your fingers gently along the textured paper, feeling your heart catch a little. You couldn’t help but smile. “This is beautiful. Thank you.”

He shrugged with a small grin, as if he was glad you liked it but unsure how to say it out loud. Then, his hand slipped into his pocket, pulling out his phone.

“If it’s okay… could I get your Instagram? Or whatever you use,” he added, with the faintest blush on his cheeks. “For professional networking, of course.”

You stifled a smile as you typed in your username on his phone. He sent a message immediately, just a wave emoji, and you both shared a small, private laugh before another officer called his name from across the room.

“Duty calls,” he said, giving you a two-finger salute. You gave him one back as he headed off. 

You left the venue a little later, the bookmark tucked carefully between your planner. The sun dipped low over the skyline as your ride dropped you at the hotel entrance. You found yourself smiling throughout the ride, as you couldn’t help but think of Jun-ho.

As you were about to head inside your hotel, your phone buzzed, which made you blush even more. You read the text, pressing your lips as you felt yourself giggle internally.

“I would love to have lunch with you tomorrow if you’re still here.”

You stared at the screen for a beat, your heart hammering. You weren’t sure what tomorrow would bring, but tonight?

Tonight felt like the start of something quietly extraordinary. 

——

You arrived five minutes earlier at the quiet little hanok-style cafe tucked into a side street, just a few blocks from your hotel. The sky was hazy with the warmth of the early afternoon, and the scene of roasted barley tea drifted from the open windows. The carved wooden sign above the doorway gave off a warmth that matches the soft glow in your chest.

You were nervous, and you hated that you were nervous. It had been a long time since you went out on a date.

As you stepped inside, the hush of the cafe wrapped around like a well-worn poem. He was already there.

Jun-ho sat at a corner table, near a window with paper screens casting soft golden light over his face. His uniform was replaced by a casual dark button-up, sleeves rolled slightly at the wrists. He looked at his phone, lips slightly pursed, but as if he sensed you, he lifted his head.

And then, he smiled.

It wasn’t wide nor showy. It was quiet, just the barest curve of his lips and his eyes softened, but it hit you harder than you expected.

“You’re early,” you said, trying to sound casual despite the flutter in your chest.

He stood, brushing nonexistent crumbs off the table. “You beat me by a minute. I was just… making sure I had the right place.”

You laughed softly and nodded. “Looks like we’re both terrible at pretending we’re not excited.”

He smiled, then gestured for you to sit. You slid into the seat across from him, suddenly aware of how close the table was. It was close enough to notice how warm his eyes were, and close enough to hear the subtle nervousness in the way he cleared his throat. 

“Thank you for meeting me,” he said. “I wasn’t sure if you… I mean, I hoped you would.”

You glanced at him, surprised by the honesty. It made your stomach twist in the best way. “I was hoping you would ask.”

And there it was again — that moment where your eyes locked just a little too long, and you felt like the room became quiet around you. 

After placing your orders, you sipped your tea to distract yourself from the wild thump in your chest, but your curiosity won.

“So,” you began, watching him over the rim of your cup. “I’ve been wondering, what made you want to become a police officer?”

Jun-ho leaned back slightly, cradling his cup between his palms. “Ah… that’s a bit of a story,” his gaze dropped for a second, then lifted again. “But mostly, it was my older brother.”

“He was a police officer, too?”

He nodded. “Yeah. Actually, he raised me. He was… everything. You know those people who just get it? He was like that. He’s brave and steady. The kind of person you wanted beside you when the world fell apart.”

“He sounds incredible.”

“He is,” Jun-ho said softly, his fingers still resting on the cup. “I remember watching him graduate from the academy. He looked so proud in his uniform. That’s who I want to be — someone people can trust.”

You watched the way his face shifted between pride and something quieter. “He would be really proud of you,” you said, meaning it more than you expected. 

He looked up, and for a second, it was like the words settled into his chest. “Thanks,” he said quietly. “That means more than you think.”

The silence between you wasn’t awkward. It felt warm, like a gentle tide coming in. Your food arrived, and the conversation softened into laughter, into stories. You asked about his life, his favorite childhood memory that included fishing with his brother on a rainy day, his current guilty pleasure with an embarrassing addiction to cheesy Korean crime dramas, and his surprisingly poetic habit of swimming at night to clear his head.

And as you listened, you caught yourself staring. He was kind, thoughtful, a little shy, and so quietly beautiful. You weren’t expecting this — you weren’t expecting him. 

When you took the last bite of your food as the sun began to stretch longer across the street outside, you both rose reluctantly. 

“I didn’t think today would turn out like this,” you said, feeling your cheeks warm.

“Me neither,” he replied, slipping his phone into his back pocket. “But I’m glad it did.”

You hesitated, unsure if this is where the spell breaks, but then he spoke again.

“Would you… want to walk for a bit? Or do you have to head back?”

You nodded before your heart could second-guess it. “I’ve got time.”

You and Jun-ho walked side by side down a quiet street near the cafe, neither of you quite ready to say goodbye. There was a gentle hush between you as if it was comforting, like a song you didn’t want to end.

Your eyes caught on something neatly lined up beside a storefront, seeing electric scooters for rent down the alley. You stopped walking, much to Jun-ho’s surprise.

You grinned and pointed. “Those. Have you ever ridden one?”

He followed your gaze and blinked. “The scooters? Not… really. Not properly.”

You turned to him with a sudden mischievous glint in your eyes. “Want to?”

He chuckled, his eyebrows raising like he couldn’t believe you were serious, but the corner of his mouth lifted in that smile that’s fast becoming your favorite. “Right now?”

“Unless you’re scared,” you teased.

“I’m not scared,” he said, his eyes narrowing playfully. “You are so going to crash into something.”

Five minutes later, after figuring out the app and securing two scooters, you both rolled shakily into a quiet park trail, laughing like kids on summer break. The wind rushed through your hair, and your laughter echoed under the trees. You glanced sideways to see Jun-ho beside you. He was focused, a little awkward, but grinned like he hadn’t in years.

And in that moment with just you, him, the golden sky, and the light breeze, you felt it.

You weren’t thinking about your career or your hotel room or the thousand things you’ve left unanswered in your life. You thought about the way he shouted “Watch out!” as you nearly veered off the path, how he reached out instinctively to steady your scooter, his hand brushing your arm with a spark that shot down your spine.

Eventually, the path sidened into a quiet overlook facing the river. The sun dipped enough to paint the water in liquid gold. You both slowed to a stop and hopped off, breathless and flushed with laughter.

Jun-ho leaned against his scooter, arms crossed, watching you try to smooth your windblown hair. “That was…” he began, searching for the word.

“Exactly what I needed,” you finished for him, chest still rising with joy.

You stepped forward to stand beside him, eyes on the horizon, and then he did it.

Jun-ho reached out gently and brushed something from your hair, his fingers lingering just long enough to make your breath catch. Then, just as softly, he tucked a loose strand behind your ear. You looked up at him, and he didn’t look away. 

The air stilled between you. It wasn’t heavy nor expectant, just full. Full of possibility and something real.

“I’m glad I met you,” he said quietly, like it’s a secret he’s only just realized.

You knew by the way your heart skipped, by the warmth that bloomed across your chest, by the way your body leaned ever so slightly toward him. It was just a crush — it was that quiet kind of love, the kind that sneaks up on you, gentle and whole.

“I’m glad I met you, too,” you whispered.

Jun-ho didn’t try to kiss you, and didn’t rush the moment. Instead, he turned to face the river again, but this time, his hand brushed against yours. His pinky curled around yours in a quiet, wordless gesture of trust. 

And you held it there. Just two hearts, and two hands. But one soft, beautiful beginning.

You and Jun-ho stayed like that, side by side, pinkies linked, watching the sky shift from gold to lavender. He didn’t speak for a moment, as if reluctant to break the peace you’ve both fallen into.

Then, in a quiet voice, he spoke. “There’s a gala night tonight as part of the conference. I wasn’t planning to go, but…”

You glanced at him, curiosity tugging at your lips. “But?”

His eyes flicked to yours, then down to your still-linked hands. “But I’d really like to go if you’ll be there.”

Your chest tightened at the simplicity of the question. He wasn’t trying to impress you — he just wanted to share the night with you.

You nudged him with your shoulder. “Is this you asking me on a second date?”

Jun-ho blinked, then laughed under his breath, caught off guard but clearly amused. He shook his head slightly, that smile tugging at his lips again. “Well then,” he said, turning toward you a bit more. “Yes, I’m asking you on our second date.”

You met his gaze, holding it. “Then I’ll be there,” you said. “Second date approved.”

There was a moment where you both just stood there, like something between you had quietly deepened. He cleared his throat. “I’ll pick you up at seven.”

“Looking forward to it,” you replied, meaning every word.

And when you walked back together, a little slower than necessary, the city fading into gold behind you, your heart felt full, as if it already knew.

This night might just become one you’ll never forget.

——

Back in your hotel room, the door clicked shut behind you as you exhaled with a shaky kind of giddiness. You pressed your back to the door for a second, grinning at nothing. Well, actually, at everything. At him.

Jun-ho.

The way he touched your hair, the way he looked at you like you were something rare, the way he asked you to the gala, not with grandeur, but with sincerity.

You crossed the room, heart fluttering as your step toward the bed where your dress hung, pressed and untouched until now. You hadn’t even considered going to the gala before, not until he gave you a reason. 

The fabric was a deep, elegant shade, something that catches the light in soft shimmers. As you slipped it on, zipping it up slowly, you couldn’t help but imagine his reaction. The way his eyes might linger just a second too long.

You turned to the mirror and smoothed your hands down the fabric, applying light makeup, brushing your hair with extra care. But more than anything, you felt the flow from inside — the kind that no lipstick or highlighter could match.

The feeling of being wanted. Of being seen.

Not just for what you presented at the conference. Not for your resume.

But for you. 

You heard the knock — three soft taps, a pause, and a fourth like a heartbeat. You smoothed your hands down your dreess and opened the door.

Jun-ho stood here, stilling at the sight of you. He work a tailored black suit, shirt collar neat, tie a deep navy, His hair was freshly styled, though a strand already rebels against gravity. His eyes traveled over you slowly, not a in way that objectifies, but like he was seeing something too lovely to name.

“Wow,” he murmured, blinking once. “You look…”

He trailed off, clearly searching for a word that would do you justice. 

You smiled softly. “I’ll take a ‘wow’.”

He laughed under his breath, his cheeks tinged pink. “Fair enough.”

The drive to the venue was short, filled with gentle music and even gentler conversation, your hands nearly brushing between you. When you arrived, the ballroom glowed beneath a canopy of chandeliers, each crystal catching the light like raindrops frozen mid-fall.

The crowd inside were elegantly dressed — officers, speakers, professionals from different corners of the conference — but the moment Jun-ho offered you his arm, it was like everything faded into soft blur. 

All you saw was him.

You walked in together, and more than a few eyes followed. At the far end, a long, wide table has been prepared for selected guests. Jun-ho led you there, pulling out your chair before sitting beside you. Around you, small talks started, light conversations about caseword, training protocols, someone making a joke about badge polish, but none of it really landed for you, and definitely not for him.

Because you were both leaning subtly toward each other, your knees brushing under the table, and neither of you moved away. Jun-ho murmured something about the chandeliers reminding him of the snowfall near the mountains back home, and you smiled like he was sharing a secret no one else to hear.

At one point, someone two seats down chuckled. “You two look like you’re at a private dinner.”

You glanced up, startled, but Jun-ho scratched the back of his neck sheepishly, lips pressed into a smile.

“We’re just catching up,” he said casually, though the way he looked at you afterward betrayed something deeper.

You met his gaze, and your heart already knew.

The din of the ballroom continues, glasses clinking, music weaving into the air. But for you, time has softened into a slow, golden rhythm. It wasn’t loud nor showy.

A quiet knowing. A feeling that maybe… the space between you and Jun-ho was always meant to be filled.

A fork clinked against a glass somewhere down the table, as someone gave a short toast. Applause followed, then more laughter filled the air.

And then, the band kicked in with that unmistakable brass intro.

“Do you remember… the 21st night of September...”

Your eyes widened, heart leaping with excitement. “Oh my god,” you whispered, turning to Jun-ho with your hands already halfway up in the air. “I love this song.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Of course you do.”

You didn’t give him time to be smug. You stood up quickly and reached for his hand. “Now,” you grinned, tugging him up from his seat. “Dance floor. Let’s go.”

He laughed and let himself be pulled to the center of the room, where a few guests had already started to move. The music filled every corner of the ballroom, infectious and golden, like the soundtrack to a memory that hasn’t been made yet.

You start swaying, playfully off-beat, shaking your arms with abandon just to make him laugh harder. He laughed hard, his eyes crinkled as his dimple peeked, his expression somewhere between “I can’t believe this happening” and “I wouldn’t trade this for anything”. 

Then suddenly, he steps in, and he moves.

You froze mid-twirl, eyes wide. “Wait, what? Jun-ho… you can dance?”

He smirked, one eyebrow raised. “Why do you sound so surprised?”

“Because you look like you listen to crime podcasts while folding laundry in your free time,” you said breathlessly.

He chuckled, spinning you once, just enough to make your hair fan out, and pulled you gently back toward him.

“Grew up with an older brother who made me learn every Earth, Wind & Fire song,” he admitted, sliding effortlessly into step beside you. “He said rhythm was essential for any undercover work.”

You laughed, the image of a younger Jun-ho dancing around a tiny apartment flashing in your mind. He caught your hands again, and this time, he led. You both moved in sync, like you’ve done this a hundred times. Like your bodies already knew each other’s stories.

People around you clapped along or cheered, but none of it mattered. Your world has narrowed to his hands on yours, his confident smile, the way he moved with you — not in front of you, not over you, but with you.

The chorus hits as you both sing the words, half-laughing, half-sincere. And it felt like September — warm, golden, and a little nostalgic and electric. 

You can’t remember the last time you felt this light, this free, and this alive. And when he twirled you again, his hands strong and sure, you realized that you trusted him.

Not just with your hand, but maybe with your heart.

The final notes of September faded out, laughter and applause echoing as dancers began catching their breath. You and Jun-ho were still in the middle of the dance floor, cheeks flushed, and hearts racing.

“I can’t believe you were holding out on me,” you said between breaths, managing to tease him still.

He grinned, slightly out of breath himself. “I had to save some surprises.”

But before you can answer, the band shifts. The moon changes as soft guitar chords ripple into the air, something gentle, longing, and familiar.

“Georgia… wrap me up in all your…”

Your breath caught. You know this song.

Jun-ho’s eyes softened as he heard it too, and without a word, he stepped forward again. This time he was slower, more intentional. He then offers his hand.

No more playfulness. No more crowd.

Just the two of you.

You slipped your hand into his, and he drew you in. He placed one hand lightly on your waist, the other cradling your hand with a gentleness that makes your chest ache. You rest your free hand on his shoulder, and just like that, the rest of the ballroom disappears.

You swayed together under the golden lights, moving as if the music was written just for the two of you. His eyes didn’t leave yours. There was no teasing now, only a quiet intensity, a kind of silent honesty that only showed up when words fell short.

Your fingers curled slightly against his shoulder. 

“I would never fall in love again until I found her…”

Jun-ho’s voice was barely a whisper when he spoke. “I used to wonder if I could ever feel this… light again.”

You tilted your head up at him. “And now?”

His gaze dropped to your lips, then back to your eyes. “Now I don’t want this moment to end.”

Neither do you.

Because in his arms, the world felt still. You’ve never felt so completely seen, so carefully held in someone’s presence. You leaned your forehead against his, and he closed his eyes at the contact, breathing you in like the only thing anchoring him.

When the chorus builds, he draws back just enough to look at you again. You can feel it between you. It was unspoken, but alive in every heartbeat. 

You nodded, and that was all he needed

Jun-ho leaned in slowly, giving you every second to change your mind, but you didn’t. You closed the distance the rest of the way, your lips meeting in a kiss that wasn’t rushed nor dramatic.

It was warm, certain, and true.

A kiss that said “I see you,” and a kiss that answered, “Me too.”

When you parted, your hands were still linked, your smiles quiet and glowing. The music faded as the night continued, but something between you had changed. 

What started with glances across a conference turned into a story that was only just beginning.

----

|| REQUEST HERE ||

[takuma-talkz]

SEALS AND SOULS

A Kang Dae-ho x Hwang Jun-ho x Fem!reader smut

Summary: Dae-ho needs to get away from his crazy ex-girlfriend’s place for a few days. She came to his job and got him fired so he could spend more time with her, she grew jealous and overbearing when his sisters came over to hang out with him. He just need some time to relax without her breathing down his neck! Good thing that his best friend, Hwang Jun-ho and his wife are more than willing to lend a hand.

warnings: cucking, oral (m! receiving), fingering, b-b-b-backshots!, mating presses, hair pulling, full Nelson position, Jun-ho records everything (fucking freak—), very light face slapping, spanking, handjobs, degradation/praise, female orgasm denial, mentally abusive partners (just Dae-ho’s ex), mentioned past stalking, possessive behavior

WC: 1.8k

This fic is inspired by @meadowfics

taglist: @countyourfreckleslikestars

Dae-ho sat in witness protection, a small bag in hand. He needed to get away. His girlfriend, now ex-girlfriend had done everything to ensure Dae-ho completely depended on her.

She got him fired from his job, threatened his sisters on multiple occasions, and even locked him in the house after changing the locks.

He was sick of it. He put in a report with the police. His best friend, Jun-ho was making sure to personally handle his case. 

“Where will you stay?” Jun-ho flips through the case portfolio. Screenshots, records, and photos are all accounted for.

“Can’t stay with my sisters, she’ll definitely look there.” Dae-ho ran a hand across his face, he seemed tense and stressed. Shoulders square and jaw clenched.

“I have a guest bedroom, you can stay with me and my wife.” Jun-ho patted Dae-ho’s back. Dae-ho’s eyes shot up.

“Oh no, I can’t intrude. I’ll just stay at a hotel.” Dae-ho had a tight smile.

“Nonsense, I wouldn’t be a good best friend if I let do that. Plus, my wife would be furious too.”

Dae-ho finally had a genuine smile on his face. “Alright, only because I can never deny a plate of her cooking.”

“I’m home.” Jun-ho calls out to you as Dae-ho and himself enter the house. You come sprinting out from the kitchen.

“Jun-ho, you’re home!” You embrace him and kiss his cheek. Eyes drifting to Dae-ho as you register his presence.

“Dae!” You threw your arms around his neck, embracing your guest. He chuckled, and one arm secured you around your waist.

