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labelneo · 1 month ago

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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 when he kisses you, he kisses you 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 has 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 his chest behind you, you run your hand against his chest, and Junho doesnt 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.”

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

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thesquidgame · 1 month ago

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Calm Before the Storm

Hwang Jun-ho x wife!reader

Summary: After your husband's disappearance, he starts to act different.

Warning: Angst, disappearance, gunshot wound, head injury, hospitals, mention of death, marital conflict, mention of divorce, guns

6k words

The worst day of your life happened after one of your husband’s work trips. He said that his team had gotten a lead on what might have happened to his brother and that he had to investigate. That was par for the course, every couple months there would be another potential lead on where your brother-in-law could be, but every couple months Jun-ho would be sorely disappointed.

This time was different. He said he would be gone for a couple of days, and that he didn’t know if he would be able to get in contact. He left for one day, and then two, then more. His department panicked, apparently, it wasn’t a work trip and one of their detectives went missing. After a week his picture was on the nightly news, and after 10 days you were doing interviews begging for anyone who had any information to step forward. His mother came to sleep at your apartment, and she said she just wanted to help out with her daughter-in-law, but you could hear her sobs in the middle of the night through the thin walls between your bedroom and the guest room.

At 5 AM, a week after Jun-ho’s disappearance, you got a call. They had found him. He was in a specialized emergency hospital on the outskirts of Seoul, and he was in a coma. You rushed to your car with your mother-in-law and broke speed limits that Jun-ho would never let you break when he was in the car with you.

The hospital parking lot was nearly empty. The lobby was quiet when you walked in, and the front desk woman almost looked shocked when she saw two women with deep circles under their eyes and hair sticking in every direction. Honestly, you couldn’t care less. She was the receptionist at a hospital, if that was the craziest thing she’d seen she was in for a rude awakening when an actual patient came up to her desk.

She quickly directed you to his hotel room, on the 3rd floor, where his supervisor was already waiting. Time seemed to slow down as you rode the elevator. It couldn’t have taken longer than 20 seconds, but it felt like years. What if he was dying? What if he didn’t wake up? What if he was getting worse? Your thoughts kept racing, and you and Jun-ho’s mother couldn’t share a single word between the two of you between all of the panic going on inside your heads.

The floor was so quiet you could hear the squeak of a nurse’s shoes down the hallway. You should’ve run to your husband's bedside, but you couldn’t. You took one step at a time, terrified of what might await you. His supervisor stepped out the door and closed it. He looked at you with tired eyes. “Mrs. Hwang, Mrs. Park, I’m glad you could make it.”

“How’s my husband?” Formalities could wait. Formalities could go to hell.

He sighed, and your heart skipped several beats. “How is he?!” Jun-ho’s mother yelled.

“He’s okay, he seems to be mostly stable, but I-” He raised his hand and scratched the back of his head, looking away at the ground, “I gotta be honest. He’s not great. He was shot and fell from a high distance into water. He passed out in the water and the doctors think he breathed in water and fell unconscious. They’re not sure of the extent of brain damage because he hasn’t woken up, but the lack of oxygen to his brain likely caused some sort of impact. There’s more, but they would only tell me the basics because I’m not family.”

You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t think. What if he didn’t wake up? What if he did and he wasn’t the same? Memories of the last night you spent together raced through your head. It had been a long exhausting day, and he somehow knew how terrible it had been. He brought takeout home and made an extra stop to get your favorite dessert from a bakery. He set the food down on the kitchen table and immediately made his way to you on the couch, leaned down, and kissed you until you needed to come up for air. You turned off the tv and sat on the couch for hours, eating and talking and eventually fucking. Right before you went to bed he told you that he was going on the trip tomorrow, and you just smiled and nodded, thinking it was going to be like all the other times.

You pushed past the sergeant and walked into your husband’s room. His bed was separated from an empty one by a curtain. You couldn’t feel your own feet as you walked towards it, and it almost felt like your hand wasn’t moving at all when you pushed past the curtain.

Jun-ho looked like death. There was a tube shoved in his throat and his skin was so pale it looked translucent, the blue of his veins showing through on his arm next to an IV. The circles under his eyes were deep and dark, and he was in a neck brace, with his head bandaged.

It felt like all the air had been sucked out of your lungs. The second his mother saw him, she collapsed at his side and laid her body over his legs. Her cries were guttural and came from something that must’ve broken inside of her. “My baby, my baby. I lost one son, I’ll die if I lose another.”

You couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t cry. You sunk to a chair at his side and reached out for his hand. He was so cold. His skin felt like he had just been taken out of the ocean minutes before, and his heart rate was so slow it felt like it was second between beats.

You didn’t hear the doctor come into the room until he spoke. Jun-ho’s mother looked up and stared at him like he was an angel, but you couldn’t look away from your husband’s unmoving body.

“Mrs. Hwang, can I talk to you about your husband’s condition?” You didn’t move, his mother had to beg the doctor to continue speaking. “He was shot in his left shoulder, luckily the bullet didn’t hit any vital organs, but because of the time between the injury and his arrival at the hospital, he lost a significant amount of blood. We think he hit the water head-first, and the impact caused his neck to break, luckily, there was no spinal cord damage. We induced him into a coma once he reached the hospital, so unfortunately we aren’t able to tell the extent of the damage unless he wakes.”

Your mother and law stood up “Unless? What do you mean by unless?!” she screamed. “My son is not going to die, do you hear me?!”

You felt broken, Jun-ho had to wake up, he had to. You didn’t care if he couldn’t walk, or speak, but he had to wake up.

You could hear fists banging against the doctor’s chest, but you didn’t turn around. Just kept staring at your husband’s pale face, and pale hands.

The hospital had apparently received a large grant during COVID to expand, and when the pandemic had died down they became designated only for acute emergency cases and recovery care, and many rooms were kept vacant. The staff let you stay in the other bed in his room, and there was a shower attached to the room, designed for patients in long-term recovery and their family members. The hospital had a small cafeteria that made shockingly delicious Korean food, and they delivered the meals to the room three times a day. Before long, you became used to the tired routine of late-night check-ups and tired smiles from the nurses urging you to go home and rest. You were terrified that if you left the hospital Jun-ho would die before you could get back, but you couldn’t tell the nurses that. You just told the nurses that your house was far away and it was more convenient to stay at the hospital as opposed to making the commute or getting a hotel room.

It was three weeks before Jun-ho moved. In that time, you hadn’t left the hospital once. He squeezed your hand while you were holding it, and at first, you thought you imagined it. You called the doctor, and she said she would keep an eye on it, but not to get your hopes up- apparently twitching was normal in coma patients. Several hours later you felt the squeeze again, and when you looked up, you saw Jun-ho’s eyes open the slightest bit.

It was like a month’s worth of fear and pain cascaded over in a heartbeat, and you collapsed on his chest in broken sobs, staring up at your husband. His mother was there, and she leaned over at him, pleading his name. He stared at you for as long as he could, until his eyes closed again, his eyelids twitching like he wanted them to stay open. Once his eyes closed your hand was still holding his in a tight grip, and you reached open to press the button again.

In the next couple of days, he went in and out of consciousness at increasing intervals. The first moment where you felt like you could breathe again came a week after he first squeezed your hand, when you awoke from sleeping laying on his lap while you sat in the chair to the sound of gagging. You heard his heartbeat increase and saw his throat convulse and his eyes flash open as he fought his breathing tube.

