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[userluhna]

NEED more content of these two oh my—

[userluhna]

Since reader would hang out a lot with Junho and saw Inho as her big brother, it made me think, would the reader be close with Junho’s mom? Would she be like the mother she never had? What do you think she would think of reader and Junho being together?

(I love your work diva, pls don’t explode 🫶)

first, thank you so much for this :( ily sorry i took soooo long.

and YES OH MY GOD YES

࿔⋆ MOM?

this is part of this series

hwangjunho x f!reader

words: 1.2k

warnings: hurt comfort. healing. mention of grief. found family

enjoy! :)

because when inho asked you, “would it be okay if you stay here? with mom—” you nodded. maybe because you didn’t really have a choice, or maybe because it just felt right. on that first night, you slept in inho’s old bedroom. she had already changed the sheets—soft, clean, your favorite color.

and even if you were already old enough to not cry over sheets, it made you cry. just a little. just when it was quiet and dark and your thoughts were too loud. and junho, if he heard your sniffles from the other side of the door, he’d knock, then come in and hold you. not saying “you’re okay” because you weren’t. he would just hold you. like that was enough. the next morning, you found a glass of water waiting for you on the kitchen counter. a small note tucked beside it—not in junho’s neat handwriting, but hers.

“stay hydrated. it’s good for headaches.” even before everything. before the accident. before you were left alone. she left you little notes. because she cared, quietly. “leftovers for you. warm them up when you get home.”

“had too much dessert. take some with you.”

she always cooked too much—for you. she packed you lunch even when you said you weren’t hungry. refilled your water bottle before you left for school. and god, how gentle she was. the kind of gentle you never knew how to hold.

that first week living with her, she found you crying in the kitchen, barefoot in the middle of the night. she didn’t ask questions. didn’t crowd you. just stepped closer, slow, soft. “can i hold you?” she asked. she always asked—never just reached—because she didn’t want you to flinch. you nodded. and your head found her shoulder. one hand behind your head, the other tracing soft, steady lines down your back. she never shushed you. never told you to stop. just held you, quiet and warm, until the crying passed. “i’ve got you, okay? i’ve got you, sweet girl.”

she rocked you like that. slow. so slow it almost hurt. and even before that—before you lived there—she would always smile when she saw you. never asked, “are you okay?” but made you warm soup. never told you to go home when you lingered after dinner. always offered you a ride. always waited until you were inside. inho would drive you home most times. but sometimes, you just stayed over. sometimes it was easier. she told junho to be good to you.

“be patient. be careful. be quiet when she needs quiet. be loud when someone else is loud to her. hold her. let her cry.” even though he already was. even though he already did.

inho would come by on weekends—even weekdays, more than before. you’d hang out at his place, always checking with his wife that you weren’t intruding. but you never were.

your blanket was always tucked on the couch. your favorite mug in their cabinet. sometimes a new toothbrush waiting in the bathroom. and when she found out you and junho were together, she didn’t seem surprised. because that night—the first time junho saw you again—he called her on the way home.

“yeah. she’s back. just saw her.” he didn’t need to say who she was. because junho only used that soft voice for one person. he never told anyone about the times he saw you from across the street, but didn’t walk in. he didn’t know how you’d feel. but maybe she knew.

because when you left for england, he cried. not in front of you. not on the drive back. but later, alone in his room. maybe she heard the sobs through the door. but she didn’t say “love hurts.” she didn’t say “she’ll come back.” she brought him water. kissed his forehead. “cry as long as you need to, okay? i’ve got you, my boy.” junho cried every night for two whole weeks. not loud. not messy. just slow, soft tears that didn’t stop.

and last week, when you visited again—she made your favorite meal. set the table. hugged you like she hadn’t in years. brushed a hair from your face. smiled so big it almost made you cry. when junho said,

“eomma, we’re together.” she hugged you again. because she knew. she’d known from the way junho looked at you when he was sixteen. from the time he said, “nah, she doesn’t like that color,” while picking out your sheets.

she knew from that call two months ago. “she’s just—” and how he never finished the sentence. how the words never came because nothing was big enough to hold what he felt.

and before you left that day—before junho drove you home, before you unlocked your apartment door—she looked at her son and said, “you better be good to her, huh? she’s had enough. now she needs quiet. the good kind.”

and junho just nodded, that small, quiet smile tugging at his lips. and that night, on your couch, junho’s head in your lap, your fingers brushing through his hair—he showed you a text. from his mom.