Jun-ho watched the interaction with a smile on his face, but a twist of strange desire broiled in his stomach. Watching Dae-ho embrace you, his wife was entirely innocent but his thoughts were quite the opposite.

You and Dae-ho pull back from each other. Smiling still beaming as your hands remain on his shoulders.

“My, what brings you here?” You ask, fixing your pajama shorts.

Jun-ho wraps his arm around your shoulders. “That’s something to be discussed over dinner.”

Dinner. You suddenly remember that you were making dinner.

“Shit!” Darting back to the kitchen. Your actions cause the men to laugh. Jun-ho elbows Dae-ho and guides him to the dinner table.

Shortly after a few minutes, you brought out three plates of food and a beer for Jun-ho.

“Dae-ho, what would you like to drink? A beer, or maybe some tea?”

“A beer, please.” He smiles as you nod. 

When you return with another beer and a glass of water, everyone digs in. Dae-ho takes one bit and dramatically sighs, hand over his heart.

“Haven’t had a good meal like this in forever.” Dae-ho moans in delight. You giggle at his overdramatized display of delight.

The three of you enjoy a nice, home-cooked meal, light conversation filling the house packed with good laughs and heartfelt jokes.

You finally ask the big question, the one Jun-ho told you to wait to mention.

“So, um Dae-ho.” You clear your throat as Jun-ho cleans up after everyone. “Will you be staying a few days?”

He clears his throat back. “Just until the police arrest my ex.”

“Jun-ho told me a little bit, from what I heard she’s a demon sent from hell.” Your comment makes him chuckle.

“A demon? More like an overlord.” That got a booming laugh out of Jun-ho. 

“[Name’s] the same way when I forgot her morning latte.”

You gasp in astonishment and Dae-ho bursts out into a fit of laughter.

You three sat on the couch, watching a show about an overdramatized polyamorous relationship. You couldn’t help and notice that the two male love interests looked eerily similar to Jun-ho and Dae-ho.

Dae-ho stood up and stretched, bones cracking and muscles contracting through his compression tee. You pressed your thighs together as Dae-ho made his way to the bathroom.

You glance over at Jun-ho, who’s looking back at you adjusting his crotch. 

One nod, that one nod, and you already knew what to do.

A few minutes later, Dae-ho returns from the bathroom. He rolls his shoulders as he sits back down. You take the opportunity to trace the firm muscles of his back with your delicate hands.

Dae-ho jumps at the feeling. “It’s fine, you’re tense just relax.” You giggle.

You work your fingers into the many knots in his shoulders and his head lopes back with a groan. You get him distracted before Jun-ho takes over. 

You take the opportunity to slide off the couch and sit on your knees, between Dae-ho’s man-spreading legs. 

Your fingers tingle with the need to reach for Dae-ho’s zipper. He’s still lost in the feeling of disappearing stress being lifted from his shoulders to register the slow unzipping.

Gentle hands fish out his cock, holy fuck he’s huge.

You lay his cock against your face, it’s hot and heavy. His cock twitches slightly, you press open-mouth kisses on a prominent vein on his dick.

Dae-ho locks in on the sight of you, he tries to remove you from him until Jun-ho grabs his wrist. 

“Let her.”

You take Dae-ho into your mouth, whining at the stretch. Jun-ho wrapped his arm around Dae-ho’s shoulders, guiding one of his hands to the back of your head.

“Go on, she’ll take everything you give her.”

Dae-ho moans as you flick your tongue over his tip. Jun-ho pulls out his phone, the flash indicating he’s recording. 

Tipping his head back, Dae-ho thrusts his hips up into your mouth. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as you start gagging on his cock.

You start throbbing uncomfortably. Jun-ho noticed your twitching hands, he pats your bobbing head.

“Wanting to touch yourself while your husband records you sucking off his best friend? Such a nasty little wife.” 

You moan at his words and in turn, cause Dae-ho to whimper and thrust faster into your channel.

Jun-ho keeps you and Dae-ho in the frame as he slides next to you. Fingers tracing over your soaking mound, your yelps absorbed on Dae-ho’s cock. Dae-ho finally cracks, releasing down your throat.

“Swallow.” You’re tipping your head back, taking all of Dae-ho’s cum at your husband’s command. 

“Oh my god.” Dae-ho’s covering the lower half of his head with his left hand.

Jun-ho lifts you to your feet and down into Dae-ho’s lap. You rub your sticky, wet cunt still clad with your panties and shorts against him.

He hugged your back against his chest. Your legs dangle off the tops of his arms.

Jun-ho, still recording, kneels on the couch beside you. Angry red cock pointing right at you.

You wrap a small, gentle hand around the base, jerking him while flicking the tip with your tongue.

You prod your insides to accommodate for Dae-ho’s length. Three fingers darting in and out of yourself causing your arousal to flood down your inner thighs.

Jun-ho releases his tip from your pretty lips. Hand caressing your cheek before patting it with a bit of force.

“Do you want his dick inside of you?”

“Wan’ it—need it!”

“Slutty little wife.” were the last words you heard before Dae-ho connects his hands behind your head.

This action causing your legs to spread apart further. Dae-ho’s whimpers as his cock pulses against your heat. 

He lifts you up slightly before making you take the full of his girth. You moan and squirm, yelping when Jun-ho spanks your clit.

“Don’t move, be good and take him.”

Dae-ho is gentle when he’s moving inside you, reaching deep and filling you completely. 

His hot breath against your neck, as he forces your head to watch as he fucks you. 

Jun-ho jerks himself. Watching this, seeing his beautiful wife take his best friend’s cock was always a deep desire of his.

Dae-ho moans at the feeling of your warm insides clench around him. “So good, Dae-ho more—!”

Dae-ho stands up and plants a foot into the couch, thrusting upwards into your tight heat. His hips meeting your backside every time. You scream in delight, as he fucks you. 

You lock your daze with the camera and Jun-ho, watching as your husband jerks himself off to you and Dae-ho.

“Tell me, wife. Does his cock feel good?”

“So good—ah! His cock feels amazing!” 

Dae-ho groans in your ear. “Fuck, Jun-ho! Your—ngh! Wife’s pussy is so f-fucking tight-gah!”

“Gonna—gonna cummm—!” You throw your head 

“Dae-ho, stop.” Dae-ho comes to a hard stop, pulling out and cumming long strings that land on the couch.

“Jun-ho! Why did you make him stop?!” You swat at the phone. 

He lightly backhands your face, sticking his thumb into your mouth.

“Pick the next position.” He nods at Dae-ho.

The camera captures your face as Dae-ho fucks you from behind with a hand tangled in your hair. He lifts and shoves your head up and down on Jun-ho’s dick. 

Crossed eyes as he plunges you into your husband’s pubes.

Jun-ho groans, pressing your back into an arch.

Dae-ho leans over your body, breathing down Jun-ho’s chest.

“You gonna cum again, Dae?” He pants against the other man's forehead. Dae-ho lifts your head and allows you to take desperate breaths of air.

“It’s her pussy. It’s so fucking tight and warm.” 

“Cum inside of her then.”

Dae-ho’s thrusts come to a complete stop. You whine loudly, weakly slapping his waist. 

“I-inside…?” 

“You wouldn’t mind, right baby?” Jun-ho lifts your head by your chin.

“Cum…want cum inside—please!”

Jun-ho kissed you tenderly. “If you want his cum, get into position.”

You whimper, turning around and lying against Jun-ho's chest, spreading your legs for Dae-ho.

“Go on, ask him nicely.” Jun-ho tweaks your left nipple.

“Please, Dae-ho! I want your cum inside of me!” You add a whimper to the end of your plea, hoping he’ll just bend your legs to your shoulders and fuck your brains out.

And he did just that.

Dae-ho held your legs to either side of your head and thrust deep into you with a resounding, rough clap of sweaty skin.

Each thrust was punctual. His movements were fueled with every intent to make you come.

Jun-ho pinched your clit and rolled it in tight circles. 

You choke on your moan as you claw at your husband’s arms. Head dizzy and slipping, only to be pulled back in when Jun-ho squishes your cheeks together.

Dae-ho picks up his thrusts.

“You want my cum, huh?”

“Yesh—!”

Dae-ho palms a breast, pinching and pulling. 

“Fuck—! Dae, please! Let me cum—!”

Dae-ho meets Jun-ho’s eyes, and your husband nods.

“Go on, cum.” You finally released at Dae-ho’s command.

You let out a wail, it pierces through Dae-ho’s and Jun-ho’s nerves, prompting both men to reach their peaks.

Dae-ho’s thick, warm seed splattered all around your insides. Thank god for birth control.

Your head is clouded and your vision is blurred when Jun-ho sets you to rest against Dae-ho’s chest.

Dae-ho pats your head, planting a soft kiss on it while Jun-ho starts the aftercare process.

“F-feeling better, Dae?” You whisper softly to him.

“So much better…” His forehead presses against yours.

Jun-ho kisses your hairline, wiping the sweat off your body.

“You did such a good job, my wife. Right, Dae-ho?”

“An amazing job.”

[userluhna]

࿔⋆ BLURRED WORLD

hwang junho x ex!pregnant!reader

based on this request

warnings: reader is pregnant but alone. inho is referred as inho even in the games. breakup. normal squid game stuff.

words: 1.4k

a/n: not sure about if this is good honestly. hope i did well. might do a part 2 because i need more of hwang junho. also, didn’t focus on the chubby reader hope its okay? just so you know anyone can read this!! didn’t put any specific mention of body image okay?

enjoy! :)

the world blurred—just like it did that day when junho told you he didn’t want to be with you anymore. or maybe he just couldn’t. you didn’t quite catch it at first, his voice muffled, his words barely clear through the lump in your throat. tears welled up in your eyes, even though he wiped them away gently.

“i’m not there enough,” he had said quietly, voice heavy with regret. “i know i hurt you… and i’m sorry.” it was true. you were hurt, and you felt so alone. but god, how you loved him.

and then the world blurred again—when the second line appeared on the pregnancy test you took that afternoon. outside, the rain was falling softly, the kind of rain you liked—the kind that junho would have used as an excuse to rest his head on your thigh. but now, the rain kept falling, and you were alone. the only thing resting on your thigh was a pregnancy test and the wet tracks of tears. no warmth. no hand. no head.

two months later, the world blurred once more. you stood in the middle of a vast field, surrounded by people in blue jackets, numbers stitched on their backs. the last thing you remembered clearly was the paper card. your hands trembled as you dialed the phone, giving your name and birthday. you don’t remember how the suited man approached, or what he said. you don’t remember skipping your doctor’s appointment for the baby growing inside you. everything had become a blur, time folding into itself over the months. you don’t remember how you made it through it all. the field felt endless. your legs heavy and slow, heart pounding in your chest. maybe it was the weight of the baby, or the anxiety that clung to you after the first shot, the screams, the blood. your shoulders felt heavier now, carrying something invisible but heavy. but you made it. above the final line—you made it.

when you returned to the dorms, people clustered in small groups, moving toward the man who had screamed before—player 456. you stayed apart, not because you wanted to, god no, but because your legs still felt unreliable. as time passed, people quieted down, ate, waited. you found yourself sitting near a group of middle-aged men. you listened, pretending to not be obvious. one caught your gaze and laughed softly. you hadn’t thought anyone could laugh here.

“hey, you just gonna stare all day?” his voice was light, teasing, not mean. you looked up at him just as he tapped the seat beside him and 456. “come here.”

your legs moved before you could say no. you sat. “we were just exchanging names. what’s yours?” “y/n,” you said, a small smile breaking through. they all nodded, repeating their names for you to remember. no one asked why you were here. no one said it aloud, not yet. not now.

as the hours passed into night, gihun told you to be careful during guard duty, that people were desperate, dangerous even. “i’ll start,” he said. jungbae promised to join him. sleep didn’t reach you, as it had for months. junho’s voice echoed in your mind, always soft and careful:

“y/n, please. listen to me, okay?” his voice cracked with something raw, something fragile. when gihun reached for you to take his guard shift, you nodded, standing only to sit a little farther from your bed. inho was awake beside you, silent and steady, saying little. you didn’t speak either. but you noticed him glancing your way, lips twitching like he wanted to ask something.

you beat him to it. “why are you here?” your voice gentle, curious, no threat. you didn’t look at him, but you could feel his eyes on you. he cleared his throat, hesitant. “my wife… she’s sick,” he said quietly, voice cracking just a bit. “and pregnant. i need more money for her treatment.” you just nodded. sorry felt too easy.

“you’re pregnant, right?” he asked, eyes steady on you. you met his gaze. “how do you know that?” your walls felt like they were crumbling. “the way you stand. my wife used to stand like that in the beginning.”

you swallowed hard. “you’re alone?” you nodded again. “the dad doesn’t know. we aren’t together anymore.” he didn’t press, just waited. “i didn’t choose it. he said he wasn’t there anymore. he saw my pain. he was right, but still… i think i preferred when he came late at night, wrapped his arms around me, rather than nothing.” inho nodded, not because he didn’t care, but because that’s what you needed. someone to listen. and you talked, because you hadn’t said any of this out loud for months.

after a while, you exhaled sharply. “fuck, i might die here,” your voice trembled, scared. you didn’t notice a tear slip from your eye until it landed cold on your thigh. “no one knows he’s the dad, you know,” you chuckled, unsure why. “you wanna tell?” inho asked. “you wanna know? what’s the point if i die here anyway?” your voice cracked. silence. heavy silence. he didn’t reach for you or speak. you thought he might’ve stopped breathing, like his breath was caught in his throat. you bit your lip. “sorry,” you finally whispered. “i’m just afraid.”

“it’s normal.” he said softly. you nodded, wiping away the tears. “junho.”

“what?” his voice came too quickly.

“junho. hwang junho. that’s his name.” inho didn’t say anything at first. maybe he was talking to himself. your back was to him, but you could feel the change. the way his walls cracked open. you stayed quiet.

the air between you grew heavy—too much air, or maybe not enough. inho felt like he couldn’t breathe, like his lungs wouldn’t fill. even if he wanted to speak, the words were trapped. gihun wasn’t sleeping. he never really was. he heard everything, but said nothing. as if this moment was just between you two.

the air shifted. just like that. you didn’t notice yet. maybe you never would. when the other games began, gihun stayed close, inho was watching silently from behind you, keeping you safe in his sight. they both made sure you ate. “want some?” gihun asked once. inho watched over you in small, careful ways during the night. never obvious, never too close—just glances, making sure you slept.

when mingle came, he grabbed your wrist—not gently. no, because he needed you to survive this. at least this. for him—not for himself, but for junho. because he knew his little brother still cared. junho never stopped caring about inho. when “two” was announced, inho didn’t grab you. he couldn’t. gihun did. when you finally reached the room, you exhaled, needing breath, scared to the core. “you okay?” gihun asked, checking.

you nodded, tears slipping down your cheeks. he didn’t wipe them away. because sometimes you just need to feel them. he crouched down in front of you, smiling softly. “you both gonna be okay. okay?” he lied, because the truth was, he didn’t know. you never asked how he knew you were pregnant. you didn’t have to. it didn’t matter.

stepping out, your eyes searched for someone—anyone—you didn’t know. from afar, inho’s eyes found you again. you didn’t see how his shoulders dropped slightly, feeling lighter. when he reached for you, he didn’t hug you. he just asked quietly,

“are you okay?” the question felt almost dumb. you didn’t answer, but your eyes said everything.

the next thing you knew—after half your group left for the rebellion—was the fresh city air, buzzing sounds in your ears as someone carefully unfolded your tied wrists. “oh dear, are you okay?” an old woman asked, helping undo your binds. you looked around, confused. so lost.

you still had no money. no one. nothing. but you were alive. not safe. just alive—for now.

masterlist

requests are open!

tag list (open also): @namgyucat @namsgyu @threerxcha

[catchastarorten]

—License and registration, please.

Pairing: Hwang Jun-ho x wife!fem!reader

Summary: Did you pass the speed limit? No. Did Jun-ho pull you over anyways to steal a few moments (and kisses) with you? Yes.

Content: fluff, shared kisses, a girl flirting with him but Jun-ho being very loyal, English isn’t my first language, mistakes should be present, not proofread, sorry!

Word count: ~ 1.1k

The air was cool that afternoon, sunlight glinting off the windshields of passing cars. Traffic duty wasn’t exactly glamorous, but it was steady, and after everything Jun-ho had endured chasing shadows and secrets, it wasn’t so bad. He didn’t mind the transfer. It gave him time to breathe. To be with you.

A motorcycle driving into sight caught his eyes, bringing him out of his thoughts. A man carrying a girl on the back, helmet-less.

Jun-ho approached the two as the motorcycle came to a stop, his partner—a younger, less experienced officer trailed after him.

“You’re not wearing a helmet. Your license, please.” he took out a small tablet as the man cursed, eyes full of impatience and annoyance.

“Isn’t this entrapment? Hiding to catch people is shady. You want to squeeze money out of broke citizens?” the man scoffed.

“Your license, please.” Jun-ho ignored him and extended a hand out, waiting.

The man handed over his license begrudgingly as the girl sitting behind him on the motorcycle hopped down, giving the man a reassuring pat as if saying, “I’ve got this,” before coming closer to Jun-ho.

“Look, can’t you just let us go? I’m wearing one.” she gestured to her own helmet, giving it a steady pat.

“No, ma’am.”

The girl frowned, but took a second look at him and her eyes sparkled, peering at him. “Hey, you’re really handsome!” her voice tuned into a higher pitch at her excitement, as if she found some treasure.

“I could charge you with obstruction.” Jun-ho said dryly, checking the information on the small tablet in his hand.

“You’re a tough cookie,” the girl smiled wider, taking out her phone. She snapped a few pictures, striking different poses as Jun-ho tried to avoid the camera, his head ducked low as he scanned over the information shown on the tablet. The man on the motorcycle narrowed his eyes at the sight.

As the ticket printed out from a machine strapped to Jun-ho’s vest, the girl patted his shoulder. “Come on, get in here!” she leaned closer, but he stepped away to maintain a good distance, before walking over to the man.

Jun-ho handed the ticket to the guy. “The fine for not wearing a helmet is 20,000 won. Pay it on time.”

The man snatched the ticket away as the girl continued fawning.

“What’s your number? Are you single?” she squealed.

Jun-ho blinked, momentarily taken aback, before he smirked softly and raised his hand, the band on his finger glinting in the sunlight. “Happily married,” he said simply, his voice warm.

The girl’s excitement evaporated, replaced by a pout. “Seriously? Who’s the lucky woman?”

Jun-ho didn’t answer, instead he walked back to the squad car.

The man drove off on his motorcycle, a bitterness clinging onto him. The girl was startled and chased after the guy, shouting and exclaiming and throwing her helmet at him but missing while trying to catch up, her loud curses disappearing into the distance along with the motorcycle.