You immediately pressed the call button for the nurse, and when they took too long you went out into the hallway and screamed for a nurse. There were only a couple of patients on his hall, and they could go screw themselves if they thought their sleep was more important than your husband's choking. The nurse and doctor came running and closed the door on you. Within a couple of minutes the nurse opened the door, and let you step inside. The doctor tried to talk to you, but you couldn’t hear anything she was saying as you walked past her toward your husband’s side.

“Baby,” Jun-ho whispered. His voice was hoarse and broken, and you could feel tears streaming down your face.

“Honey, you’re- you’re here.” You cried more and more, and he painfully reached his arm up to you.

“It’s okay (y/n), I was never going anywhere, I’m here.” You tucked your head into his neck and sobbed into his hospital gown.

He stroked your hair slowly until his hand rested on the back of your head. You looked up to see that he had fallen back asleep, exhausted from the ordeal of choking on his breathing tube. You pressed a kiss to his cheek, wet from a single tear rolling down his face, and tucked your head back down to fall asleep again.

You woke up to a nurse gently shaking you away, informing you that you had to sleep in the other bed to prevent infection. You wanted to fight her for doing her job, but obliged. You fell back asleep quickly, too tired to stay awake because of the crying you had just finished doing.

“(Y/n).” You awoke to a quiet voice, blinking your eyes because of the bright sunlight streaming through the window. You immediately looked over at Jun-ho to see your fiance with his head turned looking at you.

“Jun-ho.” You stood up, stumbling out of bed in the clothes you had to have been wearing for at least a couple of days before now, and went over to kiss him on the lips, the same way he had the last time you had seen him before he went missing. He reciprocated with more force than you thought someone who hadn’t moved any part of his body in a month could.

“I missed you so much honey, I couldn’t breathe for so long.” He smiled and wiped a tear off of your face.

“I know baby, but I’m here now, I’m here.” He looked at you with so much love and life in his eyes, exactly what you had been missing for the past month.

“I was so scared Jun-ho, first I couldn’t find you, and then once I did I- I wasn’t sure.” You paused, another tear streaming down your face. “I wasn’t sure you would make it.” You whispered.

“I know (y/n), and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“You- you got shot. You fell from really high into the water far out in the ocean. You have no idea how scared I was.”

His brow furrowed painfully before he suddenly pulled his head back and winced. “Jun-ho, Jun-ho? Are you okay?!”

You frantically pushed the call button and within seconds there was a team of doctors and nurses entering the room. They slowed slightly when they saw the scene in front of them, and quickly determined there was no immediate danger, and quickly began examining him and asking you both questions. Once the rest of the group left, Jun-ho’s main doctor sat in a chair to explain the situation to the both of you.

She explained what the team had seen when they had checked Jun-ho over, and explained the need for another set of scans to ensure there was no serious brain injury. “We also will need to call the police back to the hospital, because of the gunshot wound.”

Jun-ho froze, and his back grew stiff. “Baby, what’s wrong?” You rested your hand in his grip, tightening it around his.

“Nothing’s wrong, just nervous about the tests.” He squeezed your hand back and smiled up at you at your position sitting next to him on the bed. His body remained stiff, and your brow furrowed in confusion. He was likely traumatized and in pain, both physically and mentally.

Once the doctor left, you apprehensively asked him “Honey, I know you probably don’t want to talk about it, but… What happened when you were gone, with the fall, and the gunshot wound?”

He looked away from you and glanced out the window. He paused, “I don’t know. I don’t remember what happened.”

You leaned in and squeezed his hand again. “It’s okay if you do, I just want to help you.”

He remained looking out the window, until he looked back at you, something tight across his eyes. “I really don’t know, can we please talk about something else. I’m going to get enough of that from my coworkers later anyways.” He laughed, but the tightness across his face remained the same.

Smiling a similar tight smile, you squeezed his hand back. “Okay. Just, let me know if you remember anything.”

“Now, is there anything I can do to help you?”

“Jun-ho, I’m not the one who just woke up from a coma, that’s my line!” Jun-ho smiled a real smile, and you copied him, smiling your first genuine smile in weeks.

After the tests, you wheeled Jun-ho in a wheelchair back into his hospital room, where you were greeted by his boss sitting in your usual chair next to his bedside. He stood up to greet you, “Detective! It’s so good to see you awake again!” He bowed to Jun-ho, and your husband nodded his head in return.

“I’m sorry to bother you, but do you think we could do the interview now? Just so we don’t get more in the way of you and your lovely wife.” He smiled, but there was anxiety furrowing his brow. He was clearly using many tactics that you watched Jun-ho explain that the police force used on victims and their families.

Jun-ho smiled back, “of course.” He looked up at you and smiled a similar tight smile towards you. “Honey, do you think you could go and get some coffee from downstairs for us?”

You nodded, unsure of what to do as you could clearly tell that the coffee run was just an excuse to get you out of the room. “Of course.” There wasn’t anything you could do about it, and confronting your husband about something he is clearly not ready to talk about would certainly not be a solution. “Officer, would you like me to get you anything?”

He waved you off and you hesitantly exited the room to go downstairs.

Due to the emptiness of the hospital, it didn’t take you long to go down to the cafeteria, pick up some coffee for you and Jun-ho, and come back upstairs. When you reached the floor that the room was on, you hesitated, noticing that the door was cracked and the sounds of him and his boss were still quietly filtering out into the hallway.

You debated for a second staying and eavesdropping, but your moral compass won out in the end. Whatever it was, Jun-ho was clearly not ready to tell you. You didn’t want to betray his trust, and eventually, he would share it with you. The two of you had no secrets between you. If there ever was a night when Jun-ho would have to stay later at work, or was suddenly asked to hang out by his friends, he would call you immediately and tell you what was going on and when he would probably be home. Not that you necessarily needed him to, you trusted him, but he insisted that he never wanted you to worry after him. You did the same in turn, even though your job was far less demanding than his and plans came up far less sporadically for you than they did for him.

As you walked away, you heard a sliver of the conversation “hundreds… shot.” It made you pause in your step. You must’ve misheard. Maybe he had said something else. Maybe you were too sleep-deprived and stressed to think clearly. Still, you turned those words around in your head as you sat in a chair in the hallway next to the nurse’s station.

If you hadn’t misheard- if; what would it mean? Did Jun-ho have a brain injury that didn’t turn up on scans that makes him misremember what happened? Or- or was he telling the truth? Your husband wasn’t a liar, he was the perfect detective because of his strict moral compass, so that must mean… That must mean that if there was no brain injury, and if you didn’t mishear, wherever Jun-ho was he had watched hundreds of people die.

You heard a knock on the doorframe, “Mrs. Hwang, we’re done with the interview.”

You stood up and walked toward the door when the other detective put his hand on your shoulder while his face grimaced. “I hope everything works out well for the two of you, I really do.” With that foreboding line of encouragement, he walked past you and towards the elevator.

When you entered the room, Jun-ho smiled at you. “(Y/n).” You walked towards him and kissed his forehead, handing him the cup of coffee.

Kissing his forehead, you asked, “How did it go? Are you alright?”

Jun-ho’s brow creased, but he smiled back at you still. “It went well, I just told him that I didn’t know anything.”

That didn’t make sense. You had to have been gone for at least 20 minutes, there was no way those 15 minutes were filled with the other detective asking questions that your husband kept saying no to.

“I’ll have to go into the station later on after I’m discharged and give a longer more formal statement, but for now they’ll leave us alone.”

“Great, I’m glad to have you all to myself.” You leaned over and kissed him on the lips again. You trusted him, and whatever it was that he wasn’t telling you, he would open up about soon.