“tell her i’ve got some leftovers. she can come pick them up after work.”

and you just knew—she was what you never had. the warmth of a mother.

tag list: @namgyucat @namsgyu @threerxcha

requests are open!

[userluhna]

MARRY ME

husband!hwangjunho x wife!reader

words: 670

warnings: none!

enjoy! :)

husband!junho, who can’t stop touching his wedding ring. he does it without thinking. during conversations, while he’s deep in thought, when he’s tired or worried. his left thumb always finds the ring. sometimes he spins it slowly, absently. other times he just brushes it with the pad of his thumb like he needs to remind himself it’s still there.

at the station, going through case files, pen tapping against the desk? his thumb is there, touching it. on the couch with you, his arm tucked around your waist, the other hand free—only so he can toy with the ring. you noticed. of course you did. and one night, you brought it up. “you always do that thing,” you said.

“hm?” he looked at you, his head turning slightly before his eyes followed. “that thing with your ring,” you motioned toward his left hand. “you’re always touching it.” his gaze dropped to his hand, then back to you, a slow smile blooming on his face. “oh, yeah,” he said. “grounds me. reminds me you’re never too far.”

husband!junho, who texted you just minutes before you walked down the aisle:

“i know you’re walking soon. probably heart pounding, yeah? mine too. but look up when you get there. you’ll see me. you’ll always see me. you look for me, angel. you’ll find me.

today. tomorrow. all of it.”

husband!junho, who didn’t write vows. not because he didn’t care, but because he didn’t need to. he looked at you and spoke from his heart. his voice was soft. steady. his eyes, not so much. glass-like. full. brimming with everything he couldn’t quite say until that moment.

husband!junho, who bought that ring on your first dating anniversary—because he already knew. fucking knew. but he waited. two more years. wanted the timing to be right. wanted you to say yes because you were ready, not just in love.

husband junho, who lives for the “my wife” line anytime someone flirts with him. “nice shirt,” someone says, too close, a hand brushing his arm.

“thanks,” he replies, smile subtle, “my wife picked it.” or at the front desk, when the receptionist leans in just a bit too much. “you have a really nice smile, detective.”

he grins. “yeah, my wife says it’s even better after she kisses me.” and he means it. every damn word.

husband!junho, who once told you:

“if i could, i’d marry you all over again. every year. every day. every version of us.” and when he said it—thumb brushing his ring again—you believed him. because he never stopped looking at you like you were the best decision he ever made.

masterlist

requests are open!

tag list: @namgyucat @namsgyu @threerxcha

[userluhna]

Cause you were all I looked up to

Now I can't even look at you

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me and every other dae-ho fan manifesting and demonstrating that he's not gonna die in season 3

[userluhna]

I can’t get over how this looks like a painting. Face card so lethal the photo looked like a painting.

[userluhna]

Dad gihun Oneshot before the Games where his child wants to sleep not in his bed but in appas cause there are no scary monsters? We neeed more happy kitten gihun Moments!

YES OF COURSE AAAAH—thank you for your request :(

MONSTERS IN MY BED

dad!gihun

words: 300

warnings: none? pure fluff

“appa…”

the small voice woke gihun, dragging him from sleep. he blinked at his phone: 2:34 am. he rubbed his face, sighing softly. “what is it now, huh?” his voice was rough, tired.

the boy stood in pajamas, clutching a stuffed animal, eyes glistening with tears. gihun sat up, voice softening, “hey, baby, what’s wrong?” the boy sniffled, not crying, as the dim hallway light caught the damp lashes on his cheeks. gihun got up and knelt beside him, hand brushing his hair back.

“bad dream?” gihun asked, voice gentle but worn. the boy nodded and clung to his neck. gihun scooped him up, holding him close. rocking him back to the bed, he whispered, “monsters again?” the boy nodded.

“okay, let’s scare them away,” gihun smiled faintly, though his eyes showed exhaustion—like he’d done this a hundred times before. but the boy shook his head, voice tiny: “appa… bed.” “alright, alright,” gihun chuckled quietly, laying him down and pulling the blanket over. the boy crawled close anyway.

gihun let out a soft laugh, tired but tender. “sleep well, buddy. i’m here.” he stayed still a moment longer, listening to the steady breathing, then closed his eyes, shoulders sagging. the weight of everything still there—but for now, safe.

masterlist

requests are open!