Jun-ho watched the scene unfold with an amused smile, shaking his head before getting back into the squad car. His rookie partner shot him a bewildered look. “Does that happen to you a lot?”

“More than you’d think. Just ignore them,” Jun-ho replied, settling back into his seat, looking down at the band on his ring finger as his eyes softened, already missing you.

They were driving back toward their usual patrol route when Jun-ho caught sight of a familiar car in the distance. It was yours, the unmistakable silhouette of the vehicle and the way it handled the road bringing an instant smile to his face.

“Pulling over for a second,” he told his rookie partner.

“What? Why?”

Without explanation, Jun-ho sped up slightly, falling into step behind your car before flicking on the lights. You weren’t speeding—you rarely did—but you pulled your car to the side of the road obediently anyway, your indicator blinking calmly, putting the car in park.

Jun-ho stepped out of the patrol car, smoothing his uniform. His partner stayed inside, fiddling with the radio.

He walked up to your window, tapping lightly on the glass, then gestured for you to roll it down. When you turned to look at him, he saw the way your eyes flickered in recognition and affectionate annoyance. He could already feel his heart melting.

You raised an eyebrow, playing along as you pressed the button and lowered the window.

“Officer,” you said, your voice laced with playful suspicion. “What’s the problem?”

Jun-ho leaned against the frame, speaking in a serious way, though the corners of his mouth twitched. “License and registration, please.”

You scoffed. “I wasn’t speeding. You know I wasn’t speeding.”

“You were driving suspiciously… within the speed limit,” he replied, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “Very suspicious.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress a smile. “Am I really getting a ticket for obeying the law?”

“Yes,” he said, dipping his head closer, his voice dropping to a soft murmur. “But you can pay in kisses.”

Before you could respond, he leaned in through the open window, his lips brushing yours in a tender, stolen kiss. It was soft, warm, and lingering—the kind of kiss that reminded you just how much he adored you. When he pulled back, he waited for just a moment before stealing another kiss. And then another.

“Jun-ho,” you mumbled, your voice half-scolding but mostly filled with affection.

“One more,” he murmured, his hand resting lightly on the edge of the window.

You gave in, letting him kiss you again.

“That’ll cover it,” he said, his voice tinged with amusement as he pulled back, his eyes lingering on yours.

Just as he straightened, the passenger door of the squad car opened, and his rookie partner stepped out, looking thoroughly confused. “Uh… everything okay?”

Jun-ho let out a sigh, his expression shifting back to something more professional, though you could still see the softness in his eyes when he glanced at you. “Everything’s fine,” he said. “I’ll be there in a minute, go wait in the car.”

The officer hesitated but nodded, retreating back to the patrol car, leaving the two of you alone again.

“Guess that’s my cue,” Jun-ho said, his voice softening as he looked at you.

You smiled warmly. “I’ll see you at home.”

“I’ll be there,” he promised. “Sharp.”

With one last lingering look, Jun-ho stepped back, letting you drive off. He stood there for a moment, watching your car disappear down the road, his heart full.

As he returned to the squad car, his rookie partner gave him a questioning look, but Jun-ho didn’t offer an explanation. Some things were just for him to cherish.

[amorchai]

Can we get some hwang junho boyfriend head cannons? •`ヮ´• This man NEEDS more attention I swear

𝐇𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐉𝐔𝐍 𝐇𝐎 𝐀𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃.

pairing(s): hwang jun ho x reader

words: 346

warnings/tags: established relationship, he's so boyfriend it hurts, if you squint you can see how obsessed i am with his back.

➵ mans is protective, let’s get that over with.

➵ not in an overbearing way. he just needs to make sure you’re safe.

➵ coming to pick you and friends up if you’re out late.

➵ if you’re out together and it’s late and you’re tired he’ll bend down so casually so you can climb on his back and get carried.

➵ he’s quiet but attentive, whenever you’re talking he has a little smile on his face, listening to every word you have to say but also getting distracted over the way your eyes shine or the dimples in your cheeks.

➵ he works late a lot at the station but will drop by yours for the night with a tired smile and tons of kisses pressed against your skin.

➵ junho gets nightmares so sometimes you awake to him abruptly sitting up and heavy breathing and he would jump from the gentle touch to his shoulder.

➵ it takes him time but you’re able to calm him down until he’s practically back to sleep, this time on top of you with his head tucked into your neck.

➵ the early morning type, he’s likely to go early hour jogs and have breakfast ready before you’ve gotten out of bed. sleepy eyes as you trudge in pyjamas to where he stands freshly showered and dressed.

➵ whenever you’re out and a guy tries to chat you up, they will back off from junho’s look alone. eyes intense and watching, expression giving nothing away.

➵ isn’t afraid of pda, will hold your hand at any given moment available and also occasionally kisses it. will also kiss your cheek and temple when leaving you.

➵ a+ cuddler award goes to him, his broad back and shoulders a perfect mattress when you cuddle into his chest. his hands are always holding something, the back of your head with soft strokes with his thumb, tracing your arms or comfortably on your ass.

➵ this man will worship the ground you walk on and be irretrievably devoted to being the best boyfriend he can to you. whenever you’re around him, you know you’re safe.

amorchai masterlist . taglist

amorchai © ─ all rights reserved. no reposting/translating/copying will be tolerated.

[labelneo]

i’m a good girl, officer.

summary: junho hadn’t been the same since his disappearance. he wanted to make it up to you.

pairing: husband!junho x detective!reader

length: 5k words

warnings: 18+, dni w/ this fic if you are a minor!!, female reader, pet names, junho praising reader, dirty talk, fingering, oral (f receiving), p in v, cream pie, marriage problems resolved through make up sex, passionate sex, junho bending you over his office desk, unprotected sex

AUTHOR’S NOTE: request are open! also, lmk if you would like to be on my squid game fics tag list!

Sitting in your office across from Junho’s, you had spent the past few hours at the station looking through active cases you were working on. Your office was only being filled by the sound of you flipping pages, and your attention was set on the work in front of you until you heard footsteps coming into the hall. You look up from your desk to see your husband as he walks straight past your door and into his office, slamming his door shut in the process. 

Not even a good morning, you think to yourself. Rude. 

But, not surprising. You would be wrong if you didn’t admit that your husband’s recent behavior had been, well, frustrating. You had already almost lost your mind the day you received a call from your shared boss about some fisherman having found his body in the middle of the ocean with a gunshot wound in his shoulder, and he wasn’t making the situation you both were in now any easier. 

The weeks following his disappearance had been more than confusing. He swore he couldn’t remember what had happened to him, but you knew better than that. After all, you both worked the same profession that required skills such as reading people. Also, he was your husband for goodness sake. You knew his quirks, and you especially knew when he was lying. You’d watch how he would break out in a sweat in the middle of the night, how he would keep a map stashed away at his desk and at your shared apartment with different islands having been circled, hiding it to make sure you never saw it, or how he seemed more vigilante when the two of you traveled on the subway. He swore nothing was wrong, but you knew better. 

So, one day, after work, you had had enough of Junho and his behavior. You were tired of the secrets and the sneaking out in the middle of the night when he thought you were asleep. Dinner between the two of you had been quiet that evening, and you had had enough at that point. Slamming your dishes down into the sink, you cursed at Junho, asking him what was going on with him. He was hesitant, but he knew he couldn’t keep hiding the truth from you any longer. He knew you were good at your job, so he knew he needed your help as well. He told you about the island, the games, and about a man named Gi-hun. You were shocked to say the least, but you knew he was telling the truth. You believed him, and you made sure to let him know you would help him to take down the games. 

Yet, him telling you the truth didn’t smooth out the rough spot your marriage was in. Junho had become so focused on bringing the games down, he also had lost focus on the intimacy between the two of you. He didn’t ever seem up for anything anymore, and although you knew how occupied he kept himself because how important taking down the games was to him, you missed him more than you let on. You missed his attention; you missed his touch. 

So, you hated how easy it seemed for him to ignore you at home and, now, also at work. If he didn’t want to have sex with you at home because he was “too tired” to do anything due to how busy he was, fine. It hurt your feelings, but you knew how determined he was. But, he didn’t have to ignore you at work either. You were still his co-worker.

I’m also your wife, you asshole. 

You let out a huff, not sure what to do. This behavior had already been going on for a while, so you try your best to let it go. 

When lunch hour came around, you got up from your desk and grabbed your coat from the back of your chair. If Junho wasn’t going to remember to put in effort into the relationship because of how busy he was, you decided it would be best for you to remind him that he was still married. There was a new spot you wanted to try, and you were hoping the two of you could spend the afternoon having lunch together. 

However, your intentions were halted when you saw Junho walk out of his office, not even stopping to glance in the direction of yours. You quickly put on your coat, rushing out your office door before he disappears to wherever he has to go now. 

“Junho!” 

Turning when he heard you calling out for him, Junho stopped walking out the building. “Hey, I have to go. Can we talk later? I’m meeting up with Gi-hun for lunch.”

You blink slowly in amusement at your husband. A part of you wanted to blow up on him at that moment, but you knew better than to do that at work, especially when the front desk workers were now staring at the both of you. So, you don’t say anything. And, Junho, being too busy in that moment with regards to what he and Gi-hun were meeting up to discuss, walked out the door when you didn’t say anything to stop him from walking out the building. 

Another two hours go by before you see your husband come back from his meeting. It’s the same routine, walking past your office, not saying anything to you, walking straight into his office, and closing the door behind him. 

Again, a part of you is telling you to let it go, but you have had enough at this point. Getting up from your chair, you make your way to his office, not bothering to knock. Junho felt himself get upset for a second thinking someone had walked into his office without knocking and unannounced, until he realized it had been you. 

“Y/N,” Junho says, looking back down at the map on his desk, “if it isn’t important, I’m busy right now. Can we talk when we get home?”

You look down at the same map that had been getting more attention than you had been getting for the past few months. You shake your head and scoff at your husband, who doesn’t look up even when you're standing right in front of him. 

“Junho,” you start to say, and Junho can hear the tone in your voice, “I’m your wife, you remember that right?”

Junho, confused by the question, looks up at you as he frowns. He knew you were his wife, he went home to you every day.

“Of course I know that. What are you getting at?” 

You tip your head to the side slightly, almost as if you were trying to get your thoughts across to him without saying anything directly. “You didn’t say good morning to me this morning.”

Junho huffs in response, not amused with what you had said. “I’m sorry, I had a lot to do once I got here.” He didn’t understand what was so important about it. 

“You didn't say good morning to me at home either.”

“Y/N, I’m sorry. I have a lot of work to do, okay? Whatever this is, we can talk about it at home.”

“That’s the thing, Junho,” you respond, bringing your hands out in front of you, “You have a lot of work today. You also had a lot of work yesterday, and the day before, and you’ll have a lot of work tomorrow too. We won’t talk about it when you get home because this is the way it’s been for months now!”

Junho looks up at you, rubbing his forehead due to now feeling bothered himself. “Do you think this is an appropriate conversation to be having at work?”

“Do you think the way you've been treating me has been an appropriate way to treat your wife?”

Junho doesn't say anything. He’s not sure what to say, and you don’t feel like talking to the wall he has become. You turn on your heel and make your way out his office, knowing that his silence was his answer to what you had just said. 

“Whatever, Junho. When you decide to act like my husband again, let me know.” 

You went home at your usual time that day, and that night, Junho went home later than you had. It was nothing new to either of you, but Junho felt especially guilty having done that the same day as the argument you both had had at the station. He had gone home to find you already asleep in your shared bedroom, analyzing your body while you laid peacefully under the sheets.

He missed you, just as much as you missed him. He knew things hadn’t been the same between the two of you, but he hadn’t realized how affected you had become because of it. You were right, he hadn’t been giving the attention you deserved. 

You had been there for him those days he laid in the hospital after he had been found, and you didn’t call him crazy like his boss had when he told you about the games. You had stuck with him through all the thick and thin he had been going through, and he hadn’t repaid you for how patient you had been with him.  

The next day at work, you wake up and make your way to the station. You had woken up to an empty bed that morning, and you’d be lying if you didn’t admit that it stung you more than usual. After the talk you had with Junho the previous day, you thought something would have changed, but you had ended up being wrong. 

You were surprised to get to the office and see that Junho was already in his office, his door unusually open. You ignore it, not wanting to have another confrontation. 

Making your way to your office and sitting in your chair, everything was happening as it usually does, until you heard a knock at your door. Looking up, you see your husband standing there. It surprises you, given that he seemed to never give you much attention at work anymore. 

“Would you,” he says, leaning against the door frame, “want to get lunch with me, later?”

Your eyes widen in surprise. You couldn’t remember the last time he had asked you to spend time together. Nodding in agreement, a small smile falls on your face. Junho smiles back in response, telling you to go to his office during lunch hour once you were ready to go. 

Once it does, you make your way to your husband’s office, a small spring in your step, you think this is finally the chance to spend some time with your husband. 

That is until you go inside to see that he wasn’t in office anymore. You think he may have just gone to the restroom or taken a phone call outside. You decide to sit in his chair and wait for him to come back. There’s no way he would just bail on you. 

Right?

As you wait, 5 minutes turns into 10, and then 20, and then 30, and suddenly, an hour has already gone by. You had kept yourself busy reading through his case files and looking at that stupid map a dozen times before you got up from his seat.

Screw him.

You don’t know why you even had your hopes up. Junho had, yet again, ignored you completely after having gotten your hopes up. Upset, you get up from his chair and make your way out of his office and into yours, before Junho comes rushing in. He sees the look you have on your face, and he knows you're pissed. 

“Hey, look, I’m sor-”

“No,” you say, putting your hand up to stop him, “I really don't want to hear it.” 

You attempt to make your way out of his office before Junho slams his door shut and stands in front of it. 

“I’m sorry! Okay? I got a call from Gi-hun about a lead in the case, and it was urgent, so I left in a hurry.” 

You shake your head. “I really don’t care, Junho. One afternoon! You couldn’t even make time to spend one afternoon getting lunch with me. It’s like you don’t even care anymore.” 

Junho shakes his head back at you. “That’s not true, and you know that.”

“Do I?” You respond back. “It’s like you don't even remember that we’re married. You never pay me any attention anymore.” 

You continue to question him, sensing all your feelings crash down all at once. “You don’t say good morning to me in the morning anymore, you don’t say bye before you leave to where ever it is you go on the weekend, you don’t give me any updates on the case, and you ignore me at home and at work. We don’t spend any time together anymore because you're always too busy. I mean Junho…do you not love me anymore?”

Junho freezes at the last part of your statement. Of course he loves you. He knew he hadn't been the best husband lately, but how could you possibly think that?

You sigh in frustration. You've already said too much, you think, might as well keep going. “You don’t want to do anything with me anymore, and…you don’t even want to sleep with me anymore. So, I don’t know what to think.” 

Junho’s eyes soften as he hears you talk, shifting around on his feet. He feels guilty. He never intended for you to ever feel unwanted, and he, especially, never intended for you to feel unloved. 

“I’m sorry, baby.”

You lock eyes with Junho. Baby. You couldn't remember the last time he had called you something lovingly. 

“I never wanted you to feel that way.” Junho stepped towards you to get rid of the space between the two of you, bringing you into an embrace. You’re still upset, and you know you shouldn't, but you melt into his touch. You knew you needed to be stronger, but you were desperate for any kind of attention from him at this point. 

Junho leans back to look at your face. He sees your pout, and he leans down to peck your lips. 

Junho’s testing the waters, and when you don’t retaliate he kisses you again and again. He wants to make up the way he’s been treating you. Junho goes in for another kiss, and this time, he picks you up, guiding your legs to wrap around his waist. You let out a squeal at his action before he finds your lips again. You know you should probably try to talk things out more, but you're loving this new found attention. Once he has you wrapped around him. Junho doesn’t stop kissing you even when he sits you down on his desk, and you don't mind. He has his hand on the back of your neck, having a constant pull on you to keep you close to his lips. His other hand is placed on your thigh and you feel his touch shooting up your body. 

You can’t help but sneak your hands under his shirt, feeling him up. You knew your husband was fit, but you didn't mind the reminder of what he hide under his shirt as you felt his stomach and abs. Junho doesn't mind either, your touch sending chills down his body. He was sensitive to your touch, especially since he hadn’t felt you touch in a while. 

And, god, did he miss it. It was his own fault, he knew that. He never meant to neglect you in any way, he had just been so busy trying to solve his own dilemmas that he had forgotten to balance out his attention on both you and his problems. 

Junho kisses you down your neck, and you throw your head back at the sensation. His soft lips travel all the way down to your collar bone thanks to your button up. His hands are on your thighs, gripping them hard as he concentrates on the soft moans coming from your mouth. He can feel the bulge growing in his pants, and he lets out a moan of his own when he feels you waste no time in starting to grind yourself against it. 

Taking a step back, he listens as you whine at the distance he’s just created. You look down at him up and down, seeing the way his cock is starting to become more pronounced under his pants. You reach out for him, needing him close to you before he grabs your hands and puts them on your side. Shaking his head slightly, he takes a step back to you before reaching down to the buttons of your pants, slowly unbuttoning them as he doesn't break eye contact with you. 

“Let me make it up to you, baby.” 

You don’t say anything as he finishes unbuttoning your pants. He pulls your pants completely off, discarding them onto the floor before connecting his lips with yours again. Up to this point, his kisses had been gentle, almost like an apology. This time, his kiss is desperate, needy. His hands are back at your thighs, gripping them. He had forgotten how soft you were. He had missed this feeling just as much as you had, and you're driving him crazy as your hands touch him all over. 

Junho pulls away, and just as you were about to complain again, you watch him lower himself to kneel down infront of you. He takes his time to press kisses from your ankle and make his way up, slowly and steadily. He kisses up your exposed inner thighs, not breaking eye contact with you once.  Your legs start to shake, excited at the idea of Junho finally giving you the attention you've been craving for months now. He nips at your inner thighs, loving the way you twitch at the feeling. He can see the dampness becoming more and more prominent on your undies, causing him to smirk. 

“I want to make you feel good, gorgeous.”

You don’t say anything. All you feel is your pussy pulsing more and more as Junho gets closer and closer to your heat. He’s barely started, and he’s already driving you crazy. 

Junho takes wet kisses the rest of the way up your thighs before licking your clothed pussy. You shiver at the sensation, letting out a moan. Your sounds only fuel his need to please you. He takes long licks at your inner thigh, wanting to make you more impatient for his attention. Once he’s satisfied with his work, having left small bruises to your soft, plush thighs, he pulls your panties to the side, groaning when he sees how wet you are. 