He didn’t. After another 2 weeks, the hospital was completely sure there were no long-standing effects. Besides having to regularly come in for check-ups and to carefully not hurt the shoulder where he was shot, miraculously there were no other serious effects.

You had finally gone back into the apartment after he woke up, although you weren’t happy about going back when it was lifeless due to Jun-ho’s absence. By the time he was discharged, the apartment was dust-free, and you made sure that everything was the same as it had been when he had first gone missing.

In the past couple of weeks, Jun-ho had been too calm. He was casual about just about everything. He was smiling, and making jokes, like nothing had ever happened. But, underneath it all, you could tell something was different. When you’ve been with someone for so long, had exchanged wedding vows, and slept in the same bed for years, you just knew them. You knew your husband, and something was off about him. He refused to go to sleep in the hospital room with the door open, and every time you came or went he would make you close the door behind you. He insisted that you spent the night in the hotel room with him (not that you were complaining) even when he was far out of the danger zone. On the car ride home from the hospital he would check the mirrors every time he thought you weren’t looking.

There was something completely off about him, he seemed paranoid, and for the first time in your relationship besides his brother’s disappearance- scared. But every time you would ask him what was wrong, he would just smile and say “I’m alright, just adjusting.”

You carried all of your stuff to the apartment, insisting on doing so even though your stubborn husband wanted to carry luggage even with a bullet recently being removed from his shoulder. But, when you left the elevator and were about to go into the apartment, he stopped you by putting his hand out.

“Baby, I just want to get inside. This is heavy.” You complained.

“I know, just- just give me a minute. I want to check something.” He silently turned the key to your small apartment, took off both his shoes, and stepped inside. He pulled up his pant leg slightly and took out a gun that you didn’t even notice was there.

“Jun-ho!”

He turned back to you and put his finger to his lips, shushing you. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

He closed the door behind him, and you stood there shocked. You knew something was wrong, but you didn’t expect him to take out a gun and search your home.

In a couple of minutes, he came back out. “What the hell Jun-ho? What was that!”

“It was nothing, I’m sorry.” He put the gun back away.

“Why would you search our house? You’ve never done that before. Seriously Jun-ho, what’s going on?” You shouted, exasperated by him saying one thing and acting in a completely opposite way.

“It’s nothing.” He sighed, “I’m sorry (y/n), I’m just scared. It’s been a while since I’ve been out of the hospital, so I’m nervous.” He leaned in and gave you a hug, which you reciprocated. But still, that wasn’t the whole truth.

“I think you should see someone Jun-ho, this isn’t normal.” You said into your husband’s chest.

“(Y/n), I’m fine. I promise.” You leaned your head up and kissed him again.

The first week back was difficult. Jun-ho seemed terrified of just about everything around him. The both of you barely left the house, and when you did his hand held yours in a tight grip.

Your job had given you an extended leave to take care of Jun-ho, but your leave was ending in a few weeks once the two-month mark passed.

You were laying in bed one night, Jun-ho tracing circles on your shoulder as you spooned after making love. “Jun-ho, I’m worried about you.”

He kissed your shoulder, “what about?” He said casually.

You rolled over to face him. “About everything, you’ve been so scared and stressed. I don’t know what’s going to happen once I go back to work.”

He propped his head on his hand as he laid on his side, “I know, I’m sorry. I’m starting to feel better. I’m sorry I’ve been so paranoid lately.”

You sighed, “I want you to see someone Jun-ho. I don’t want this to fester and fester.”

He sighed, “I know (y/n), I promise it’ll get better soon. I talked to the chief today, I’ll go back to work next week.”

You shot up in bed, “two weeks? Babe, that isn’t nearly enough time. You still can’t lift anything heavier than a paper clip with your left arm.”

Jun-ho reached back towards you and stroked your arm. “Well good thing I’m right-handed.” He smirked.

Tilting your head, you just looked back at your husband anxiously. “Jun-ho this is serious. You aren’t ready to go back to work.”

“(Y/n), please trust me. This will all be over soon, okay?” He looked at you pleadingly. He didn’t want you to drop it or ignore it, he wanted you to- trust him? There was a secret, but he clearly didn’t want you to know it, and just to wait.

Sighing, you said, “Okay, I’ll wait.” You didn’t know what else to say. You couldn’t make him tell you the truth, and he wanted you to not push it. There was nothing to do. “But I really want you to talk to someone.”

He leaned in to kiss you, and right before he touched your lips, he said “Okay, I will; for you.” Then he closed the distance and kissed you until you needed to come up for air.

Your house was quieter after you both went back to work. When Jun-ho came home from work he would make his way next to you on the couch, lay down, and put his head on your lap. It was nice at first, after so much stress you could simply relax and enjoy each other's company.

Soon after getting home, he would get tired. Sometimes falling asleep on your lap.

After a month of him getting back to work, you were exhausted from the silence. It became oppressive. You grew tired of the same routine, and how your husband never quite grew less paranoid. He became better at hiding it, attaching cameras and extra locks around your house under the guise of burglaries in the building that you had never heard of. He would stand up from his crouch install the locks and wrap his arms around you, kissing you and telling you that he just wanted you to be safe.

Before his accident, he would wake up every morning and make breakfast for the both of you, insisting that it was the most important meal of the day. After the accident, he started to make lunch as well, and whenever you suggested that you go out for dinner, he smiled and told you that he enjoyed your cooking so much more.

Then, after 3 months, he came home completely exhausted. It was later than usual, and you stayed up late to greet him, completely concerned by his lack of response to any of your texts. “Jun-ho, where the hell were you? Are you okay?!” You ran up to him as soon as he opened the door, looking him up and down for any injuries.

“No, I’m fine.” He smiled a lopsided and insincere smile at you. He smelled like alcohol.

“Were you drinking?” You demanded.

“Me and my coworkers went out for a couple of bottles of soju after work, nothing much.” He shook off his shoes and went to hug you.

You pulled away, “why didn’t you tell me? We always tell each other these things.”

“Baby, I had a long, long day, let’s not do this right now.”

“No, we have to do this right now, what happened? You’ve been so strange lately, and you never went to talk to someone like you said you would.” You paused, tears beginning to well up in your eyes, “I’m really concerned for you. I want you to get tested for PTSD.”

He stepped closer to you, “I don’t have PTSD, I just had a long day.” You didn’t move. He sighed, “(Y/n), please, I’m exhausted. Can we do this tomorrow?”

You didn’t say anything but didn’t move when he closed the distance between you to pull you into a tight hug. You finally reciprocated, pulling him closer, when you heard silent sniffling from next to your ear. In a heartbeat, you felt a drop of wetness on your shoulder.

The next day, Jun-ho quit being a detective. After he started crying, he pretended like nothing had happened, got silent, and took a shower before going to bed. You barely spoke another word the rest of the night, but after he thought you went to sleep you could feel him trace circles on your shoulder.

He told you as soon as he got home that being a detective was too much work for him after the accident, and he tired more easily, but you didn’t buy it for a second.

“Jun-ho, you love your job, why would you quit? Do you want to go back on leave?” You pleaded at your husband.

He smiled back at you, “Of course I love my job, it’s only temporary.” And he leaned in to kiss you on the lips.

Temporary. Although your better judgment told you otherwise, you put all your faith in that one little word. Temporary, this, like everything else making your husband act so different, would pass.