[userluhna]

actually got ideas for this series AHHHH!

also—if you’ve got any questions or things you want to see in this series, let me know below or in my inbox :)

take care y’all!!! mwah

[userluhna]

Ha-jun and Byung-hun waved at each other today and Ha-jun called him hyung 😭 MY HEART CANNOT TAKE THE CUTENESS

Wi Ha-jun, talking about Squid Game season 3: Let’s see if he (Jun-ho) can finally meet his brother

Interviewer: Even today, he’s (sitting) far from his brother

Wi Ha-jun: I know, right?! When will we finally meet? I miss him

Interviewer: Well, this wasn’t planned at all. Please, call him hyung once?

Wi Ha-jun @ Lee Byung-hun: Hyung 👋🏻🥹

(Source)

[userluhna]

THE HWANG BROTHERS

Lee Byung-hun and Wi Ha-jun for Squid Game season 3 ♡

[userluhna]

this man is UNREAL OKAY

[userluhna]

Hi :)

Can i request an In-Ho as a dad os setting before he disappears- his toddler daughter gets a gift from Jun-ho and is totally afraid of it - could be one of those baby dolls that cry ? And she is searching for protection or tell In ho to get ride of the scary toy while our poor cinnamon roll jun-ho is sad that his gift is causing an poor scared girl ?

HIIII !! <3

just posted it :)

just here

[userluhna]

࿔⋆ THE DOLL

hwang brothers

based on this request

words: 490

warnings: none! pure fluff.

enjoy! :)

it was just a small gift.

like junho used to do since the day she was born, because that’s how he loved her. at first, she liked it—because there were no pills in it. just a babydoll like any other. but then inho added the battery, because he noticed the little slot for it. “there you go, baby,” he said, handing it back to her.

but then the doll cried. and his little girl—she got scared. a little “uh!” kind of scared. she dropped it right away, startled. “oh, it’s okay,” inho kneeled beside her, brushing her hair from her face. “it’s alright, little one.”

but she had that look again. the pout. the one she always got right before crying—crying hard. and she did. loud sobs, a sharp scream, straight for her appa. inho’s arm came around her, his hand at the back of her head, pulling her close to his chest.

“scary, huh?” he whispered, kissing her temple. he smiled a little—not mocking. never like that. just surprised that this was the thing that scared her. he lifted her, holding her close, rocking her gently to calm the cries. his eyes went to the doll. poor junho.

“appa, hide. please.” her voice was shaky, the sobs still catching. his hand kept smoothing down her hair, slow and steady. he nodded. “yes, baby girl. we’re gonna hide that.” and he did. after she fell asleep for her nap, he took the battery out and tucked the doll deep into the closet.

it was only a few days later that junho found out.

he was looking around when he asked, “did you like the doll?” and when his niece looked at him like he had just brought up a traumatic event (which, for her, it was), junho glanced over at inho, confused.

“we had to hide it,” inho said, with that little smile—the kind that said you’re gonna feel worse about this than you should. “it cries. and she got scared.”

junho’s eyes drifted down to the little girl standing in front of him. his whole face shifted. his mouth turned into a pout, already on the edge of apology. “oh, i’m so sorry, baby,” he said, opening his arms from where he was sitting on the floor.

he looked like he might cry too, just from scaring her. and she—she ran to him, hugging tight as she could, her little fingers gripping his shirt. he exhaled slowly, wrapping her in his arms. “i’m so sorry,” he whispered, kissing her cheek. his hand moved gently down her back, the way inho did.

“uncle junho has to be better at gifts, huh?” she nodded, serious. he chuckled, a soft little sound that hurt just a bit. playful, but a little wounded.

later, when it was just the two brothers, junho looked away for a second, then said,

“it fucking cries? ” inho chuckled and nodded. “yes it does.”

“oh please.”

masterlist

requests are open!

tag list: @namgyucat @namsgyu @threerxcha

[userluhna]

DON’T 🫵

bro what did these two see AAAAH

[userluhna]

bro what did these two see AAAAH

[userluhna]

just hit 100 followers yaaay!!!

[userluhna]

do some of y’all actually want me to continue this series or—

i love it but i’m soo slow at writing it because i don’t have any ideas