“Look at you, already so wet for me.”

Junho leans in, placing his tongue on your wetness and taking a lick. You reach out to grab him, running your hand through his hair before settling and gripping at his hair, feeling yourself getting lost in the feeling. He could feel his dick leaking and twitching in his pants, loving the feeling of you grabbing at him and enjoying how quickly he could undo you in minutes. He doesn’t take a second to slow down, eating you out in the ways he knew you liked. Moving his tongue up and down, he takes in your taste while moaning against your cunt, the vibrations of his voice causing your pussy to clench around nothing. You were in desperate need for him to fill you up, but his tongue was doing wonders against you. Swirling his tongue around, he can feel you getting sensitive, feeling how you instinctively start to pull away from him. Realizing, he grabs your waist with his hands and pulls your body closer to his face. 

Continuing to swirl his tongue around, he takes a long, wet lick up your slit before he focuses his attention on your clit. Sucking on it, he feels like he's about to cum just looking at you as your eyes roll back, your back arches on his desk, and how your breasts pop out more out your chest. He hadn’t even realized you had unbuttoned your shirt and taken out your breasts. 

Moaning at the site, he lets his mouth come off you with a loud, wet pop. Your panting only fueled him to keep making you feel good with his attention. Leveling himself, he takes a long lick from your lower belly all the up your chest before he takes one of your nipples into his mouth while looking up at you, sucking on it like he was hungry to take as much of you in as he could. The view of him under your eye sight, him giving all his attention with his eyes looking up at you through his lashes with praise and admiration, you feel yourself starting to remember how good your husband had become in pleasing you during your time together. Before you can even catch your breath, Junho takes one of his hands to your breast, massages it with his palm. His other hand makes its way down to your now dripping pussy, barely hovering over it before you start grinding yourself against his fingers. 

He was intoxicated with your noises of pleasure and the taste of you. The sight of you coming undone in front of him on his desk, your legs spread open and your pussy dripping for him made him think about all the other dirty things he wanted to do to you. Taking his lips off your now raw and exposed nipple, he easily thrusted his fingers into you from how wet you were. Your eyes are closed, so you can’t see the way Junho is looking at you, but his stare is all set on your now. He checks you out, he couldn’t believe he had let you, his wife, go this long without this kind of attention. You were, to him, the most gorgeous woman he had ever seen, and now you were here, on his desk, moaning his name. Leaning forward he kisses your jaw and makes his way to your ear, taking in how your mouth is opened due to all the sensations you were feeling. 

“Look at you, sitting here so pretty for me. Are you gonna be a good girl for me?”

You hum in response, only being able to concentrate on his fingers and how he curled his fingers inside of you. He chuckles, showing off the smile that drove you crazy. By now, you’re a mess, and Junho doesnt think he can wait any longer. You’re sitting on his desk, legs spread out and your chest completely exposed. Before you can even think about something to say, Junho removes his fingers instead of you, much to your disappointment. You watch as he brings his fingers up to his mouth, sucking on them. 

You had forgotten how crazy Junho could make you. 

By now, your pussy is throbbing, and you feel the need for Junho to be inside you. Junho can’t ignore the tightness in his pants anymore, and he quickly moves to remove his shirt from off his body. You watch as his lower stomach is exposed, to his chest, until he no longer has his shirt on anymore. His abs are as defined as always, but you still reach out to feel him up all the way up to his chest. Junho is no longer in the mood for teasing or simple touches, he needed to feel himself inside of you. 

Finally reaching for his pants, you look down to see how he takes off his pants and boxers in a swift motion down to his ankles, his dick springing free. Junho was your husband, so obviously you had slept with him before. But after going this long without sex, you stare in awe at his dick, red and leaky. You knew he was big, but you didn’t remember him being that big. 

“This is what you do to me, baby.” Junho takes his own hand down to his own member, stroking it while you watch him. Junho grabs your chin, guiding you to look at him. There’s a gloss in your eyes, and he knows he has you right where he wants you to be, needy for him. 

“Are you going to be a good for me, mh? Are you gonna let me make you feel good?”

A whiny mhm comes out your mouth. You'd be whatever he wanted you to be. A good girl comes out his lips before he’s flipping you over on his desk, grabbing your waist and pulling your ass up to give him access to stick his cock inside of you. You whine softly, pushing your ass back into him, feeling desperate for him to fill you up. The hardness of his cock against you is making you excited, and Junho can’t help but take in the sight of you in front of him. The plumpness of your ass against his cock only makes him feel more and more turned on. His head is now red and needy for you. Junho slaps his cock against your ass before he guides it into your folds, letting your dripping pussy get all over him. He grips your ass at the feeling before Junho thrusts himself into you, and he can’t stop himself from praising you. 

A long drawn out fuck comes out his lips at the same time you let a sensual sound come out your lips. You knew Junho didn’t like you being quiet. You knew he wanted to hear how good he was making you feel.  

Junho, on the other hand, let out a sound of pleasure at the sound feeling of you around him. He hadn’t been inside you for a while now, and he can’t believe how he could've gone this long without feeling your pussy around him. 

“Fuck baby, you feel so fucking good.”

You’re too concentrated on the feeling of Junho finally stretching you out that you almost don’t hear him. He knows you're out of it too, seeing how you don’t react to his praise. Leaning forward, he grabs your chin, turning your head to kiss you before he stops milli inches from your lips. You whine, leaning forward to kiss him before he pulls back. 

“My pretty girl, you like that? How I make you feel?” 

You let out a breathy yes, and suddenly, you feel yourself holding back screams. Junho, being your husband, knows all the squishy spots inside of you that make you go crazy, and he was making sure he filled you up exactly the way he knew you liked, the way he knew would make you cum on his dick. His office is filled with the slaps of his balls hitting your ass, and Junho now has his hands on your waist, pulling you in harder and harder back to his cock. He watches the way your ass bounces on him. The way his hands fit perfectly into the curves of your body, the way he fits inside your pussy, the way your moaning his name makes him swear to himself that you must have been made exactly for him. 

He’s stretching you out perfectly, making sure he fills you up as much as he can. You feel so good, so fucked out. You had missed this feeling so much. 

You bent over his desk, so exposed, and with your shared boss only a few doors down, you feel so dirty knowing how you loved to do it with Junho in scandalous places. You remember back to the days the two of you had been cops together, and how the both of you patrolling the same nights would end in you riding Junho in the driver seat. You couldn’t help yourself, you loved a man in uniform. 

You knew Junho wouldn’t let himself cum until you did, so you let yourself get lost in the pleasure he was giving you and the sound of his grunts until you start feeling that tightness in your womb. Junho sees how you instinctively start rocking yourself more against his cock, and he knows you're close to finishing.  

“That’s it, gorgeous. Come on my cock, baby.” 

The stretching in your pussy, the name calling, the sounds of Junho moaning your name was the perfect combination, enough to send you into your release. Junho watches as your grip at the edge of his desk. You let out a moan, calling out for him as he feels your pussy clench around him and your wetness increases. He feels himself slipping in and out of you faster, and he feels his ego rise knowing that he had made you finish as strongly as you did.  

You feel Junho’s stroke starting to get sloppy, and you feel his grip starting to become tighter around your waist. He slaps your ass, and your ass perks up at the feeling. Reaching out for him while he stood behind you, you run your hand against his chest, and Junho doesn’t think he can take your touch and the feeling of him ramming himself into you at the same time. 

“Come for me, handsome. I’ve been a good girl. I want to feel you come inside of me.”

Junho can’t stop himself from being affected by your words, and the warmth you suddenly feel inside of you lets you know he was filling you up with his cum. You groan at the feeling, loving how his seed fills you up. 

Junho pants from his spot behind you, and you lay yourself down on his desk, trying to compose yourself as well. You’re so sensitive, but you feel so much euphoria all over your body. Junho, seeing as you're not moving, bends down and kisses you up your back, knowing how sensitive you are to the feeling. Your back aches again at the feeling.  

“Fuck, baby. Mhm. You make me feel so good.”

Junho chuckles, leaning forward a bit more to kiss your cheek. 

“I promise to always make sure to take care of my girl.”

WANT TO READ MORE? Click Here!

TAGLIST (pls let me know if you don’t want to be tagged in smut)!! : @vinaluvsu @ninglovr @okaycharr

[intellectualfallacy]

please write more of hwang jun ho !! 🙏🙏

Author's Note: He was the first I wanted to write for to get my writing warmed up again, so can't help but oblige to this request! ☺️ I really hope you enjoy!

Summary: After you come back from a late night work outing, (Y/N) and Junho seem to have the same thought in mind.

Rating: M (18+)

Warning(s): Smut, Dirty Talk, Oral (F & M Receiving), No Protection

MDI

The wind blew harsh as I rushed inside to the apartment’s lobby to escape the night’s cold weather, giving a shudder as I was met with a slightly less cold environment. I would have been home hours ago but a work dinner kept me away, making me regret wearing a dress if i had known I would be staying for so long. The alcohol helped keep me a bit warm but nothing like being at home with Junho. He was all I could think about during the outing; flashes of his sweet smile, laughter, his body cuddling and keeping me warm.. or how good he looked over me.. 

Maybe it was the one beer thinking for me. Or I really just needed him. Walking up the stairs, I reach our apartment door, clumsily pulling out my keys and opening the door silently. Instead of being met with a dark living room, the corner lamp and television lit the room, seeing Junho almost staring blankly at the screen as if to not fall asleep. “You’re not in bed?” I ask as i closed the door, causing him to jolt. “There you are.” He replies, huffing lightly as he stood up, the blanket on him slipping off as he yawned, wearing a white tee shirt and grey shorts. “You weren’t answering your phone but since the bar isn’t that far, I assumed you were just busy.” He explained as I took off my coat and heels, walking towards me. “How did it go?” He moved the hair out of my face, cupping my face as he placed a gentle kiss on my lips. I moaned and smiled as he moved away, seeing his warm smile and groggy eyes. “It went good. Nothing special.” I close the gap between us as I wrap my arms around his neck, his hands moving to my hips. “I was just thinking about you, a lot.” I reply, him giving a curious hum. “What did I do to earn the privilege?” He places his forehead against mines, feeling his hands wander to the small of my back, moving me closer to him. “There’s too many to count.” I reply with a small laugh, making him smile proudly. “Should I give you a reason then?” He asks, moving his head back and a hand back up to my cheek, giving a soft rub. “Hmm.. How are you going to do that?” I teased, lightly running my fingers along his neck. Giving a small smirk, he grabs my legs and pulls me up, making me let out a gasp as I wrapped my legs around his waist. “Don’t worry, I’ll show you.”

My back hits the mattress as Junho’s soft lips crash against mines, settling between my legs as I wrap one around him, the other bent on his side. His hands traveled my sides as he parted my lips, both of us moaning into our mouths and moving my hands along his back, dragging his shirt up more and more. I struggled not to grind up to him as his hand reached for my thigh, squeezing it and moving his hand higher, his rough fingertips gliding and raising my dress higher. “You’re so soft.” He moans out as he moves his head to my neck, giving light kisses and small licks as I moaned softly. I could feel him move the bottom of my dress up, lightly touching the inside of my thigh before feeling his covered bulge begin to grind down onto me slowly. “Junho.” I whimpered as he sucked on my neck, causing a sting before licking it as I grinded up to him, a hand pushing my hips back down. “You have to be patient, baby.” He said into my ear before giving it a little bite, making me grasp onto his shirt as he kept up the slow pace. “But I want more.” I whimpered, my nails dragging lightly against his back, hearing him give a low moan. Instead of answering, he moved up and off of me, moving off of the bed and standing. “Come take my clothes off if you need it that bad.” He gave an intense stare as I moved to him, keeping my eyes on him as his hand reaches down to grasp his growing cock. I simply nod and smile, standing and removing his shirt, it falling on the ground as my fingertips glide along his tight abs. My hand moves to his shorts, letting them fall on the floor as his black boxer briefs are revealed. I keep my eyes on him as I let my fingers trail along his bulge before gripping it lightly, smiling up at him as he sucks in a breath. He moves a hand to hold the back of my neck, keeping me there. “Are you my dirty girl?” He asks. I nod, feeling his fingers dig slightly. “Say it.” He growled, making me whimper with excitement. “I’m your dirty girl.” I say, earning an approving moan. 

“Then get on your knees.” He lets go of my neck, stepping back to give me space to be in front of him. Nodding, I kneel down in front of him, reaching back and letting my dress pool around me. Reaching up, my hand grips his bulge, giving light strokes as I look up at him. He gives a small smile before saying, “Come on, (Y/N), don’t be mean.” I move closer and place a kiss on his covered cock, keeping my eyes on him. “I thought we had to be patient.” I tease, getting him to growl. “I take that back.” He replies, his eyes going along my body. “Take that bra off, too.” I nod, keeping my eyes on him as i reach back and unlatch my bra, letting it fall with the dress. I lick my lips as my hands pull and let go of the black fabric, watching his cock spring out. He lets out a relieved moan as my hand wraps around his base, kissing his tip before taking out my tongue, letting his tip lay on it for a second before licking him. My other hand comes up to grab his thigh as I let my mouth fully wrap around him, my eyes shutting as I adjust to him. A low groan escapes him as his cock hits the back of my throat, both hands grabbing my head and bobbing me, making me gag and move back, spit dribbling down my chin. “Fuck.” He groaned as I smiled up at him, both hands on his thighs as I take him in again, keeping my eyes on him as I bury his cock in my throat again. I gag a bit around him but keep bobbing my mouth, my eyes beginning to water as I did my best to keep them open. His eyebrows crease and his mouth stays open as he stares, groans, moans and curses escaping them as my hands grip onto his thighs. A hand travels to his balls, massaging them lightly as my eyes closed again, keeping up my movements until I feel him move me off of him. 

I let out a small gasp as I look up at him, seeing him huffing, letting out a load moan. “Get on your back.” He ordered, lifting myself up only for him to grab me halfway, lifting and tossing me onto the mattress, making me gasp. “I need you.” I whimper, catching my breath as his hands reached down, pulling my panties off as I raised my hips to help him. He let them drop before he lowered himself to my crotch, his lips and breath getting closer to my pussy, making me shiver. “You’re so wet.” He mutters almost to himself before his tongue peeks out of his mouth, his eyes glues to my wetness before he licks along my folds, his eyes closing as he tasted. “God, fuck.” I moaned out as I felt him drag his tongue again, opening his eyes and looking up at me. I whined as I felt his hands reach up, moving my legs up and over his shoulders before feeling his tongue move into my pussy, moving it back and forth before licking up to my clit, sucking on it lightly. Throwing my head back, I can’t help the moans that escape me before looking back to him, his hand reaching up and folding my tit as he enjoyed his motions. “I need your cock in me, Junho,” I whimpered, fighting to start grinding on his face. His eyes fluttered as he moved away from me, his chin lightly shining with wetness as he reached for a cabinet, pulling a small towel from it and quickly cleaning his chin. “Come here.” His hand captures my chin as I lean up to do so, our tongues intertwined with each others taste.

We stay like this for a moment, savoring each other before I move away, glancing at his cock, swearing I could see it twitch for a second. “Do you need my cock in you? Huh?” Looking up at him, he smirks as he brings he brings his cock to my pussy, rubbing his tip against my cock, making me moan out and nod frantically. “Yes, I do, please, Junho, I need you inside me.” I mumble against his lips as he spreads my legs and sinks into me, a yell and moan leaving me as his cock gently spreads me, his hand coming up to move the hair off my face as he slowly starts to thrust. I let out shaky moans as I adjust to him, a hand reaching to his hips and guide him on how I’m feeling. He keeps looking between my face and his cock thrusting into me, his beautiful face making the most sinful faces, groans and long moans making me get even closer. I grab the back of his head and he grabs the back of my knees, bringing them up to his shoulders as I wrapped my arms around his neck, feeling as his cock sinks even deeper than I thought. 

“Oh fuck-”

“Junho!”

My body shakes as he looks into my eyes, huffing and moaning so near my mouth as he enters me. The new angle makes me feel so full, whimpering as he brings his lips to my neck, hearing him almost whimper as my pussy tightened around him. He licks along my neck as he begins to thrust more, my hands coming up to rake my fingers along his back, feeling goosebumps rise as I reached his lower back. “You’re so fucking pretty.” Junho whines as he moves his head away, a hand grasping at my hip to bring it up as the other went to my tit, his fingers squeezing my nipple before groping it again. I can only whimper over and over again as his cock filled me, goosebumps rising on my skin as he kept fucking me so much, it was starting to become overwhelming.

“Huh-Jun- Fuck… Junho”

“Gonna come, baby?”

“Mmm-”

“Dirty girl. Come over this cock.”

I let out a choked whimper before moaning a mix of curses and Junho’s name, letting out a loud moan as my body shook with orgasm, whimpering as his cock kept moving. I look down at his cock moving in me before I glance to him, seeing his dark gaze watching my every movement, biting his lip before letting a whine escape. “I need you.” I whisper, bringing his head closer to me, our lips barely touching. “Cum in me.” I whimper, my sensitive pussy making me whine and tighten around him. Letting out a deep moan, he nods, keeping his eyes on me. “That’s what my honey needs. My cum.” He groans out, groaning loud before his movements fastened, making me curse at the sudden quickness of his thrusts. “All for me.” I whimper, smiling up at him. “Right, baby?” I whimpered, my hands squeezing his arms. His eyes squeeze shut as he keeps his hard thrust going, curses escaping him as I moan. “Mmm, that cock needs to cum in me~” I tease, pushing his head down onto my neck, moaning into his ear. “Oh-oh fuck-” He groans out before I feel his cock cum in me, moaning at the feeling. I grind up to him to help him through, moaning as he kept fucking me, his cock softening as he took it out, a soft moan from me as he slumped beside me.

He laid on his back before I moved and laid on his chest, letting out a soft moan as we settled in. He spread his legs, letting my legs go over his, my head laying on his chest as one of my hands laid on his chest, both of catching our breaths. After a moment, we both shuffled to move lower, laying side by side but our bodies facing each other to hug on the bed. We both stayed silent as he moved his head back and going along my body, almost inspecting for injuries before he turned to me almost exhausted, letting himself bury his head into my neck and hands holding me close. I smiled lightly before I relaxed, closing my eyes as I felt him bring up our blanket, covering us both in warmth. I felt him move away before I opened my eyes, him smiling back at me. “I love you.” He whispers before kissing me again, making me giggle with happiness. “I love you. More than you know.” I reply as our mouths move away for a second, his smile going across his face before kissing me deeply.

“That means you’re mine, right?”

“Always.”