Jun-ho came home late the next day. Then the next. The first you waited up for him, sitting at the dinner table, your food growing cold. When your husband came in, he didn’t smell like alcohol, he simply kissed you on the forehead and sat down across from you, not confronting his tardiness. You cried yourself to sleep that night, with your husband laying stiff as a board next to you, unsure of what to do.

The next night, when he was late, you didn’t bother to wake up. You left his food in the fridge and went to bed early, tears streaming down your face. You were still awake when he came into bed but pretended to be asleep. You could feel the bed shaking from his silent sobs.

The next month went on in the same way, with the only escape from the monotony of your miserable silence being Jun-ho’s one day off. On that one day, you would pretend that you didn’t have any problems, that you were a normal couple who would go walking through the cherry trees and go out drinking together late at night. You went on a double date with one of your coworkers and her husband and sat awkwardly through one of their arguments. It wasn’t the same, but having some bit of refuge away from your stress was a lifesaver.

But even that changed. One day, you decided to go kayaking out in the bay, and while you were out in the water, Jun-ho stopped for a minute. There was a gap in your conversation, and during it, your husband stopped paddling.

“Babe, are you alright?”

He looked up at you as if startled. “Yeah, I’m alright.” He paused, “Would it be okay if we went back, I need to do something important.”

“Um, yeah sure. What is it?” You hesitantly asked.

“It’s nothing, don’t worry about it.” Your face sank. Every question you asked your husband ended with him saying ‘It’s nothing,’ no matter how big of a deal it likely was.

A couple of days later, when your husband came home late again, he told you that he would be busy on his day off and that a friend of his needed help on his boat. You just smiled and nodded, because what else could you really do?

Then he was busy the next weekend, and then the next, and the next. You only really saw your husband for a couple of minutes in the morning, and a couple of minutes in the night. Sometimes, you were able to make time. Sometimes, you would go out for a nice dinner, or go out to a friend’s party for the holidays. On your birthday he took the whole day off work and planned every single thing you would do all day. He made breakfast, took you shopping in the morning, went out to a nice lunch, took you out to the countryside to the ocean, and bought you lunch in your favorite tiny spot next to the shore. It was like for just 24 hours you had your husband back.

But other than that, it was like living with a ghost. He got more and more stressed over time. He smiled the same amount, but even with taking a demotion to a regular cop, he was getting worse and worse over time. He felt tenser, and more on edge than he had ever been before.

Every night you would fall asleep crying, you became used to waking up with a wet pillow or having to look at your puffy eyes when you wiped the condensation off the mirror after crying in the shower. Whenever Jun-ho saw the tears, whether you were laying in bed or cooking dinner on one of the rare nights that he came home early would wrap you in a hug from behind, and say, “I’m so sorry honey, I promise this will pass.”

And you would plead, “Please honey, please, just tell me what’s happening, please be here more.”

And he would press his head into your back and whisper, “I can’t, I’m sorry. I love you.”

Your hopes would drop all over again, “I love you too.”

It was three years before anything changed. You would constantly beg him to do anything, to see someone, to talk to you, to do anything. Your friends asked you if he was cheating, but you knew he wasn’t. You knew, somehow that whatever was happening, was big, and important. And that it was eating you and your husband alive.

You didn’t see him for three days. He answered all of your texts with “Just something for work, I’ll be home soon. I love you.” Nothing else. No explanation for anything.

You slept on the couch and stayed there when you were awake, racked with anxiety. When he finally came home you sat there staring straight ahead. He didn’t speak.

You had pictured a fight, a confrontation. You had begged and pleaded, with tears in your eyes before. But nothing had happened. And after almost four years, you didn’t have any energy left.

“I want a divorce.” You surprised yourself with the words.

You looked up at him, and he stood there, his expression unreadable.

“If you can’t tell me what the hell is going on, tomorrow I’m going to a lawyer.”

He stumbled toward you and dropped to his knees in front of you, “(Y/n), please. You just have to trust me. This, this’ll all be over soon. I know I’ve said it before, but this time I mean it, soon it’ll be just like before.”

You looked into your husband’s eyes which were beginning to fill with tears. “I don’t believe you.”

“Baby, please. I can’t tell you, I really can’t.” His head dropped, breaking eye contact as you saw a tear fall down to reach the floor. He whispered, “If- if you know the truth, I don’t know what’ll happen to you. And I can’t risk that. I- I’ve risked everything else. But I can’t risk you.”

You couldn’t cry, your tears were all dried up. You should be shocked by what he was saying, but your mind went back to what you heard him say from outside that hospital room years ago “Hundreds… Shot.”

“I know, I’ve known. I know that you remember, and I know that it’s related to when you went missing. I just need you to trust me. I can’t do this anymore.”

He looks up at you, grabbing your hands and wrapping his around yours. “I know, I’m so sorry, but I need you to just wait a little bit longer-”

You stood up. “I think you should leave.”

“(Y/n), please.”

You walked away from him, towards your bedroom. “(Y/n), I love you.”

“I love you.” And then you heard the door shut.

As you lay in bed, you couldn’t help but feel empty, like your heart had been torn out of your chest. The brutal calm you had been through was over, but storm had just begun.

Part two will be out with the next season, stay tuned for more!

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burningembers91 · 1 month ago

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Sleeping With the Enemy - Hwang Jun-Ho x Fem!Reader (NSFW)

Synopsis: tasked with taking down the most ruthless gangster in Seoul, Hwang Jun-Ho didn’t know he’d fall for his target’s wife in the process.

Please note that this storyline will deal with situations depicting domestic violence.

A/N: Did I come up with this idea at 1am when I couldn’t sleep? Yes. Did I also get up at 5am to write it as it was etched into my brain? Yes. Am I very tired? Also, yes. But this storyline is gonna be juicy as heck.

It was you who called the police. You, who in your wedding vows had sworn to love and protect you husband, just has he had sworn the same. He hadn’t bothered to keep his promise though, so why should you? The man you married was a ruthless tyrant, taking whatever he wanted with little regard for the devastation his actions caused. The police had been after him for years, desperate to catch the ruthless gangster who tormented the good people of Seoul. You’d be so young when you married him, swept up in the glitz and glamour of the high life he showed you. He’d promised you the world; you just hadn’t realised it would come at a cost.

You weren’t sure you’d ever loved your husband, and you knew he’d never loved you. You were an accessory on his arm, something necessary to bring along to meetings and parties, adorning you in the highest quality clothes and shoes for his colleagues and competitors to admire. He’d started hitting you shortly after your wedding, started showing his real colours when he was confident you couldn’t escape. You’d spent years cowering in his shadow, meekly accepting the designer gifts he bestowed upon you as an apology for treating you like dirt. You weren’t living anymore; you were simply existing.

Hwang Jun-Ho was assigned to your case, tasked with keeping the beautiful wife of the city’s most dangerous gangster safe. He’d been warned that you couldn’t be trusted; that this whole thing could be nothing more than a ploy to send the police off chasing their tails. But Jun-Ho knew from the moment he met you that you weren’t doing your husband’s bidding. You were stunning, dressed in Dior, Prada and dripping in Cartier diamonds. But those high end brands couldn’t mask the fear in your eyes. Just like the makeup couldn’t mask the bruises on your face. At first, he’d been sure this case would be the one he needed to skyrocket him to greater things. But one meeting with you and the boost this would give to his career was no longer his priority; you were. He’d been in this job for long enough that not much fazed him, but your stories had kept him up at night. Tales of your husband’s beatings, his drug deals, his human trafficking, Jun-Ho wondered how you’d endured it all. How you’d kept your wits and sanity while married to the devil himself.

He tried to keep things professional, tried to keep a distance, but you pulled him in like a moth to a flame. You were so fragile and yet so strong, so beautiful, so meek yet so brimming with confidence that it floored him every time. You’d meet in secret, when your husband was out of town on business, slowly giving Jun-Ho the evidence he needed to bring down the man you’d pledged your life to.

It was after your fourth meeting that he fucked you in the back of his car, your moans like the sweetest music to his ears as his took you on the leather seats. From that moment on, Jun-Ho knew there was no going back; he was hooked on you. From that moment on, you would meet each week, exchange information and then make love in his apartment. You smelled like Chanel No.5, and it permeated his bedsheets, keeping him company on the long nights without you. Your lipstick left stains on his skin, marking its way down his chest and thighs. The sound of your breathy moans were permanently etched on his brain, going round and round his head like the most beautiful broken record.

He wasn’t sure when infatuation turned into love. All he knew is that he would do anything for you. He would die for you if it would keep you safe. You were both under no illusion that you were playing a risky game, one that you were almost certain wouldn’t end well.

But for the first time in your life, you could confidently say you knew what love was. Jun-Ho showed you affection and care you’d only ever dreamt of. He made you laugh, made you feel safe, and when his lips explored your body, he made your toes curls in the most exquisite way imaginable.

Yes, you knew this wouldn’t end well. Your husband was not a man who forgave and forgot. But Jun-Ho was determined to keep you safe. He would find a way to break you free of the chains the devil had ensnared you in. He’d find a way to protect you from the man who kept you in constant fear. He didn’t know how this would end, but he knew that he would risk it all for you.

#squid game #squid game 2 #squid game x reader #squid game fanfic #squid game x you #squid game smut #squid game season 2 #hwang jun ho #hwang jun ho x reader #hwang jun ho x you #Hwang jun ho smut #wi ha joon

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koolaidmansbabymama · 24 days ago

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all jokes and sexiness aside, he’s actually such a cutie patootie, bookie, cookie, dookie, wookie, pookie pie 😊

#wi ha joon #wi ha jun #hwang jun ho x reader #hwang jun ho smut #hwang jun ho x you #hwang junho x reader #hwang jun ho #squid game smut #squid game 2 #squid game x y/n #squid game fanfic #squid game #squid game x reader

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yup-thats-me · 1 month ago

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pump it up!

pairing: pervert!gym!trainer Wi Ha-Joon x dumb!fem!reader

summary: the infamous gym trainer in your city has set his eyes on you!

warning: masturbation, suggestive, dark 18+

a/n: enjoy this as fiction, please. this is not meant to portray the actor in any bad light. it's pure fiction. leave if it makes you uncomfortable. this is the edit that inspired me btw<3

gym!trainer Wi Ha-Joon whose pants felt a bit too tight as soon his eyes landed on you. pink bow prettily tied on your pretty head, matching with the pink sports bra that clung to your chest for the life of it.

gym!trainer Wi Ha-Joon who immediately drops the weights he was lifting, his legs taking him to you. he knew he had to get his hands on you before someone else did, or maybe you were already someone else's? fuck it. he'll take his chances.

"do you need help?" his voice ever so gentlemanly. no one would even imagine how he wanted to push you against the wall and smash his lips with yours, his hands roaming around your body like a hungry beast, oh how he would grind—

"oh yes, please!" you said with that innocent smile. oh how he wanted you to scream his name while he abused your hole

you laid on the weight bench, nervously looking up at the metal bar. you needed to get it done, yes but that doesn't mean you can't be scared. it must be fate that the trainer came to your rescue, almost like an angel.

Ha-Joon smiled, his hands on the rod ready to lift it up if you mess up. the first one was okay, your arms straining, lifting it up. Ha-Joon helped a bit in lifting it up.

like a pervert, he quite enjoyed seeing you strain under the weight. he did not even tried to hide the fact that he was shamelessly staring at you, his eyes hungry.

but you paid no mind, of course. to you, the man was simply a gentleman helping you out. after you were done, Ha-Joon would workout around the same equipments beside you, smiling every now and then and on his toes to help you out.

he would ask for your name before you left, his mind creating images of you under him, begging for him to stop but he of course, won't. later that day, Ha-Joon would make several mistakes. call your name to his clients, dropping barbels mindlessly. what could you say? his mind was filled with you and only you.

one day when you let him take a swig from your bottle, he decided it was a sign from you. from then on, his touches would linger more than appropriate, his hands travelling to places, its all innocently of course.

when you hugged him thanking him for always looking out for you in this unknown environment, it was so hard for him to even breath. however, he was not willing to let the opportunity slide though.

his hands would roam around your back as he diverted your mind with his sweet words and sweet smile. he could only hope then that you won't be able to feel his hard on pressing against you, but if you did, even better.

as soon as you left, he would rush to the gym shower, stroking his cock with the same hand that had been on your skin, your name falling from his lips almost like a spell.

and finally, when one day you came to the gym, not with your usual gym outfit, and your eyes red and lips puffy from crying, he was feeling a bit too happy than he should have. finally, your asshole of a boyfriend had cheated on you. how lovely.

pervert.

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dollzites · 19 days ago

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⏦ﾟ♡︎ “DON’T YOU WANT A FAMILY WITH ME?”

୨ৎ pairing: husband!junho x fem reader

୨ৎ genre: angst. major angst that’s slightly emotional.

୨ৎ summary: 5 months into marriage you thought it was time to bring up kids and how big of a family you both wanted but.. things didn’t seem to work out when you brought it up to him and your world slowly started to crumble.

୨ৎ from myeong: hello!! here we are! my first ever angst fic and I hope you can enjoy it!! I feel as if I’m the best at this (since I’ve practiced writing angst so much in my notes app lol) let’s see how it turns out! x

staring at the ticking clock for what had seemed like hours now eyes burning from how long you went without blinking, a sigh left your glossed over lips holding onto the small pair of shoes you came across after leaving work one night. passing by a cute baby shop that held just about everything from clothing items to toys and strollers, your body filled up with this excitement that couldn’t be explained. it had finally been time to talk about a family with junho and the nerves only worsened as each minute went by. of course he wasn’t home yet junho was late almost every night. work was slowly getting to him turning him into a man that you weren’t too familiar with which only hurt more. he’d come home and rant about needing to find something that he just wouldn’t tell you and you never asked him what it was. were you scared to ask him?

“junho..” his name slipped from your lips the second the door opened and you stood from your seat on the couch. his eyes that you adored so much widened seeing the small pair of shoes that you held onto getting all the wrong ideas. awkwardly laughing and shaking your head, “oh.. these? no not at all. I picked them up at the baby shop nearby after work and.. well, just thought they were the cutest little things I’ve ever seen. I thought that maybe one day our little one could wear them.. what do you think?” all the fears that flooded your mind came back that moment seeing the look on his face it almost made you sick to your stomach. “my love, you already know what my answers going to be, hm? work is just too much for me right now. I think we’ll have to wait just a bit longer.” the large and warm hands that made you feel the safest and most comfortable gently grabbed ahold of your own and pulled you closer to him but you didn’t budge. feet staying in place and eyes staring at the floor beneath you it was hard to form words after hearing such an excuse. forcing him would make you feel like the most piece of shit wife in the universe but the both of you weren’t getting any younger and it had always been a dream of yours to have a child early so you could slowly grow with the child and be close with them but junho was stopping you and it was only making things worse in the marriage. many would say to enjoy marriage and wait for kids but you knew that junho would be the most loving, caring, and supportive father in the world. did you sound selfish for wanting to see it so badly? “how long do we have to wait..?”

it was his turn to sigh especially since he pulled you towards him again and you stayed put in the same place you were in when he walked through the door. “just a few more months, yeah? maybe one more year. give me another year and I can finally give you what you want.” a year..? did this man really just say give him a year? slowly looking up from the floor to look at him, a tear rolled down your cheek. why weren’t you able to understand this? it wasn’t rocket science junho was so involved in his work and you had knew that from the beginning but what you weren’t expecting is it to get in the way of the marriage and the topic of wanting kids with him. “don’t you want a family with me?” what a dumb question to ask but it was still asked as a few more tears rolled down your wet and warm cheeks.