[lost-in-thoughts03]

Unchained Melody || Hwang Jun-ho

Summary: Your friends just want you to reconnect with nature again. They dragged you into the pottery studio, where you met your handsome tutor for the day.

Warnings: Au, light, tension, kissing, teasing, flirting

You didn’t even have time to argue. The four of them had already Venmo-ed the entrance fee before you could fake a cough or sprain an ankle.

“ Come on.” Jun-hee grinned.

“ It’s either clay or chiropractor. Pick your poison.” Hyun-ju added.

And now, here you are—walking through the rustic wooden archway into a peaceful little pottery haven that smells like earth, lavender, and faint judgment.

The four of you stop dead in your tracks.

“ Wait...we get to make those?” Sae-byeok’s eyes are wide as she points to a line of gorgeously crafted ceramic pieces. “ I thought we were just painting some mugs.”

Your friends are practically vibrating with excitement. You? Not so much. Still, you're here. You pay your fee, get a little welcome badge, and then—plot twist—you find out the place runs on a private tutorial system.

One person.

One room.

One-on-one.

You give your friends a look that clearly says traitors, but they only giggle and vanish behind their assigned doors like they’ve just walked into some spiritual clay utopia.

Your palms are sweating before you even knock.

Inside, the room is warm—sunlight slipping in through a window, a pottery wheel at the center, and your tutor wiping his hands on a cloth as he turns to face you.

“ Hey there.” He gives you a small smile and a little wave. “ I’m Hwang Jun-ho. I’ll be your guide into the world of ceramics today.”

He’s...wow. Tall. Built like a Korean drama action hero on his day off. He’s wearing a denim jumper rolled down to his waist, revealing a black tank top hugging his toned frame. Your brain freezes for a full two seconds.

You wave back with what you hope is not a trembling hand. “ Hi. I’m...uh, I’m here against my will.”

Jun-ho laughs, a low, easy sound. “ Claynapped by your friends?”

“ Exactly. I’m an accounting consultant. This is definitely not in my quarterly plan.”

“ Well, then.” He says, smirking a little as he pulls out a chair for you, “ Let’s make sure the trauma is minimal.”

You sit, trying not to visibly flinch when he takes his seat—right behind you.

Your back stiffens.

“ I’m going to guide your hands.” He says gently. “ Just follow my lead.”

Sure. Easy. Except it isn’t. The moment his warm hands cover yours, you swear your heart lurches into your throat.

He’s close. Like, close-close. You can feel the strength in his chest press lightly against your back, the warmth of his breath brushing your temple.

" Relax your shoulders.” He murmurs. " You're tensing up like I'm about to arrest you."

You laugh—awkward, high-pitched. “ Is that the cop part of your resume talking?”

“ Maybe.” He chuckles. “ But only if the clay misbehaves.”

He helps guide your fingers over the spinning mound of clay. It wobbles. You panic. The shape...well, it starts to resemble something not safe for work.

Jun-ho raises an eyebrow. “ Creative interpretation?”

You clear your throat, cheeks burning. “ Abstract modernism?”

He flicks his fingers beside your ear, and you jump.

“ Focus.” He teases, his tone soft but playful. “ Let’s try again.”

You nod, determined to not make an accidental ceramic scandal. His hands stay on top of yours, his touch firm but steady.

But every time his fingers curl slightly, or his breath tickles your cheek, your brain short-circuits again. This time, you manage to form something that actually resembles a bowl. Kind of. Maybe a squashed one.

He leans in, his lips brushing your ear. “ Much better. You’re starting to get it.”

And then his hands trail down your arms—slow, lingering—before he pulls away. “ You’ve got the hang of it now.”

But you’re barely breathing.

As you shape another lump of clay, you feel something: a finger tracing a slow, lazy circle on your arm.

Goosebumps.

“ You’re doing great.” Jun-ho says, his voice lower now.

“ Just...keep going.”

You’re trying. Really. But he leans in again, breathes warmly against your skin—and before you can stop him, his lips graze your neck.

You gasp.

Your hands falter. The pot flattens again. He chuckles near your ear.

“ Oops…” He says, with absolutely zero remorse.

“ Guess you’ll just have to make another.”

You look at him, flustered, trying not to melt into the chair. “ You’re doing that on purpose.”

He lifts one brow. “ Am I? Or are you just easily distracted?”

You try to come up with a snarky reply, but your brain has officially left the building.

And as he resets the wheel for another round, you can’t help but think—whether you came here willingly or not, this might just turn into the most memorable day you’ve had in a long, long time.

You’re supposed to be focusing on the clay.

That’s what you keep telling yourself, anyway, even as your mind spirals and your heart hammers against your ribs like it’s trying to escape.

The room suddenly feels smaller, warmer. The soft hum of the pottery wheel is the only sound between you and Jun-ho—until he speaks again, his voice smooth, low, and just a little amused.

" You’re quiet now."

You swallow. “ Trying to concentrate.”

“ Hmm…” He murmurs, stepping behind you again.

“ Funny. You were talking just fine until I got too close.”

And there it is. That teasing tone. You don’t need to see him to feel the smirk tugging at his lips.

He reaches around you once more, his hands lightly dusted with clay as they settle over yours. His touch is firmer this time—not instructing, exactly, but guiding, his body brushing against yours like it’s intentional now.

“ You’re tense again.” He whispers, closer than before. His breath dances against your jaw. “ Want to know a trick?”

You nod—wordlessly, because speaking might betray just how breathless you are.

“ Don’t think so much.” He says, guiding your fingers to dip into the clay, shaping its edges.

“ Just feel it.”

Easy for him to say.

You’re doing your best not to combust.

You focus on the spin of the wheel, on the texture between your fingers—but he leans closer, one arm sliding across your stomach to steady the bowl forming under your hands.

His palm presses lightly against your side, anchoring you, while the other stays atop your own.

You shiver.

“ You okay?” He asks, voice rougher now.

“ I—yeah.” You manage, barely.

But you’re not. Not when his thumb starts to make slow circles over your wrist, not when his nose grazes the curve of your neck like he’s testing the air, not when his voice drops another octave.

“ You’re doing so well.” He says. “ You learn fast.”

You feel the flush crawling up your neck, your chest.

“ It helps when the teacher is…very hands-on.”

He chuckles, a low, warm sound right by your ear. “ I could be more hands-on, if that’s what you need.”

Your breath catches.

The bowl starts to wobble again and he grabs your wrists gently, steadying them, steadying you. His hands are warm, fingers splayed over yours. He doesn’t pull away. Neither do you.

“ Careful.” He says, but he’s not talking about the clay anymore.

His fingers trail up your arm again, slower this time. Measured. Testing. You feel your skin light up under his touch, pulse fluttering everywhere at once.

“ I think we should start a new pot.” He murmurs, barely audible now. “ The first one got a little...distracted.”

You turn slightly, just enough to glance at him over your shoulder. He’s closer than ever, his eyes locked on yours, dark and unreadable. The air between you is thin, stretched tight like the edge of a wire.

“ And if I get distracted again?” You whisper.

Jun-ho’s lips curl into a smirk.

“ Then I guess we’ll just have to keep practicing.” He says.

“ Over and over…until it sticks.”

Your eyes flicker to his mouth—and just for a second, it feels like gravity shifts. Like the entire world narrows to the space between you.

His hand lifts, brushing a stray piece of hair behind your ear, fingers grazing your cheek.

The pottery wheel is still spinning, but neither of you moves.

Not yet.

…

It’s your third failed attempt.

The clay droops. Again. Limp and lifeless. It looks like something you'd be arrested for displaying in public. You groan in utter defeat, slumping forward.

Jun-ho laughs—open, full-bodied, dangerously charming.

Then you feel it.

His chin settles lightly on your shoulder, and his arms slip around you, caging you in without resistance. Solid, warm, and all muscle.

You’re trapped—but in the kind of way that makes your breath hitch and your brain short-circuit.

“ You know…” He murmurs against your ear, his voice rough with amusement.

“ You’re the only customer who’s ever made this job feel like chaos and comedy…all rolled into one.”

You tilt your head slightly, and your nose brushes his. The air crackles.

He doesn’t move.

Doesn’t release you.

Just stay there—close enough for you to feel the faintest brush of his breath.

“ I should probably let you go.” He says.

But he doesn’t.

And neither do you.

Your eyes meet. For a moment, everything softens. You scan his face—up close now—the slight crinkle at the edge of his eyes, the way his lashes lower as he watches you like he’s trying to memorize every detail.

His gaze drops.

You follow it.

He’s looking at your lips.

You feel the flicker of tension ripple down your spine the second his tongue slips out to wet his own bottom lip. Then he bites it—lightly, like he’s holding something back.

" You’re really tempting, you know that?" He says quietly.

You can’t speak.

You barely breathe.

His voice lowers, almost a growl now. “ Can I kiss you?”

You nod so fast it’s embarrassing.

He smiles—slow, hungry, and amused—and without wasting another second, he leans in and takes.

The kiss is immediate and all-consuming. Warm lips. Firm pressure. No hesitation. His hand moves to the small of your back, drawing you closer, and your fingers find their way to his shoulders—his neck—his hair.

Your body shifts before you can think about it. You turn in his lap, sliding your legs over his thighs, straddling him without breaking the kiss. His hands settle on your hips like he’s done this a hundred times, like your body just belongs there.

You wrap your arms around his neck, clinging to him as he deepens the kiss—messy, heated, slow but desperate like you’ve both been holding back for far too long.

The pottery wheel is still spinning somewhere in the background, utterly forgotten.

Then—

The door swings open.

Your friends: Sae-byeok, Jun-hee, and Hyun-ju, all standing there with their jaws on the floor.

You freeze.

Jun-ho doesn’t.

He catches you easily when you nearly slide off him in shock, his arm instinctively tightening around your waist. You duck behind him in a rush, cheeks on fire, while your friends howl.

“ Oh my GOD—”

“ Get it, girl!”

“ Is THIS the tutorial?!”

“ Do we get that kind of class too?!”

Jun-ho tilts his head back toward you, utterly unbothered, and winks.

“ Looks like you just earned extra credit.”

You smack his arm, mortified. He only grins, wide and unrepentant, then leans down like he’s about to kiss you again just to make your friends squeal louder.

And in that moment, even through your embarrassment and the teasing echoing through the room—you can’t help but laugh.

Because honestly? You’re so glad they dragged you here.

Clay-covered hands. Failed pots. A ridiculous amount of blushing. And a dangerously good-looking pottery instructor who just made you forget your own name.

Best “nature reconnection” ever.

[itsnesss]

𝐫𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞 | hwang jun-ho × fem!reader

summary | you have an unexpected reunion with Jun-ho after believing he was dead

warnings | angst, unresolved love, smut, explicit content, p in v, unprotected sex

word count | 1.7 k

author's note | it would help me a lot if you liked, commented and reposted so that more people read what I write and don't forget to follow me thanks ᡣ𐭩

The road stretched endlessly in front of you. You were a police officer, but at that moment, as you drove down that lonely highway, you didn't feel the rigidity of your uniform or the weight of your job.

Your mind traveled back to the past, to moments you would rather forget. Years had passed since you lost him. Since that night when he simply disappeared and you never heard from him again.

Suddenly, the lights of a patrol car reflected in your rearview mirror. The blue glow made your heart leap in your chest. Quickly, you checked your speed, confirming that you had been speeding. You cursed under your breath.

You stopped the car and parked it by the side of the road. The blue light continued to shine behind you, but something twisted in your stomach.

You prepared for a short exchange, a speeding ticket, something routine. But when the driver's door opened and you looked up, something made you stop.

There he was. In a traffic police uniform.

Hwang Jun-ho.

You couldn't believe it. Your mind went blank for a moment, as if time itself had stopped. He was staring at you, his dark eyes reflecting something you couldn't identify. For a moment, the air between the two of you thickened, dense with the memories of a past that had never completely faded.

"Good evening" he said, his voice as deep as you remembered, but with a tone you hadn't heard before. "Did you know you were speeding?"

Your body tensed instantly, but it wasn't because of the speeding. It was because of the surprise. For the feeling that the past had returned to hit you hard. You didn't know what to say, you just looked into his eyes, searching for a sign that what you saw in front of you was nothing but an illusion.

"Jun-ho…" you whispered, the word slipping from your lips as if it weren't yours, as if you couldn't believe what you were seeing.

He nodded slowly, his expression unchanged, but there was something in his gaze, something that made you doubt everything you had believed. How was it possible that he was here?

"Didn't you expect to see me here?" he asked, his tone now softer, but with a weight of nostalgia that seemed to hang in the air. "You thought you would never see me again".

A knot formed in your throat. You had asked yourself so many times what had happened to him. If he would ever come back. But the pain of the separation, the void left by his disappearance, was still fresh in your mind. And now you had him in front of you, alive, real, and in a uniform you had never imagined.

You didn't know if you had been waiting for this moment or dreading it.

"Why... are you in transit?" the question slipped out almost unintentionally, but Jun Ho cut it off before you could finish it.

"I needed to start over. Change of scenery" His voice became softer, as if the words he was saying had too great a weight to let go.

You stared at him, unsure if you could believe his words. The situation was surreal. How had he ended up here? What had happened to him since his disappearance? The last time you heard from him, it was when they found him adrift in the ocean, almost lifeless, recovering from everything he had endured. But now he was here, in front of you, as if time hadn't passed at all.

"I thought you had... died." The phrase came out before you could stop it.

Jun Ho let out a sigh, his eyes softened for a second.

"Everyone thought the same," he said, with a faint smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "But I survived. And here I am".

The silence settled between the two of them, heavy, full of unasked questions, of unmentioned memories. And in that moment, something inside you broke. Something you had tried to contain for so long. The need to understand what had happened, to comprehend how it had all been. And more than anything, the need to feel it close again.

"I didn't think I would ever see you again," you said, almost like a whisper.

Jun-ho didn't respond immediately. Instead, he leaned toward the passenger seat, his face now just a few centimeters from yours. The proximity made you tremble. You couldn't deny what you felt, what you had always felt for him. The connection you shared, even after everything that happened, was undeniable.

Suddenly, he moved closer, his lips almost touching yours. A shiver ran through your body as you felt his closeness, and the air became thick. The memories, the emotions, everything you had kept inside overflowed in that moment.

Without thinking, you kissed him.

The kiss was immediate, as if time hadn't passed, as if everything were back to how it used to be. The touch of his lips on yours ignited something within you, something you had kept extinguished for years. The spark, the fire you shared, had never gone out.

Jun-ho's hands traced your face, as if he feared you would vanish at any moment. The gentleness with which he touched you contrasted with the urgency in his kiss. It didn't matter what had happened, what had occurred in the past. At that moment, only the present mattered.

The car no longer seemed like a closed space. The connection between the two of them was palpable, almost electric. You pulled away from his kiss for a moment, taking a breath, but before you could say anything, he leaned in again. This time, he was more determined, more firm.

His hands traveled down your neck, tracing the contour of your skin, and a shiver ran through your body. You felt how desire took hold of both of you, how the chemistry that had remained between you hadn't faded with time. It was as if it had never left.

"I've missed you so much," he said softly, as he kissed you again.

Jun-ho's words made your heart race even faster. You felt as if you had returned to the past, when everything was simpler, when there were no distances, when you both shared dreams and promises. But that promise was broken, and now only the shadows of what once was remained.

The tension in the air was rising, and you couldn't stop thinking about everything that had happened between the two of you. But in that moment, the only thing that mattered was him. All you wanted was to feel him close again.

Jun-ho looked you in the eyes, and without a word, his hands began to unbutton your uniform. The desire grew with every second, with every caress, with every touch of his skin against yours.

You moved to the passenger side, sliding over his lap as his hands removed your uniform. You nestled against his chest, feeling his lips kiss your shoulders, while his hands brushed against your bare skin. The touch of his fingers tracing your curves made you gasp.

Jun-ho kissed you again, deepening the kiss, and his hands moved to the back of your body, towards your buttocks. The gesture made you tremble, and you felt something within you beginning to give in. The tension you had held for so long was fading away.

He leaned close to your ears and whispered something, words you couldn't quite understand, but that seemed to promise something beyond that moment. And instead of waiting, his fingers slid between your thighs, searching for the spot he knew would drive you wild.

The caress of his fingers was soft, tempting, as if they were about to make a promise. The closeness of his body, the proximity of his mouth over you, the softness of his fingers on you, it was all as if you were returning to the past. Everything was as if they had never been apart.

Your breath caught when his fingers found the spot. The desire intensified in an instant. The excitement had brought you to a point you didn't want to leave, and the touch of his hand on you was too much to resist.

You moved slowly over his lap, feeling the bulge of his pants against your thighs. The friction was inevitable, but Jun-ho didn't seem to mind. Instead, he moved with me, his fingers slowly penetrating you. The moans that escaped your throat were involuntary, and Jun Ho muffled them with a kiss. The rhythm of his fingers increased, the penetration deeper and more rhythmic. You couldn't hold out much longer.

Suddenly, Jun Ho stopped you. His fingers left you with a softness that made you gasp. But before you could protest, Jun-ho leaned closer to your ear and whispered.

"I want to feel you" His words made you lose your composure completely. The air in the car had become dense, heavy with desire.

I didn't need any more stimulation. Quickly, you took off your underwear and sat on his lap again.

You slid your hand between his pants, caressing his erection. The sensation of his skin, soft and warm under your touch, was all you needed. You slid it down, revealing his erection in all its glory. It was just as you remembered, big and thick, ready to be fucked.

You didn't take any more time to think. There was no more time for that. You moved over his erection, the position of the car forced you to be the one on top, and that was exactly what you wanted. The position of control was yours at that moment.

You sat on him, his erection brushing against the edge of your entrance, but without penetrating. The torture was as good as it was painful. The friction was all you needed to reach the climax, but it was also what made you want more.

Suddenly, his arms enveloped you, and he pulled you towards him. The movement was abrupt, and his erection sank into you in an instant. The penetration was stronger than you expected, but also more pleasurable.

The scream that escaped your lips was involuntary, but the pleasure was undeniable. Jun-ho moved beneath you, pushing his erection inside you over and over again. Each thrust made you tense a little more, made you sit a little deeper on his cock.

The position of the car made sex a bit more uncomfortable, but that was the last thing on your mind. At that moment, all that mattered was the feeling of having him inside you again, feeling his breath on you, having his body in contact with yours.

"Tell me you haven't forgotten me," you whisper in his ear.

The request was simple, but what lay behind it was much more than just words.

"I have never forgotten you," you replied sincerely, your words coming out in gasps. "I will never be able to do it".

Jun Ho smiled at you, his eyes shining in the darkness of the car. His arms tightened around you, and he pushed a little deeper inside you. Your breath caught for a moment, the pleasure rising to a new level.