“what? of course I want a family with you. why would you ask such a thing? I married you for a reason didn’t I? I love you. I love you so much and you’re so precious to me that’s why I need you to wait just a bit longer.” junho watched the tears roll down your cheeks in pure agony. not being able to communicate with you about his job killed him every day in ways that he didn’t want. as he met up with gihun and spoke about plans he would find himself zoning out thinking about you and how happy he was now being married to you. how much he wanted a child with you and who would that child look more like? his thoughts were clear from the start that he wanted, needed, and adored you. having a family is at the top of his list and he just doesn’t understand why his life had to turn out this way. hiding so many secrets from his precious wife and not knowing if you were safe or not with him during these months of needing to find his brother and the island.

allowing him to pull you into his broad chest a few sobs left you while his arms wrapped around your waist keeping you close to him even when you your best to pull away from him. “let me go junho.” voice stern even if it was weak from the crying you’d done. junho shook his head his grip around you only tightening feeling like the worst husband in the world watching you suffer. “I can make this better. please trust me? we can have a baby soon, alright? I just need a month—maybe two. I hate seeing you like this. you know how important my work is sweetheart.” work. it never failed for him to bring up work even after seeing you cry and feel so worthless like this. using the last bit of strength you had left and pushing away from him reaching to pick up the small pair of shoes and walk past him into your shared bedroom. “if work is that important then you should’ve never married me junho and I mean it! all you do is talk about work and how much it stresses you out but you won’t quit! I’ve told you countless times before to quit and find something more family oriented but you won’t. you’re home late every single night. I hear the phone calls you pick up during the early hours of the morning when you’re supposed to be sleeping. junho I can’t take any more of this. I love you because you’re my husband but I absolutely despise your work.”

junho was left alone in front of the bedroom door after hearing everything you had to say about how you truly felt about him and his work. he moved towards the wall and slid down it letting his hands run through his styled hair messing it up and rubbing the gel off. he had to make things right somehow and someway with you while still trying to find his brother. how? how was he going to do such a thing because at the end of the day he was keeping the most secrets from you, his innocent and loving wife that he absolutely adored. it felt so wrong but not at all wrong at the same time which had been the weirdest feeling for him. you or his job and brother? what kind of question was that? there was no way he could decide so easily without sounding like a heartless prick but.. it was time for him to decide.

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slushnubwrites · 1 month ago

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I concerningly need him like seriously I need him to emp idc 🤗😫

PLEASE I NEED HWANG JUN-HO SMUT WHY IS THERE NONE WRITTEN PLEASEEEEEEEEEE I BEG HES SO SEXY I NEED HIM SO BAD 😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫

(any reqs for ideas so I can write cuz I NEED RIGHT NOW)

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muniimyg · 2 months ago

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⋆꙳•❅ knj: wit it this christmas ❆•꙳

in which your boyfriend absolute sucks at wrapping gifts, leaving you to do all the work since… well, you don't suck. at least, not at gift wrapping!

series m.list // taglist

note: hoe hoe hoe ,, let's begin the series <3

warning: kissing, tit fucking, nam joon slaps oc, blowjob, headpusher!joon, dirty talk (calls her cockslut, bitch, etc), face cum shot

the floor is a mess.

it’s a chaotic spread of wrapping paper scraps, accidentally ripped bows, and ribbons cut the wrong length—not to mention the missing roll of tape…you’re sitting in the middle of it all, cross-legged and nearly about to lose your mind.

meanwhile, namjoon sits beside you, scissors in hand and an expression somewhere between focused and defeated.

“namjoon, this is—this is not even remotely straight. what happened?”

“okay, first of all,” he starts, setting the scissors down exaggeratedly, “you gave me the world’s dullest scissors. second, who needs straight edges? it’s going to get ripped off in like, two seconds.”

“it’s the principle,” you reply, deadpan, as you take the scissors from him and start cutting yourself. “why would we give out poorly wrapped presents? this is our 2nd christmas together—”

he sighs dramatically, leaning back on his hands. “okay, okay…”

“you’re on tape duty,” you say, tossing the roll at him. he catches it clumsily, letting out a small “oof” as it hits his chest.

“wow, demoted again,” he mutters, peeling off a piece of tape and sticking it to his forehead. “what’s next? moral support?”

“don’t tempt me.”

the playful banter carries on as you work, but it’s not long before the god of destruction himself strikes again.

why didn’t you see this coming?

namjoon somehow manages to get the tape stuck to itself, creating an unusable, crumpled mess. you groan, taking the mangled roll from him.

“oh my god. do you suck this bad? fuck, that’s it. you’re officially off tape duty,” you declare, pointing towards the door. “go buy more wrapping paper. now.”

he stares at you, lips twitching into a smirk.

“wow, so controlling. is this how it’s going to be when we’re married? barking orders at me every two seconds?”

“maybe if you actually followed instructions, i wouldn’t have to bark orders.”

his smirk grows into a grin, and there’s a glint in his eye now, playful but challenging.

“you know, you’re kind of scary when you’re in charge.”

“good.”

"hot too."

"shut up."

the tension shifts, thickening the air between you. his grin fades into something softer, and when he leans closer, the warmth of his breath brushes your cheek. your heart skips as his hand finds your wrist, halting your movements.

“you’re so bossy,” he murmurs, his voice low, teasing.

as much as you want to get these presents wrapped and out of the way, there’s something about his voice that pulls you back. something that makes your pulse race. even so, you fight through the urge.

“and you suck,” you counter, but your words come out quieter, softer than you intend. "useless."

he chuckles, the sound deep and warm, before he closes the distance between you entirely.

“useless, huh?” he says, tilting his head, his nose brushing yours. there’s a lazy smirk tugging at his lips now. “you don’t sound too convincing, you know.”

your breath hitches.

“well, you’ve got me surrounded by evidence, namjoon. want me to list all the ways you’ve been no help tonight? you fucking suck.”

his fingers tighten slightly around your wrist, grounding you, his thumb brushing idly against your skin.

“maybe i just needed the right kind of motivation.”

you narrow your eyes at him, but your pulse betrays you, hammering wildly in your chest.

“and what kind of motivation would that be?”

he doesn’t answer right away, just looks at you, his gaze slow and deliberate, like he’s memorizing every detail. when his free hand reaches up, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear, you feel your breath catch again.

“maybe if you stopped looking so pretty,” he murmurs, his voice dipping lower, “i’d be able to focus.”

your cheeks burn, but you scoff, trying to ignore the heat pooling in your stomach.

“pretty sure being able to cut paper straight has nothing to do with how i look.”

“that��s where you’re wrong,” he says softly, his lips dangerously close to yours now. “because the whole time i’ve been thinking about kissing you instead of—”

you don’t let him finish.

it’s instinctive, the way you close the distance, your lips pressing to his in a kiss that’s more impatient than soft. but he doesn’t seem to mind. his hand slips to the back of your neck, pulling you closer, while his other drops your wrist to settle on your waist.

the kiss deepens, slow and steady at first, before it grows more heated, all the playful tension from earlier unraveling between you. you can feel the faint press of his grin against your lips, making you smile too, even as your fingers tangle in his hair.

“so,” he murmurs against your lips when you finally break apart, his voice breathless, “am i still useless?”

“you’re getting there,” you reply, and before he can respond, you’re pulling him back in.

mid kiss, he pulls away and breathes; “you know how you’ve been yapping about how much i fucking suck at wrapping presents?”

you nod.

“let’s see how much you suck, boss.”

nam joon has you placed in between his thighs.

your mouth wraps around the tip of his cock. kissing it lightly, you open your mouth wider to suck him in slowly. you only take the top half though, trying to warm him up.

he’s leaning back against the couch and watching you with needy eyes. his eyebrows furrow as you take him deeper, letting a muffed moan out every now and then. for a moment, he squeezes his thighs together, trapping you. you almost choke from the lack of air, but it’s only enough for your eyes to get teary. when he lets go, you gasp for air. he smirks, liking the way you lost your breath. then, you get back into it.

as you drag your tongue along his length, he hisses; “yeah? that’s it, baby. lick my fucking cock. see how hard it is?”

“mhm? really fucking hard, baby.”

“take your tits out,” he instructs you, shifting so can have the space to take your shirt off.

you do so.

“like this?”

“yes,” nam joon murmurs as he helps you undress. nam joon reaches over to unclasp your bra. tossing it to the side, he grabs a handful of your breasts and bites his lip. “so fucking pretty, baby. tits so fucking juicy. so perfect. god, so fucking perfect…”

you tilt your head and shake your body, getting your tits to jiggle. he groans and slaps them. then, with a raspy and demanding voice, he says;

“be a good girl and fuck my cock with your tits, baby.”

you smile, liking the idea.

repositioning yourself, you kneel over and hold both sides of your breasts. pushing them together, nam joon helps but gently guiding his cock into your cleavage. he thrusts slowly, and you both watch the way the tip of his dick pops out.

you spit on top and he moans from the warmth of your saliva.

before you know it, he’s fucking your tits.

he pumps himself in and out, harder and harder by the minute.

then, he places his hand on top of your head and holds you still as he pushes his cock into your mouth.

“take it, bitch.”

so you do.

you take him in, sucking him hard and sloppy. you take him in so good, he’s near cumming. he can feel his dick harden inside your mouth and you do too. it’s like every curve and vein pops out, angry and ready to burst. you feel his body tense too—his thighs, his pelvis, and even the way his face winces… it’s such a huge tell.

soon, nam joon begins to pant. then, he takes a handful of your hair and tugs your head back. surprised by his suddenness, you let go of everything. he bends over and kisses you, shoving his tongue inside.

you kiss him back, matching his desperation and passion.

when he pulls away, he cups your face with one hand and squishes your lips together.

“do as i say,” he huffs. “okay, baby?”

you nod.

he slaps your face.

“good girl.”

you moan and he slaps you again. roughly, cups your face and spits on you. his saliva sprays all over your face, but more on your lips.

“what do you say?”

“thank you.”

“yeah, that’s right, bitch. you fucking say thank you when i spit in your face, right? because you’re such a fucking cockslut. you take me in so good, why? cos you love me? or because you love my cock?”

you blink at him, pouting.

“because i love you.”

he lets out a chuckle.

“and my cock,” he adds. “say you love my cock, baby. then tell me what you love about it. say it while you suck me dry.”

without another word, he pushes your head down and takes his cock in his hands. pumping it slowly, he shoves it into your mouth and hisses at you.

“look at me,” nam joon deadpans. “don’t take your eyes off me.”

you listen.

you watch as the corner of his lips curve into a smirk. he holds his cock steady as he uses his other hand to push your head.

headpusher.

you breathe in through your nose, trying to steady yourself. as he pushes your head, his cock reaches the back of your throat multiple times. you gag every now and then, and he takes his cock out to give you some air. as you cough, he runs his thumb against your lips and asks if you’re okay. you simply nod and take him back in.

you suck him off.

lick him up.

and soon enough, he lets go of your head.

with your newfound freedom, you plop down and dig into his balls.

as you shove your face deeper, sucking his balls and pressing kisses on his length, you tell him;

“mhmpphh… baby, your cock is so fucking hard in my mouth. did you feel how deep i took you? thank you for helping me, baby… such a good fucking daddy. always helping his girl take him in… you like that, right? you like how big your cock is… doesn’t even fit in my mouth.”

“yeah?”

“mhm,” you hum, shifting up to suck the tip of his cock. then, you take in more.

and more.

and even more.

his body tenses.

you look up at him, batting your eyelashes.

“see?” you ask, mouth full of his cock. you suck as much as you can as you bob your head up. “f-fuck, baby… i can’t wait for you to cum. i love the way you cum taste. you always make it so sweet for me. what do you wanna do today, hmm? cum on my face? cum on my tits? i want it all, baby… will you give it to me? can this fucking big hard cock give me what i need?”

nam joon nods.

“yeah?” you ask him, continuing to suck him dry.

you watch as his body winces.

“how do i look?”

“so pretty…”

“pretty?” you tease. “you like it when i suck you cock like this? you’re such a mouthfull… you say i’m bossy? this is how you shut me up, right?”

“yeah.”

“looks like you’re the one that’s all shut up,” you giggle. “do i suck your cock that good?”

“so good… my pretty cockslut.”

you pout. “then what’s taking so long? cum already. i wanna swallow.”

nam joon bucks his hips and listens to your request. he fucks your mouth. nam joon grunts, squirms, and finally—he cums.

when he does, his cum rushes out and splatters over your face. he aims for your mouth as you stick your tongue out. a part of you wishes he didn't pull out and just spilled himself entirely inside your mouth.

he wipes the cum that landed on your cheek and shoves his fingers in your mouth. you suck it clean and moan from the heavenly taste. before he can move, you reach over and grab a piece of ribbon on the floor.

he sits still and laughs as you tie and make a bow of it around the base of his cock. you get up and find your phone and quickly snap a picture.

nam joon’s legs are sprawled wide with one arm draped lazily over the backrest. his posture isn’t anything close to refined—more slouched than seated (it’s the post-nut posture). in the picture, his head tilted, eyes half-lidded like everything about him was effortless. his cock has a pretty pink bow tied around it.

when you kneel up to show him, he groans.

“my dick looks too soft.”

you giggle.

“not my problem.”

just as you’re about to move away, he grabs you by your hair and tugs your back. he places a kiss on your cheek then on your lips. against them, he murmurs;

“it will be if you don’t fucking put my cock back inside your pretty mouth."

"oh? is that it?"

nam joon smirks.

"mhm... be a good girl and swallow this time.”

"don't pull out then." you pout.

"i'm so sorry about that," he tilts his head. "i'll be good boy this time and cum inside your mouth."

"promise?"

"promise."