"Then, tell me that you will always love me" he whispered again.

The words slipped from your lips without thinking.

"Yes, I always loved you. I always will".

Jun-ho smiled again, but this time, there was something in his eyes, an emotion that seemed to shine like fire. His arms tightened around you a little more, and he began to move beneath you again. The position was uncomfortable, but it didn't matter. All that mattered was the rhythm, the feel of his cock inside you.

Their breathing became labored. The pleasure intensified with each thrust, but it wasn't just the sex that made you lose your composure. It was the closeness of having him there, of having him back in your life.

Their breathing became labored. The pleasure intensified with each thrust, but it wasn't just the sex that made you lose your composure. It was the closeness of having him there, of having him back in your life.

When you reached the climax, the scream that came out of you was not just one of pleasure. It was one of liberation, of having released everything you had been holding back for years.

Jun-ho arrived just a moment later, his body tensing beneath you as he came. The warm fluid spilled inside you, and you felt his erection pulsing within you.

Both of your breathing became gentle, and for a moment, there were no words between you. Only the sound of the air moving in the car was audible. Jun-ho gently stroked your hair as you leaned on his shoulder, feeling his skin against yours.

"You won't give me a ticket for having sex in the car, will you?" you joked a moment later.

Jun Ho laughed softly, his lips brushing against your hair.

"No" He smiled in the darkness. "I think you've already paid me in full".

You laughed softly and leaned a little more into his arms.

[wcnderlnds]

right now ★ hwang jun-ho

・❥・ summary: junho had been your best friend for as long as you could remember so when a traumatic event happens and he's lost, you help him find his way. ・❥・word count: 2.7k ・❥・warnings: 18+. mdni. unprotected p in v, best friends to lovers. idk v soft smut. mentions of injury. ・❥・ authors note: so... i wanted to get this out of my head bc ive been rewatching squid game and i love my sweet little detective. i added my usual taglist but feel free to skip past it if you're not interested <3

It felt like your heart had plummeted into the pit of your stomach when you got word that Junho was in the hospital. For days he’d been missing. That wasn’t like him. No matter what he was doing, no matter where work took him, he always kept you updated on his whereabouts so you didn’t worry about him. The last thing you’d heard from him was that he was trying to find Inho – his brother. It was a lost cause, Inho had been missing for years by now but you knew that Junho had never given up hope. One thing you loved about him was that he was determined, whenever he set his mind to something he always tried his best to make it happen. If anyone could find Inho, it was him. But, the fact that he’d gone missing for days made you think something terrible had happened.

Junho had been your best friend since you were kids. Both of you had been the quiet kids, solely focused on your school work. It had been a study session where you’d initially met and bonded. Since that moment, you’d been joined at the hip. You’d gone through everything together. Health scares, job changes, break ups – none of that had ever tore you apart. If anything, it only brought you closer through the years. So close that somewhere along the way you’d started to develop feelings for him. He didn’t know, there was no way you could tell him. The bond you had was too important to you for you to ruin it. Those feelings would have to be kept under lock and key. He never seemed interested in relationships anyway, his sole focus had been his work as a detective. Yet another thing you admired about him. His dedication to his craft was so admirable.

Panic had immediately sent in, your feet carrying you to the hospital where he was. It took about five minutes to navigate through the bland halls after bothering a member of staff. Finally, you took a deep breath and pushed open the door to his room. There he was. Hooked up to machines, his eyes closed.

From what the nurse had told you, he’d been shot and found out in the waters. If it wasn’t for some fisherman saving him, he probably wouldn’t be alive right now. You had to stop yourself from crying as you saw him lying there helpless. Never had you seen him like this. Even after his kidney transplant, he was too stubborn to just lay there and do nothing. Now, he had no choice, stuck in a coma-like state.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

For days, you had stayed by his side until the moment he woke up. His mom had been there, too, alerting the doctors that he was finally awake. You had been holding his hand, his grip tightening on yours when he finally woke up. It felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders when you saw those gorgeous eyes of his finally looking back at you.

It was another day or so in the hospital before he was finally allowed home. You helped ease him into bed – doctor’s orders that he had to take it easy for a few days. Perching on the bed, you looked at him, eyes laced with concern.

“Do you want anything? Food? Water? I can run to the store if there’s somethin-” You were cut off.

“I saw him, Y/N. Inho, I saw him,” Junho mumbled, eyes almost pleading with you to listen to him. You were the only one he could trust enough to tell.

“What? Are you sure?” You asked, almost in disbelief.

“Yeah, I swear, I did.”

Junho proceeded to tell you everything he’d been through. It was almost crazy, something out of a nightmare but you could tell by the sincerity in his eyes, the panic shining there that this was all true. Junho had never given you a reason to doubt him before so you wouldn’t ignore him now. It took you a moment to form cohesive thoughts, wanting to make sure you took care with your words. This was such an insane situation.

“I believe you but… you’re going to have a hard time convincing anyone else.”

And, you were right. As the months passed and Junho told his story about the island and the murders – missing out on the details about his brother – he found it hard to find anyone that would really take him seriously. The police department had sent him to therapy, insitisng that it was just the trauma of his injuries making him tell these wild stories. It did seem to help. After a while, he stopped talking about it, even asking to be put into the traffic department at work. He wanted to be on the streets, not sitting in his office left to his thoughts.

Or that's what everyone thought but you knew him better.

Junho wanted to be out there where he could talk to people, maybe come across someone he recognised from the games. Well, there was really only one person he could recognise – everyone else had been masked and he hadn’t come across Seong Gihun ever since the games. For all he knew, he had died along with everyone else there. 

He was clinging on to the tiny shred of hope he had left. 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“Thought I might find you here,” you said softly. Junho hadn’t replied to your texts all day which was unusual for him. Usually, you’d be texting non-stop, all day long. So, you’d gone to the one place you knew he’d be – at the station. It was empty, the dim lights casting an orange glow across the bullpen. It was serene, his safe space.

“Hey,” he mumbled, focusing on some paperwork in front of him. He was sitting at his desk, filing all the parking tickets that he’d given out throughout the day.

“What’s on your mind?”

“Nothing.”

His reply was short, unlike him. You perched on his desk right next to where he was sitting, a heavy sigh passing your lips. “Don’t lie to me, Junho.”

“I said nothing. I’m fine,” he dared to look up at you, his face blank but you could see the frustration, the tension lingering there.

“You’re obviously not. Talk to me.” The way you were looking at him, it was almost enough to make him cave and tell you everything that was on his mind so he looked away. He had burdened you enough.

“Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like… nevermind,” he shook his head. He couldn’t say what was on his mind because if he did then he’d have to confront something he’d been trying to fight for a long time. His feelings for you had grown to so much more than friendship and… he knew yours had, too. He was perceptive, he noticed the details. It was part of his job as a detective. Confronting them meant the possibility of ruining your friendship and he couldn’t lose you. You were the only person he had left, the one good thing in his life and he wasn’t going to risk that.

But, you were.

At this point, you’d had enough. You needed to do something bold that would get him talking or at least take his mind off things. So, after a mental pep talking with yourself, you moved to sit on his lap, straddling him. You lifted your fingers to tilt his chin to look at you. In his eyes you could see a swirl of emotions; confusion, frustration and a tiniest hint of lust. “Do you trust me?”

“Always,” he said, voice strained as he gazed into your eyes. His hands hovered slightly, not knowing exactly what to do with them.

“Good,” you whispered. Nervously, you cupped his cheek and leaned in. Your lips met hesitantly, moving slowly against his. He was taken aback but slowly leaned into it, kissing you back. His hands found their place on your hips like he was anchoring himself to you. His mind was screaming at him to stop, the friendship not worth ruining but it was the most at peace he’d felt in a very long time.

He pulled you harder against him, shifting his hips to settle in his chair more which in turn accidentally caused him to rut up into your. You softly moaned into the kiss, Junho taking the opportunity to deepen it, his tongue sliding past the seam of your lips to meet yours. The taste of you was intoxicating, like a forbidden fruit he shouldn’t be touching but now he’d had a taste of you, he couldn’t get enough. That sound, he needed to hear it again. He pushed his hips up into yours again and this time you ground against him, feeling his length hardening against the fabric of your shorts. His hands guided your movements, pulling you against him.

“Tell me to stop,” he said breathlessly. “Tell me to stop and I will.”

“No,” you said, pressing kisses down his jaw and to his neck. “I don’t want you to.”

His head tilted, allowing you more access to his neck. You trailed your lips along his skin, finding a spot that was particularly sensitive and biting down on it, sucking the skin there. Junho let out a quiet groan, thrusting up into your clothed core harder now. You ran your tongue along the reddening mark, hands sliding up under his shirt to feel his skin. Junho shivered at your touch, his own hands pulling off your shirt, tossing it onto his desk. His eyes zoned in on your breasts, leaning in to press kisses against the soft skin there. All the while his hands moved around to your back sliding up until he found the clasp of your bra. With expertise, he unclasped it, pulling back to toss it to the side along with your shirt.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, caressing your cheek before leaning back down. His tongue swirled around one of your nipples, lightly sucking on the hardening bud until it was a stiff peak then he switched his attention to the other one.

“Junho,” you gasped as your hand threaded into his hair urging him on. 

His head lifted up to capture your lips in another searing kiss. This one was more urgent, more desire coursing through his veins. His earlier worries were long gone, all that was on his mind was the urge to have you. His fingers danced along the edge of your sweatpants before dipping inside the fabric of your panties. One slender finger ran through your folds, a low groan passing his lips as he felt your arousal. “You’re already so wet for me.”

“I’ve been thinking about this for so long,” you admitted, gasping when his thumb found your clit, rubbing rapid, tight circles against it.

“Yeah?” He smirked against the skin of your collarbone. “For how long?”

“Too long.”

“Then I guess you don’t want to mess around then, huh?” His head lifted, that shit eating smirk on his face as he brushed some of your hair out of your face, his expression softening. “If you want to do this, really do this then undress for me but… if you don’t, it’s okay. We can just keep it at this.”

“Are you kidding me?” You laughed slightly, standing up to rid yourself of your shorts and panties, completely bare to him. “Like I said, I’ve thoughts about this for a long time. I’m too far gone to stop now.”

You dropped down to the floor on your knees, your hands sliding up his thighs to tug at his jeans. He lifted his hips up from where he sat, allowing you to pull them and his boxers down just enough to free him from the confines. His erection sprang up against his stomach, his chest heaving as he watched you lick your lips at the sight of him. Your hand wrapped around his length, pumping him a few times. Precum leaked from the tip and you fought the urge to lean forward to get a taste of him but that could wait for another time. All you wanted right now was to feel your best friend inside of you.

You rose back to your feet, pushing him back in the chair as you made a move to straddle him again. Your eyes softened as they met his, it was your turn now to ask him if he was sure. “Do you want this?”

“Yes,” he spoke softly. “I want you.”

That was all the confirmation you needed. You guided his cock to your entrance, one hand braced on his shoulder as you ever so slowly sank down onto him. You groaned as he breached your entrance, the feeling of him inside you better than you could’ve ever imagined. Junho’s hands gripped your hips as you took him to the hilt, his fingers digging into the skin. Not hard but not softly either. Just enough.

The moment lingered as you both got used to the feeling, the only sounds filling the room were your heavy breaths mixed with the occasional beeping of some of the machines in the background. Then, you lifted your hips and sank back down. The sound coming from Junho was heavenly. You set a slow, steady pace, wrapping your arms around his neck as you confidently rode him.

“You feel so good,” he groaned, his eyes darting down to look at where you were joined. “Better than anything I’ve ever felt.”

That tore a small breathless giggle from you causing Junho to smile up at you, capturing your lips. His hips moved up to meet yours, his hands helping you move against him. Soon enough, you picked up speed, the sound of your skin meeting echoing through the room. You rested your forehead against Junho’s, his hand now cupping your cheek as he gazed at you with nothing but adoration. He hadn’t felt this good in years. Not just physically but mentally. Being here, joined with you felt… right. Like, he was at home.

“Junho,” you whined, losing your rhythm as your release barrelled towards you. “I’m so close.”

He took this as his sign to take over, rutting his hips up into you at a wild pace, determined to bring you both to your peak. His hands found their place on your ass, grasping it and using it as leverage to thrust up into you. “Me too. Cum for me, pretty girl. I want to see you let go.”

It was one hard thrust that hit that deep spot inside you that had you spiralling. Your orgasm washed over you, your head falling to his shoulder as you moaned out his name, body tensing with the force of it. The feeling of your walls tightening against his length, pulling him in was his undoing. With a groan, he spilled inside you, holding you tight against him.

The gravity of the moment wasn’t lost on him as he came down but he wasn’t worried. He placed a few soft kisses on your shoulder before moving your head so he could look at you. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you whispered softly. “I’m good. Are you?”

“Yeah…”

“Junho, I-”

But he cut you off before you could finish. “I know. You don’t have to say it.”

“Of course you know,” you rolled your eyes playfully. “But I want to say it. I… love you. More than a friend. I have for a long time and if you don’t, if this is what you want it to be then that’s okay and we can just go back to how we were but… I needed you to know anyway.”

“You’re crazy if you don’t think I feel the same. I’ve been in love with you for years, how could you not tell?”

“Sorry we can’t all be detectives with incredible perception.”

He laughed, giving your hips a squeeze. “Less of the sass or else.”

“Or else what?” You challenged.

Junho gave a teasing thrust up into you causing you to shutup immediately. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

He grinned, pressing his lips to yours in a kiss full of emotion. He knew that if he had you, that no matter what happened over the next few years, he’d be okay. You were his home.

taglist (ask to be added!): @ldydeath @infinetlyforgotten @berfgrimm @loveesiren @justsisse @sherrayyyyy @aizshallnotbefound @fleabagspurplewife @gemzyy @bettelaboure @gdinthehouseee @breakmeoff @babyrvis @flymetothexmoon @forevervibezzzz1 @ttturnitup @szonyix6277 @riddlerloveb0t @youlikeex @septywitch @melanatedhorrorqueen @l5byrinth @tabibabib

[miihho]

can you please write the type of guy for jun ho (the policeman)😍😍

THE KIND OF GUY

(squid game edition boys)

Hwang Jun ho

SFW

—He’s the kind of guy who’d wait for the right person, for a relationship that felt genuine and effortless, where you wouldn’t have any worries or regrets when opening up and sharing your secrets. He would never rush or settle for something that didn’t feel real. When he finally fell in love with you, he’d be determined to make you feel the same. He’d take the time to really understand you, not just your likes and dislikes, but the deeper parts of who you are. He’d remember the little things, like the type of flowers you adored, your favorite candies, or even the specific kind of food that made your eyes light up with joy.

Each thoughtful gesture would be his way of showing how much he cared, how much he was willing to give. But what he didn’t realize was that you had already fallen first. You had fallen for the quiet moments, for the way he cared without expectation, for the sincerity in his actions. He just didn’t know that while he was falling deeper, you had already given him your heart without him even asking.

—He’s the kind of guy who would slip up behind you while you're cooking, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his head gently on your shoulder or atop yours, as if grounding himself in your warmth.

—He’s the kind of guy who would feed you while leaving his own food untouched, insisting that you eat first. When you tell him you can manage on your own, he’d simply refuse, because seeing you enjoy your meal and knowing you're full is all he needs to feel content.

—He would smile whenever you kissed him. He just couldn’t help it >< The moment your lips touched his, that soft, uncontrollable smile would spread across his face. It wasn’t just because he loved you, but because every kiss felt like a reminder of how lucky he was to have you, how much he cherished each small, perfect moment with you. Even in the middle of a kiss, his heart would flutter with a joy so pure it couldn't be contained.

—He’s the kind of guy who would say, "Come here," and pull you into his arms when you're sitting too far from him, just wanting to keep you close.

—He’s the kind of guy who can’t take his eyes off of you, always lost in the way you move, the way you speak, the way you exist. He keeps telling you, "You're so beautiful, baby," or "You're so pretty, Y/n," as if those words could capture even a fraction of the admiration he feels for you. Every glance he gives you is filled with awe, wanting you to know just how stunning you are to him, every single moment.

If you’re wearing heels, he would immediately notice the discomfort on your face and insist that you wear his shoes instead, wanting you to feel comfortable. When you both get home, he’d take your feet in his hands and gently massage away the pain, his touch soothing and tender as he made sure you felt relaxed and cared for after a long day.

—He’s the kind of guy who will baby you in the most loving way, always putting your needs first. Whether it's carrying your bags even when you could manage, washing the dishes without a second thought, or gently putting your heels or shoes on for you, he finds joy in taking care of you. If you have a favorite dish, he’ll dedicate time to learning how to cook it just for you, hoping nothing more than to see that smile light up your face. Each meal he prepares is a gesture of love, a constant reminder of how deeply he cherishes you and how far he’ll go to make you feel special.

—He’s the kind of guy who will baby you in the most loving way, always putting your needs first. Whether it's carrying your bags even when you could manage, washing the dishes without a second thought, or gently putting your heels or shoes on for you, he finds joy in taking care of you. If you have a favorite dish, he’ll dedicate time to learning how to cook it just for you, hoping nothing more than to see that smile light up your face. Each meal he prepares is a gesture of love, a constant reminder of how deeply he cherishes you and how far he’ll go to make you feel special.

—He’s the kind of guy who would keep hair ties on his wrist just for you. If you're eating and your hair starts getting in the way, he’d reach over, gently pull your hair back, and tie it up for you, without a second thought.

—He would caress your face softly as you sleep, his fingers tracing the gentle curves of your cheeks. Watching you so peacefully, he’d silently admire you, marveling at how beautiful you are, every feature perfect in his eyes. With a quiet smile, he’d think to himself just how lucky he was to have you, savoring the moment as he let the tenderness of his love wash over him.

—He’s the kind of guy who would cuddle you while you're watching a movie, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close. But even though the movie is playing, his attention would probably be on you, his eyes soft as he watches every little expression you make. When you catch him staring, you’d ask why, and he’d simply smile and say nothing, his gaze never leaving you, saying nothing because the answer is clear: he’s lost in the beauty of just being with you.

—Hes the kind of guy who never missed the little things, like the sidewalk rule. Every time you walked together, he instinctively positioned himself closest to the street, shielding you without a second thought. It was his quiet way of saying, “I’ll always keep you safe,” through actions rather than words, a subtle yet profound reminder of how deeply he cared.

—He’s the kind of guy who simply wants to be beside you, lying in bed with no rush. He’d gently shift to pull you closer, finding his way to your body as if he couldn’t resist being near you. He’d hold you, offering a quiet reassurance, shielding you from any nightmares that might creep in. Without even thinking, his hand would find yours, the connection so natural, even while you sleep. He’d press a soft kiss to your forehead, savoring the moment, feeling your steady heartbeat beneath his chest as you rest peacefully in his arms. In the quiet of the night, your bodies would naturally intertwine, a silent bond that needed no words, just the comfort of being together. He’d simply want to stay there, wrapped up in the serenity of being with you.

—When Jun Ho was working, his mind would often drift to you, unbidden but welcome. He’d find himself smiling at the thought of your beautiful features—your laughter, the way your eyes lit up, the sound of your voice. It didn’t matter how stressful the day was; just the memory of you was enough to brighten his mood and make everything feel lighter. You were his favorite distraction, the one thought that made every day better.

— He’s a respectful and sweet guy who’s never afraid to show affection. He’s loyal, always by your side, whether it’s going on walks hand-in-hand, joking around, or simply watching the stars together in peaceful silence. He’ll lay down with you and talk about anything and everything, remembering all the little details about you, because he truly listens. His style matches yours, making the two of you feel like a perfect pair. He loves sharing meals with you, his favorite moments being spent with you close by, his love language spoken through physical touch.

He’s the kind of guy who doesn't judge, offering random compliments and reassurance just when you need it. He’s always open about his emotions, never hiding how he feels, making sure you know where you stand in his heart. His cute smile and tall frame, along with his nice sense of style, are just the icing on the cake. What really matters is the depth of his affection for you, and how he makes you feel loved and valued every single day.

—He’s the kind of guy who would work tirelessly, putting in the effort to build a future because he wants to give you everything you deserve. His goal isn’t just financial success—it’s about making sure he can provide for you, spoil you with all the things you’ve ever dreamed of, and create a life where you never have to worry. Above all, he wants to wife you up, to make you feel cherished and loved, and give you a life filled with happiness, comfort, and everything your heart desires.

—In the beginning, he would be a little scared to touch you, unsure of doing something wrong. He’d always ask for your consent, making sure that you were comfortable with every step. If you ever told him to stop or if he saw that you were hurt, he would immediately pull back, respecting your boundaries without question. His care for you would always come first, making sure you felt safe and respected, no matter what.

NSFW

—He's the kind of guy eho would kiss you with SUCH intensity, like he couldn’t get enough of you, completely captivated by your lips. His passion would be undeniable, and if you ever found yourself out of breath, he would pull away just for a moment, giving you a chance to catch your breath before devouring you again. He just wants to feel connected to you in that intimate, consuming way:(

—He's the kind of guy possesses a possessive nature, frequently holding both of your hands while engaging in intimate activities with you. His affectionate gestures extend beyond physical touch, as he often kisses your neck, leaving distinctive love marks for all to see, proclaiming your status as his to anyone who lays eyes on you.

—He’s the kind of guy who’s never been in a rush for children, but when he saw his friends with their little ones, calling them “Papa” and “Mama,” something inside him shifted. A sudden ache, a yearning for a future with you—one where he could see your belly round with his child. Eventually, the thought of it all became too real, and one day, he asked you to make it happen. When you agreed, his heart swelled with joy, and though it was his first time with you in such a way, He's gentle, always careful not to hurt you, especially during intimate moments. Why? Because he got a big dick.

His hands held your hips with a firm yet tender grip, his breath coming in heavy, labored gasps as he endeavored to ease himself inside you. Despite his utmost patience and the slow, deliberate thrusts, he felt your body instinctively resist, clenching tightly around him

"Fuck..." he muttered, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he tried to catch his composure. "You're so tight baby, i don't think I'm gonna fit. I'm scared that I'm gonna hurt you."

He craved to be buried so deep within you that your body would have no recourse but to accommodate him, to force his release to take root and grow inside your belly. The thought drove him to the brink of madness, his massive member throbbing with the need to claim you completely.

"Baby, I’m sure it will fit," you murmured, your voice soft yet reassuring as your eyes locked onto his. "Just take it nice and slowly," you added, a gentle smile gracing your lips. His gaze, filled with hesitation and worry, lingered on you for a moment before he nodded, trusting you completely.

He exhaled sharply, every muscle in his body coiled with restraint. “Alright, then relax for me sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing as his lips ghosted over your jaw, his hands moved with deliberate care, sliding lower to steady you.

With a growl, he pressed his tip forward slowly, his moans mingling with the feeling of your walls stretching and fluttering around him. “That’s it, baby. Just like that. You’re doing so well for me,” he murmured. With each careful thrust, you felt yourself surrendering more, wanting him to fill you completely. Inch by inch, he expanded you wider than you ever thought possible, and when he was finally buried deep inside you, a primal groan escaped his lips.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” he asked, his voice laced with concern as he searched your eyes. You nodded, and a wave of relief washed over him. “See?” you teased softly, a playful smile dancing on your lips. “I told you I can take you.”

His heart swelled with affection at your words, and he couldn’t help but smile back. “I’m just glad you’re comfortable,” he replied, his brow relaxing. Then, he leaned in, capturing your lips in a tender kiss, pouring all his relief and desire into that moment, deepening the connection that bound you both.

After breaking away from the kiss, he began to move, feeling your body welcome him so perfectly that moans escaped his lips with each careful thrust. “Fuck, I love you so much,” Jun-ho breathed out in a deep, breathless groan, his grip on you tightening as he leaned closer, his words thick with need. “I want to do this all the time—every day, baby. I want to get you pregnant with my baby,” he rasped, his eyes half-lidded in pure pleasure, completely lost in the sensation.

Each thrust pulled the words from his lips, as if he couldn’t contain himself. His body trembled with bliss as the thought of having you like this repeatedly only fueled his desire. With a desperate urgency, he quickened his pace, grinding against you, determined to make this moment stretch into eternity. (You would be adorned with love bites all over your body, and your insides filled to the brim with him—so much that it began to drip out)

—He also possess incredible stamina in bed, playfully requesting just one more round, which often turned into several more.

—Jun Ho would always take care of you after sex, carefully cleaning your body with tender hands. He’d run a warm washcloth over your skin, savoring the intimacy of the moment. His gentle touch would soothe both your body and mind, ensuring you felt cherished and relaxed. He’d leave soft kisses along your shoulders and neck, whispering sweet nothings that made your heart flutter. He wanted you to know just how special you were to him, ensuring you felt loved and valued long after the passion had faded.

—If he's getting freaky he'll clean your pussy by eating you out :3

[lieutenantbatshit]

the one that got away. (hwang jun-ho x reader)

Tags: no happy ending, reader calls in-ho “hyung”, jun-ho is your first love, mentions of death, grief

Summary: You and Hwang Jun-ho were once deeply in love, but broke up ten years ago. You both lived in the same city yet remained strangers by choice. When your father dies, grief pulls old wounds to the surface, and the man who once held your heart appears once more. Some love stories don’t end with closure, just the ache of almost.

————

Ten years is a long time to bury something, especially a love that once threatened the world.

Seoul had never been so small, but it had a cruel sense of humor. Ten years ago, you and Jun-ho had been everything. Young and stubborn, but all-consuming under their own weight. You parted ways with sharp words and silence, no promises of friendship or reunion. It was a relationship that was always doomed to end.

You both remained in Seoul. You both had different circles, different routines, but sometimes — just sometimes — you’d catch a glimpse of him across the street, or in the platform waiting for the train to arrive. He never looked you way, or maybe he did but didn’t choose to show it. You did the same.

Whatever you once were, it had calcified into something untouchable. A shared history neither of you dared to open.

Then, your father passed away.

You hadn’t expected the grief to sit so quietly at first, like a guest too polite to make demands. But it showed up in odd places such as the burnt smell of coffee, wilted flowers, a cigarette being lit up, and the echo of your father’s voice whenever you greet him at home.

Your father’s passing came without fanfare. A message from your mother breaking the news through text, which you felt as if the world was crashing down. You had to handle everything — made arrangements, informed family, friends, and relatives who needed to know of your father’s passing as a father, husband, brother, and friend.

As you were scrolling through your feed, seeing comments from various people sending their condolences, a message from In-ho popped up. It’s been a long time since you and the Hwang brothers have interacted, but they remained respectful and kept the connection within your families.

“Hi. I’m sorry to reach out like this. I just heard about your father. I hope you don’t mind me asking, when is the wake?”

You stared at the screen, seeing the name Hwang In-ho in your notifications. It had been a while since you received something from the Hwangs. You met In-ho multiple times back then during your time with Jun-ho.

“Thanks for reaching out, hyung. The wake will be held for five days to accommodate dad’s relatives coming abroad. It’s at the memorial hall in Mapo.”

Your fingers hesitated over the screen as you finished typing, trying to think of ways to improve the message, but you pressed send anyway. It wasn’t because you were surprised, but because something about it felt too fragile. Like time was folding in on itself, reminding you of a life you’d tried to shelve neatly away.

“Thank you. I’ll try to stop by. Take care of yourself.”

You slipped your phone back into your coat, the air around you felt different. As if it charged, like something unspoken had stirred from sleep.

You shook your head, stirring off the thoughts away, You had a wake and funeral to hold for, and all of that needed your focus. Especially your mother, who needed you the most at this challenging time.

——

The scent of white chrysanthemums hung in the air, faint but suffocating.

You’d been standing near your father’s portrait for hours, nodding quietly at people whose names blurred together. They were your family’s neighbors, colleagues, and friends you hadn’t seen in years. They came with practiced sympathy, bowing their heads, offering hands and words, and then moving on.

The memorial hall buzzed with low voices and the rustling of formal clothes. Incense smoke curled in gentle spirals. You couldn’t look at the view of your father’s casket across the room with his portrait. The situation hadn’t sinked yet. You haven’t cried — not properly, at least.

Somehow, you still expected to hear his voice around the corner, still pictured him in front of a computer coding with crackers on a plate and a glass of water, still felt the residual heat of his steady presence.

You blinked slowly as the room blurred. The doors opened, immediately darting your eyes away as you didn’t want to dwell on the sight in front of you.

And then, there was In-ho.

He stepped into the hall with quiet certainty, dressed in black, his face more worn than you remembered, shadows gathered beneath his eyes. He hadn’t changed. He was still composed, and he still had that calm presence that once made you feel like nothing could collapse if he was standing close enough.

Your heart swelled unexpectedly at the sight of him. He approached you gently, offering a polite bow to your father’s casket first. Then, he turned to you.

“I’m sorry,” In-ho said softly, his voice low. “My sincere condolences to you and your family, Y/N.”

You nodded, words caught behind your throat. You couldn’t bring yourself to say thank you.

He looked at you a moment longer, eyes searching yours. He wasn’t prying nor demanding. He stepped closer, then opened his arms slightly.

It was barely a hug. Just an arm around your shoulders as he rubbed his hand to comfort you.

But it undid you.

The tears came sharp and sudden, like water behind a dam finally breaking. You collapsed into him, face buried in his shoulder, fists curled into the front of his coat. A sob broke from your chest, raw and unfiltered.

In-ho didn’t move nor speak. He just held you, firm and steady, letting you fall apart. It felt like finding a brother again. Not by blood, but by time. A quiet, powerful bond that had outlived distance and silence.

And then, out of the corner of your eye, you saw him.

Jun-ho.

He stood near the back of the room, half-shadowed behind the rows of chairs, his eyes locked on you. You didn’t know how long he’d been there. Long enough to see you break, long enough to watch his brother wrap you in the comfort he used to offer.

You pulled away from In-ho gently, brushing the tears from your face. Your breath was shallow, but you nodded.

“Thank you, hyung,” you whispered.

He gave you a faint smile, resting a hand on your shoulder. “He’s always gonna be proud of you, yeodeongsaeng.”

You stayed still a moment after pulling away from In-ho, grounding yourself in the weight of his hand on your shoulder. He gave it a final, brief squeeze before stepping back, his expression unreadable but kind. The space between you filled again with the low hum of visitors and the rustle of formal shoes across polished floors.

You caught your breath, wiped your eyes with the sleeve of your blouse, and tried to reset your face into something presentable. But grief didn’t care about appearances. It softened the edges of time and brought tenderness to the surface, whether you wanted it or not.

“Have you eaten?” You asked In-ho gently, glancing toward the food corner set up by the memorial hall staff that included tea, coffee, rice cakes, and a tray of neatly wrapped sandwiches.

He shook his head faintly. “Didn’t want to interrupt anything.”

“You’re not interrupting,” you said, offering a ghost of a smile. “Come on. I’ll fix you a plate.”

You walked with him in silence, grateful for something to do. You poured him a paper cup of barley tea, handed him a few pieces of yakgwa, some fruits. There was a quiet comfort in the small gestures. For a moment, it almost felt like you were just two people trying to outpace the heaviness around you.

In-ho accepted the offerings with a nod of thanks, then stepped aside, saying he’d give you space and check in again before leaving.

And then, as you turned back toward the center of the hall, you saw Jun-ho again.

He approached slowly, hands at his sides, dressed simply in black. His eyes met yours, unsure, but steady. There was no mistaking the hesitation in his step or the weight of everything that had been left unsaid between you. It pressed in with every footfall.

“Hey,” he said, voice lower than you remembered, more cautious.

You nodded once. “Hi.”

He bowed slightly toward your father’s casket before looking back at you. “I’m… really sorry,” he said. “I didn’t expect it to be this so soon.”

Your heart ached, in ways you hadn’t prepared for. Seeing him here was a kind of comfort and cruelty all at once.

“Thank you for coming,” you said. “It means a lot.”

He shifted his weight, eyes flicking briefly toward the tea table, then back to you.

“I remember you used to talk about your dad a lot,” he said softly. “How he’d come home smelling like smoke and cheap soju… but still remember to bring you those fish cakes you liked.”

You let out a quiet, tearful laugh, not expecting it.

“Yeah,” you said, voice catching. “He never quit. I couldn’t blame him.”

Jun-ho nodded, lips pressing into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “He loved you,” he said. “Even when you were mad at him.”

You swallowed hard. “We had our fights. He could be difficult. But… he was mine.” The words were small but solid. You looked down at your hands. “I used to tell you how I’d sit with him at the end of the night, after my mom went to bed. He’d pour himself a glass, put on that old trot music, and tell me stories that made no sense.”

“You’d say he was a terrible storyteller,” Jun-ho said quietly.

“But I loved every one of them,” you finished.

Silence settled between you like a blanket, not cold this time, just heavy with shared memory. The kind of silence that came from knowing someone long enough to carry the same ghosts.

You stood there for a moment, both of you held in that fragile stillness where grief softened old sharp edges, and memory folded into the present without needing permission.

You gestured toward the empty chairs by the side of the room, a bit away from the flow of people. “Do you want to sit for a while?”

Jun-ho gave a faint nod. “Yeah. Sure.”

The two of you settled into the low chairs, side by side but angled just enough to see one another. The kind of closeness that didn’t need touch to be felt. You stared ahead at the altar, your father’s framed photo resting above the white flowers, candles flickering in tribute. The old you would’ve talked more, filled the air with noise to push back the sadness. But now, you let it sit between you both.

“Do you remember,” you said eventually, your voice low, “when he would be my guardian during field trips and you were so shy to meet him?”

Jun-ho’s lips curved slightly. “Can you blame me? He had that look that would make you rethink your decisions twice.”

You huffed a soft laugh. “Yeah, he did. He was like hyung.”

The smile on your lips faded slowly, replaced by a softer expression. It was something quieter, a mixture of sorrow and gratitude. “He knew about you. You became a funny memory for us, actually. He would tease me on how I looked after crying.”

Jun-ho didn’t answer at first. He looked down at his hands, clasped loosely in his lap. “I looked up to him,” he said finally. “And I… I thought about you. Sometimes. A lot, actually. I just didn’t think it would be like this. That the next time I saw you, it would be here.”

That ache returned, that aching swell of things left behind. But it wasn’t bitter. Not anymore. Just deeply human. Two people who had grown in the shadow of each other’s absence.

“I didn’t expect you to come,” you admitted. “But I’m glad you did.”

Jun-ho looked at you then, really looked, and for a moment the years between you blurred. There was nothing grand in the moment—no sweeping confessions, no romantic music swelling in the background.

Just the soft hum of incense, the warmth of shared history, and the quiet closeness of two people sitting together in grief and memory.

“I’m glad too,” he said.

The hall thinned out. Only a few guests remained where distant relatives gathered in corners, old family friends finishing their tea. The silence had changed now — it no longer carried the weight of ritual, but the hush that follows when grief begins to take root in your bones. The kind of quiet that lets everything you’ve been avoiding rise to the surface. The light had softened through the high windows, casting a pale warmth over the flowers and photographs.

Jun-ho leaned forward, elbows on his knees, fingers laced tightly. “I’ve been thinking,” he said finally, voice barely above a whisper, “about the last time we talked.”

Your breath hitched a little. It had been four years ago on a rainy afternoon, over coffee neither of you finished. You had just started finding your footing again. He said he wasn’t ready. You weren’t, either. But it still left a sting you never quite stopped feeling.

You kept your eyes on the floor. “You said we were too late back then.”

He nodded, gaze faraway. “We were.”

“And then, you stopped reaching out,” you added quietly. “And I found out… someone else was already in the picture.”

Jun-ho didn’t deny it. He just sat there, hands tightening slightly. “It wasn’t like that,” he said, though even he sounded unsure. “Things weren’t… official. Not then.”

“Still,” you murmured. “You chose not to come back.”

A beat passed between you, heavy and taut. Then he turned to you, meeting your eyes.

“She’s still around,” he said, not unkindly. Just a fact. “We’ve been… steady.”

You nodded. It wasn’t surprising. The way he said it had no affection, no bitterness, just the weight of something that stayed. Enough to tell you more than he probably meant it to.

You took a breath. “I’ve got someone too,” you said gently, and you didn’t mean it as a competition. Just another truth laid between you both. “For a while now.”

He gave a small nod. Not a flinch, not a reaction. But you saw something shift behind his eyes. A recognition, maybe. A loss that no longer had a name.

“I used to think,” you said slowly, “that if we ever crossed paths again, we’d just… fall back in. Like we used to. Like muscle memory.”

Jun-ho exhaled. “Me too.”

You gave him a soft look, a tired smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “But it’s different now.”

He nodded once. “We’re different now.”

You both sat in the middle of what could have been a thousand versions of a future, the ghost of a relationship that once nearly bloomed clinging to the silence between you. There was still something about this moment that felt quiet and vulnerable. Standing in front of someone who had already seen you without your armor, and who now understood that you’d both grown around the absence.

And then, you felt it before you saw him. Yeong-chan approached slowly, with that familiar look of concern in his eyes. Without a word, he came up beside you and pressed a kiss to your temple. His hand found yours naturally, like it had always belonged there.

You turned to Yeong-chan with a small smile, squeezing his hand.

“This is Jun-ho,” you said, voice quiet. “An old friend.”

Jun-ho stood and extended his hand. Yeong-chan took it without hesitation.

“Thanks for being here,” Yeong-chan said, earnest and sincere.

Jun-ho gave a short nod. “Of course.”

It was all very civil. Very adult.

But when your eyes met Jun-ho’s again, you saw it. That flicker of something unsaid. It wasn’t regret nor desire. Just remembrance of who you used to be to each other, the timing that never aligned, the fact that you had once imagined a life where he would be the one standing beside you like this.

He gave you a faint smile then. “I’m glad you have someone,” he said softly. “Truly.”

You nodded. “Me too.”

And that was it. No dramatic goodbye. No lingering glances. Just the quiet understanding that some loves don’t disappear. They just settle beneath the surface, like echoes you learn to live with.

And as Yeong-chan led you away to check on your family, you didn’t look back. But you knew he was still watching.

It wasn’t because he wanted you back.

But because part of him always would.

——

The wake had thinned to whispers.

Jun-ho stood just outside the doors of the memorial hall now, the evening air pressing against his chest like a quiet hand. He hadn’t lit a cigarette in years, but his fingers twitched with the old instinct. Something about grief always brought back the habits he’d buried with the versions of himself he tried not to visit too often.

He looked down at his palm, still faintly warm from shaking your partner’s hand.

There hadn’t been malice in it. No marking of territory, no subtle flex. Just care. Gentle and steady, like a lighthouse light. The kind of affection Jun-ho remembered only in the way someone remembers the weight of a coat they gave away long ago.

You looked happy.

Or maybe not happy, exactly – but rooted. Like you had finally found a life that didn’t require you to keep waiting for someone to catch up to you.

The moment you’d broken down in In-ho’s arms earlier had caught him off-guard. The sight of you trembling, falling into someone else’s comfort, had made something old and aching stir in him. It wasn’t jealousy — just the helpless realization that he didn’t know how to hold you anymore. That maybe he never truly did.

He leaned back against the concrete wall, arms crossed, eyes tracing the lines in the sidewalk.

You’d both said what needed to be said. At least, in the language of people who still couldn’t speak plainly to each other.

“She’s still around.”

“I’ve got someone too.”

No names. No timelines. Just the exchange of truths dressed carefully, left open-ended but understood.

Jun-ho could still hear your voice. Still see the way you looked at him when you said, “I used to think we’d just fall back in.”

God, he had thought that too. For years, he’d imagined running into you in a bookstore, a crosswalk, a train station. and just picking up where you left off. As if time hadn’t dulled the edges, as if guilt and fear hadn’t wedged themselves between every sentence you used to share.

But when the real moment came, it didn’t feel like coming home. It felt like visiting the ruins of a house you’d once built together in the dark, only to realize someone else had long moved in and made it warmer.

Instead, he was the past now. A quiet part of your story that still echoed in certain chords, in the shared memory of a road trip, in a song you both forgot you loved.

He looked up toward the memorial hall doors one last time. You were inside, speaking softly to Yeong-chan, eyes tired but soft.

With one last look, he turned, shoved his hands in his coat pockets, and walked down the hall’s steps into the deepening dusk. No lingering. No second glance.

But even as he left, the memory of your voice stayed tucked just beneath his ribs.

“We’re different now.”

But some part of him would always remember the version of you he used to love, and the version of himself who had almost been ready.

————

|| REQUEST HERE ||

[makeitworse]

VICE

contains: dark themes. fem reader x junho. crushing on ur older brother figure. age gap. taboo / weird dynamic. suggestive. 18+

notes: requested. drabble / indent format :p

growing up, jun-ho was the boy next door. your neighbour’s kind-eyed, gentle voiced son. the youngest in his family, yet far older than you. he was supposed to just stay that.

your families were close; his mother, ms. park, often looked after you when your parents worked late hours. eventually that became routine— you had a seat saved at their dinner table each night. ms. park would fix you up lunch for the next day. there were even chores delegated to you.

jun-ho was someone you admired and trusted, and yet he always seemed just out of reach. there’d be nights after dinner where you were both curled up on the couch, stifling your laughter at some old classic playing on the tv— his mother having long gone to bed.

he’d turn to you with jokes, and you’d swat his shoulder with barely contained giggles. he’d never hold your gaze for more than a second. he’d let you touch him, but after he would inch away on the couch. you always noticed, of course. and you never got used to how it stung each time.

your ages were on opposite ends of the term “teenager”. you considered yourself grown, though— mentally at his level. it’s why you always challenged him. why you’d intentionally brush past him just to feel him freeze up. you always resisted the impulse to ask what his problem was.

you meet again later in life. since his family moved away, you hadn’t heard anything from jun-ho. it’s not like he was going to maintain a connection with a girl much younger than him anyways, when he was basically an adult— you see that, now that you’re grown too.

it’s like he never left— you clicked almost instantly, as if you grew up side-by-side, not knowing each other in intervals. he’s always seen you as part of his extended family. even now, he feels an obligation to protect you. and it makes his evolving feelings deeply unsettling to him.

despite your maturity, he’s finding it difficult to treat you like an equal. it irritates you that he’s still seeing just that “kid next door” he’d babysit on occasion. you try to balance showing him that you’re grown while reminding him that you’re not actually family.

and he knows this. you’re not related, but the history, the age gap— it’s an unspoken taboo. he was raised to respect you, not desire. his mother would disapprove. so would your parents. and that’s not out of law or morality; it just didn’t feel right.

in terms of your dynamic, jun-ho holds the emotional upper hand— he’s older, more experienced, used to being the one in control. you’re drawn to his discipline, but you tend to butt heads over your independence. you challenge his way of thinking. you make him second guess what he thought was fact.

tension builds unmistakably in every moment you spend together. quiet dinners, invading personal space, brushing touches and lingering gazes. once, you’d both had far too much to drink, and a there was a near-kiss incident. both of you pretended it didn’t happen.

yet, it very much did, and that tension festered in every following interaction. eventually, jun-ho gives in. he’s tired of running circles in his brain, justifying it, berating himself for considering it— rinse repeat.

your first true kiss is slow, hesitant. it happened one evening in his apartment. jun-ho had pulled you to him by the wrist without words, and taken your lips with his. it was deeply charged with unsaid words— and it was over as soon as it started. you both pulled away at the same time.

intimacy progressed slow and as sure as you were born. kisses were brief, hands never stayed long enough for the warmth to last. his every action was shadowed by doubt. jun-ho’s torn between desire and duty— wanting you and hating himself for it. you deserved someone your own age, someone you had genuine feelings for, not just some coming-of-age awakening.

your physical relationship remained stop-start— guilt on his behalf, bravery on yours. that sweet moment he finally touched you, it’s with the reverence of a man cursing every second of it. jun-ho’s hands were steady, practiced, but his breath bated. you felt like a kid again with how he could barely keep his eyes on you.

he whispered your name like a prayer and a warning— eyes dark with want and guilt, his forehead resting against yours as if proximity might absolve him. he murmured that he shouldn’t, but he does. it all floods to the surface. it’s not just lust, it’s surrender. the man beneath the badge.

jun-ho felt two clashing forces: what feels wrong and what feels real— because with you, he feels seen in a way no one else manages. he’s deeply protective of that, it borders on possessive— but he’s tactful at justifying it with logic and care.

because despite it all— he doesn’t want to see you with anyone else. he knows there’s no one else who can look after you how he can.

idk how i feel ab the quality of this LMFAO

tags: @lightinbug @sherrayyyyy @ferrarifinnick @namsgyu @riddlerloveb0t @loveesiren @ttturnitup @bcfcpsh @avsarchivez @frontwomann

[userluhna]

࿔⋆ CHILDHOOD

hwang junho x f!reader series

words: 2.9k

warnings: mention of death. grief. mention of childhood trauma. mentions of emotional shutdown. domestic violence (verbal, implied physical.). emotional abuse. parent abandonment. before squid game. a bit comfort at the end. inho as a big brother figure. platonic relationship. reader is minor. so is junho.

a/n: i’m back with this series!! took me so long to write this chapter. will definitely be writing more for this soon. hope you enjoy!

enjoy! :(

you were six when your mother left.

she didn’t take you. she took your older sister, who was already twelve. as far back as you can remember, you and your sister were close. really close. she used to tell you stories when your parents argued downstairs. helped you with your hair, helped you get dressed.

she did everything your mother didn’t. and when she left, when they both did, she didn’t say a word. your mother didn’t even look at you. they just walked out the door.

at first, your dad was calm. patient, even. sometimes, he said things that made you wonder if he blamed you. not directly. but close enough. over time, his voice sharpened. got louder. rougher. you were eight the first time it really scared you. you dropped a glass by accident. “come on! be fucking careful!” just loud. he didn’t help you clean it up.

the next time, it was a sock. a small one you had left on the couch. you didn’t mean to. you just forgot. he snapped again.“i’m not buying you more if you’re just gonna leave them everywhere.” he never hit you. but his voice did. sharp, like small punches. again and again.

by your last year of middle school, you met junho. he made a dumb joke in history class, and it made you laugh. just a little. just enough. just for you. after that, it became a thing.

he didn’t talk much. neither did you. but you had classes together, and you liked how quiet he could be. one afternoon, after school, you got home and realized you’d forgotten your socks on the couch. you’d taken them off the night before, your feet had felt too hot, too swollen. you meant to pick them up. you didn’t. and for some reason, that night, he was louder. angrier. his hand found your cheek. everything stopped. your ear rang. that was all you could hear. your father had never been this quiet after. he apologized. right after. and again. and again. his silence filled the house. heavy. you didn’t know if you liked that kind of quiet.

the next day, your ear still rang a little. your cheek was red. sore. junho found you in history class. he didn’t joke. didn’t say a thing. just sat beside you and studied your face, like he was trying to figure something out. when you looked at him, he looked away. the silence between you didn’t feel easy this time. so you broke it.

“no joke today?” you asked, your voice soft. he shook his head. “no. i don’t have one.” he said it quickly. too quickly. his eyes kept flicking toward you. you were already watching. your lips parted, maybe to explain. maybe to say what happened. maybe just—

“i’ve got one,” you said before the thought could finish. he nodded. “go on.” he told you. he laughed, a little giggle behind his hand. “you’re good at those,” he said gently. you smiled. after that, you grew closer.

at first, you went to his place for a group project. you didn’t stay long. but his house was warm. quiet too, but not like your house. his house had a soft kind of silence. you started going more. just to hang out. you talked more. about your dad. your mom. your sister. junho listened. one day, you cried. he held you. then one day, you met inho. you’d heard so much about him—

“my big brother once said—”

“inho helped me with this.”

“i should ask inho. he knows this stuff.” he was older. quieter. at first, you didn’t like him. he reminded you of the silence at home. but he always said hi. always asked junho how his day was. and every time you came over, he was there. once, you overheard him asking junho, “she’s here a lot, huh?”

not mean. just curious. “she lives with her dad. alone. he’s not great,” junho said. maybe he said more. maybe not. but the next time you saw inho, he asked, “how was your day?” not junho’s. yours. “it was okay,” you answered. your chest warmed.

he had seen you. he nodded. smiled a little. after that, you grew closer. slowly. small things. sometimes, when junho was in his room, or grabbing something, you and inho sat on the couch. he would read. sometimes his eyes found you. “you okay?” he asked one cold afternoon. you’d just walked in. your father hadn’t even looked at you. you nodded. slowly. he didn’t press.

his eyes returned to the page. your lips parted. “my father doesn’t talk.” you didn’t know why you said it. maybe you hoped he’d explain. he was older. maybe he’d know. junho knew everything already. he asked about the red cheek. you’d told him.

inho looked up, his eyes softer. “he used to yell,” you added. “a lot.” inho shifted himself toward you. he was listening. “sounds like you’ve had to be quiet for a long time.” his voice was soft. “you don’t have to be here.”

no speech. no lecture. just that. and it was enough. you smiled. “thanks, inho,” you said. “i think i like your quiet.” and god—it warmed his chest. but he just hummed. then junho came back.

your house was still quiet. not in the right ways. not when you ate alone. not when your dad muttered, “fucking leave me alone.” not when he whispered, “you’re worthless.” those were the only times he spoke. but somehow, the silence felt louder.

you spent your high school years with junho. of course you did. you found a place at inho’s apartment. so much time passed there, it felt like a second home. maybe your real one.

you loved inho’s quiet. it was warm. full of care. the hwangs reminded you you mattered— in small ways. “did you eat?”

“you sleep okay?” some days, you came crying after school. right after walking out of your house. neither of them pushed. inho offered warm soup. junho gave you his shoulder. “you’re okay,” he whispered once, brushing your hair. “always with me.”

then one day, your father asked to go to the beach. you didn’t know why. it wasn’t like him. he said he wanted to swim. asked you to come. you didn’t feel forced. honestly, you thought that maybe it’d be nice.

you wore a t-shirt and shorts. stood in the sand while he swam. he didn’t come back. someone called for help. his body stayed in the water. still. you didn’t move. you called junho. because that’s what you did now.

“hi,” he said, picking up. “you okay?” you didn’t speak. too quiet. his voice cut in again, firmer. “hey. y/n? where are you?”

“i’m at the beach,” you whispered. “my dad wanted to swim.” he could hear the wind. “junho,” you said, voice cracking, “can you come? please?”

“what’s going on?”

“please come.”

“which beach?”

“dongmak,” you said. you watched people move around. your father didn’t. “i’m coming,” he said. “with inho. we’re coming.” you heard keys. movement. junho breathing steady into the phone.

when they arrived, junho ran to you. you hadn’t moved. the ambulance was gone. so was your father. junho wrapped his arms around you. “i’m here. right here,” he whispered. “you’re so strong. so brave.” the drive back was long. quiet. too quiet. “can you put on some music?” you asked from the back seat.

inho nodded. junho put something on. soft. not loud. you didn’t cry. you didn’t know why. but you felt inho’s gaze through the mirror. that night, you stayed at their mom’s house. no one talked about it. the next few days moved fast. paperwork. legal stuff. too much.

one afternoon, you sat on junho’s couch. inho knelt in front of you, hand resting gently on your knee. “hey,” his voice was soft. “we need to talk about your guardian. just until you’re nineteen.” you nodded.

your fingers found the hem of junho’s hoodie. “are you okay with it being our mom?” inho had thought about stepping in. just two years. but it was complicated. messy. your lips parted. you hadn’t thought about being completely alone. “you don’t have to answer now,” he added. “but it’s your choice.”

“i’m okay with it,” you murmured. “it’s okay.” he nodded. stood up. his thumb brushed your knee. a quiet thank you.

the legal stuff went through. so did the money. since your parents were divorced and your mother couldn’t be found, it came to you. you moved into inho’s old room. not for long. he teased you about it. made you laugh. you spent your days with junho. watching movies. cooking. talking. or not talking.

you still spent time at inho’s too. you didn’t mourn your father long. not because you didn’t care. it was just complicated. he’d been sharp. brutal. then, gone. it felt strange. for months.

your sleep was lighter. junho’s mom always left tea for you in the mornings.

junho was quieter. not distant. just watching. you caught him looking at you in class, brows slightly furrowed. like he was checking to make sure you were really there. really okay. you weren’t. not fully. but you were breathing. sometimes, that was enough.

one morning, inho left a key on the kitchen table beside your tea. “in case you ever need somewhere quiet,” he said. you looked at him for a moment. then nodded. “thanks.”

one night, you stayed up late with junho. on the floor of his room. doing nothing. just being there. “do you ever think about her?” he asked. you didn’t need to ask who. you knew. “not in ways that make sense.”

“i don’t think she deserved to leave you,” he said. “she didn’t take me,” you murmured. “she took her.” you never said your sister’s name out loud. junho didn’t ask. he just reached for your hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “you’re here now,” he said. and just like that, everything felt softer. quieter. in a good way. it felt like home.

[whorelaud]

summary bsf!reader rides Jun-ho to take his mind off things, and make him forget all his pain and worries   warnings; smut, unprotected p in v, praise (?) 

"There you go," Jun-ho whispered, trailing chaste kisses to the blade of your shoulder, all whime muffling a whine out as you rolled your hips down, filling your soaked cunt with his throbbing length. 

You couldn't sit back and do nothing, watch while your friend was clearly struggling to get his mind off things, immediately continuing off the mission to find his brother the moment he regained consciousness; as he stirred out of the coma. 

Lust would take over, after you slyly, but hastily offered to distract him off his thoughts, the suggestion tempting him in a way, agitating new emotions inside him. Now, here you were, riding him as he pressed your hips down with the hands to your sides, struggling to hold himself back, and protect the barrier of your friendship. 

"Fuck, Jun-ho." You moaned through a breath, head finding the crook of his neck, burrying your nose in there as you took in the sensation of his musky scent, intoxicating your senses each time you took a whiff. "'That helps?"

"Yes, fuck, fuck, yes." Jun-ho replied through hooded eyes, desperately cupping one of your tits in his hands, and squeezing the plush flesh in between his fingers. His thumb rolled over your nipple, grunting as it hardens from the gesture, goosebumps immediately breakimg out across your chest. "Such a good girl, makin' me feel good, huh?" 

You hummed, fingernails digging to the skin around his shoulders, hard enough to leave bruises, and hell, did it drive you crazy, knowing the latter would be left with red marks freckled to his back. 

You clenched around him, thrusts growing sloppy as your climax built up, indicating you were close. Jun-ho took notice of the situation, tilting his head back as you tangled your digits through his locks, muffling out a mewl when his teeth grazed over your throat, planting a soft kiss afterwards to soothe away any pain. 

"Come for me, pretty girl." He hushed out, cock pulsing inside you, suddenly aware that this was you, his best friend, and no one else. The thought drove him over the edge, shooting up as he fucked you throw your orgasm, causing you tremble in his hold once you announced your own orgasm. 

Jun-ho painted your walls white with his cum, the warmness of his sperm filling up your insides. You relaxed in his arms, coming down from your high, your breathes heaving through the air.  

"Maybe we should do this often." Jun-ho whispered, stifling out a teasing laugh. 

"Mhm, maybe we should, friend." 

a/n i rushed this is so bad sorry 😣 wi ha joon is so fine tho my man 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

[myladyship]

Imagine discussing having a lot of children, and when you're pregnant with your first, you're super excited!

But when you give birth, you almost die. You could've died. The baby wouldn't have a mother. He would lose you forever.

It changes him, and it changes his view on everything regarding children.

He begs you not have any more children. That just one is enough. That he couldn't bear the thought that the next one you may not make it.