#bts fanfic #nam joon smut #nam joon fluff #nam joon boyfriend au #rm smut #rm fanfic #rm scenario #rm boyfriend #rm x yn #nam joon x yn #bts x reader #bts smut

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meadowfics · 3 days ago

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lost and found

hwang jun-ho x f!reader

the world is cruel, and you and the officer find out that it will get worse.

warnings: mentions of death! unfortunately, squid game is in this one. romantic tension. slow burn-ish. this takes place during season 1. junho being innocently stalker-ish. PTSD, stealing/theft, pre-established relationship, it gets spicy towards the end. platonic saebyeok x f!reader and platonic gi hun x f!reader too.

the city of seoul has never been kind to you.

it used to be, once upon a time. when you were young and did not know much, before the world decided to spit you out like something bitter and unwanted. back then, you were soft. you had this endless capacity to love, to forgive, to believe that people were good at their core.

maybe some still are, but you don’t care to look for them anymore. there was a time when your empathy was your greatest strength…when you saw someone struggling, you helped, even if it meant giving them the last bit of food in your pocket.

however, life has a way of chewing up people like you. people who give too much. people who don’t know when to stop bleeding for others.

so now, you don’t give.

you take.

survival in seoul isn’t kind to the softhearted. there are too many wolves in this city, too many people ready to step on your neck the moment you let your guard down. you learned that the hard way. so you adjusted, adapted. you became what you needed to be to live.

you steal, scam, and take what you need from those who won’t miss it. not too much…never enough to bring too much attention to yourself or get charged for the felony equivalent in south korea. you only steal enough to survive. enough to make it another day.

your hands are quick, your mind sharper. you’ve learned how to slip through the cracks of the world, how to turn your heart into steel since nobody else ever cared about you.

some nights, when the neon lights of hongdae reflect against the pavement and the city hums with life, you sit alone and wonder if there’s a way out of this. the party life is just right outside of your apartment.

sometimes you wonder if there’s a light waiting for you at the end of the tunnel.

each time, the answer is the same.

no.

there is no light. there is only the dark tunnel.

in seoul, it’s late, the air thick with the scent of soju and grilled meat, laughter spilling out from the bars lining the street. the party district of hongdae is alive, especially tonight since college students go back to school tommorow.

the sidewalks are crammed with people stumbling between clubs, couples clinging to each other, groups of friends taking drunken selfies under the flickering streetlights. it’s an easy place to disappear into, a perfect hunting ground for someone like you.

you spot the redhead almost immediately.

she looks around your age, maybe a little older. the woman’s purse hangs loosely over her shoulder, the zipper half-open, a bunch of 50,000 won bills peeking out.

that girl is too careless. too trusting, too stupid. your fingers twitch. you don’t hesitate. you step forward, close enough to brush past her, then your hand snatches the purse in one swift motion.

“hey!” she yelps, whirling around, reaching for you. the girl’s fingers graze your sleeve, but you’re faster. you yank the purse away, shoving her back hard. she stumbles, hitting the pavement with a startled cry.

you don’t feel anything. not guilt, not regret. you feel just the rush of adrenaline as you clutch the stolen bag tighter and start to run off.

then…

“hey, stop!”

your head snaps behind.

a police officer.

the voice of authority cuts through the noise of the crowd, sharp and commanding. your eyes lock onto him for a split second…a man with dark hair, strong jaw, eyes locked onto you with unwavering determination.

fuck.

you don’t hesitate. your feet move before your mind can catch up, body twisting as you bolt into the crowd. the bag is clutched tight in your arms as you weave through bodies, heart slamming against your ribs. behind you, the officer is still yelling, shoving past people, chasing you.

it’s a long run. too long. your lungs burn, your legs scream in protest, but you can’t stop. not now. you need this money to survive and cannot spend a night in a cold cell, not again at least.

the streets blur as you sprint, twisting through alleyways, slipping through groups of people too drunk to notice you. the officer is persistent, but so are you.

the desperation makes you faster in way.

left. right. through a narrow gap between two buildings. past a food stall. over a railing. you smacked into a few people but most of them mainly found entertainment in the whole thing. the police officer being frustrated that they didn’t catch you for him.

you can still hear his feet running behind you, but the distance is growing. he’s good, but you’re better. you have to be.

finally, finally, you see an opening…a narrow alley packed with people, bodies pressed together in drunken laughter. you push into the throng, squeezing between them, head down, moving fast.

the moment you’re inside the mass of people, you twist, slipping out the other side.

the officer doesn’t make it through in time.

you could swear that you heard him swear, then nothing.

you keep running until you’re sure he’s gone, until your lungs burn and your vision blurs.

back in the alley, hwang jun-ho stands at the edge of the crowd, hands on his knees, breathing hard. frustration twists in his chest.

he catches everyone, but not you tonight.

not this time.

just a few blocks away, you just linger among the party crowd. you don’t go home immediately since that would be stupid. instead, you just take a long, winding path through backstreets and alleyways, making sure no one is following you.

only when you’re certain that you’ve shaken off any lingering attention do you head back to your apartment.

your door has two locks, and you slide the security bar into place before exhaling. safe.

the stolen purse hits your kitchen island with a dull thud. you waste no time, unzipping it and dumping everything out onto the table.

a fenty lip gloss, used and sticky. gross. a single tampon, the woman could’ve kept that.

a metro card..you toss it straight into the trash since it's too risky and can be tracked.

then, jackpot.

there were identification cards which were meaningless to you. the thick wad of cash though? that’s everything. you grab the bills, hands steady as you start counting. 10,000 won, 50,000 won, 100,000 won… when you’re finished, the total stands at 1,200,000 won.

this isn’t just a good night. this is security. rent for next month, covered. a few days inside, hidden, making sure that officer doesn’t recognize you.

you let out a slow breath. for now, you’re safe.

well, only for three days because now the cold steel of the chair digs into your back as you slouch against it, wrists resting lazily in your lap, the handcuffs cold against your skin. the precinct smells of burnt coffee and old papers, fluorescent lights humming above you.

you had a few days of peace before the cops knocked on your door, telling you that you had to go down to the station. they know you by name now, not bothering to go an extra mile since you never change the signature of your crimes.

the only reason you’re not behind bars is because the girl you robbed doesn’t even live here. she already went back to her home in the UK according to the officer. so, fortunately, you just get another warning.

you should be relieved, maybe even grateful, but you don’t feel anything. nothing at all.

across from you, leaning against the edge of the desk with arms crossed, is the officer who chased you that night. hwang jun-ho is his name.

he is pissing you off. not for being a pig, but you hate that he looks good in the dim light, hate the sharp angles of his face, the slight furrow in his brow as he watches you like you’re some puzzle he can’t quite solve.

you’re used to police officers looking at you with disgust, with judgment, but there’s something different in his gaze. curiosity.

“so,” he finally speaks, his voice even.

“you’re fast.”

you shrug.

“what can i say?”

he tilts his head slightly, gaze sweeping over you in assessment.

“you play sports?”

you exhale sharply through your nose, a ghost of a laugh.

“that’s not important.”

jun-ho smirks, but it’s gone just as quickly as it appears.

“fair.”

he steps away, pacing to the side as he flips through a thin file…yours, probably. your name, your face, your crimes reduced to black ink on paper. you wonder how much of your life is in there, if they know more than just your record.

“you’ve been warned before,” he says, flipping a page.

“a few times, actually. shoplifting. scams. pickpocketing.” he closes the file and meets your gaze. “but no felony charges.”

“guess i’m lucky,” you say, leaning back, feigning boredom.

“not luck,” jun-ho corrects, sliding his hands into his pockets.

“just smart enough to not take it too far.” he tilts his head slightly.

you say nothing, looking away.

“give back the purse.”

you reach your cuffed hands under the table, grabbing the bag and tossing it onto the desk between you. the leather is slightly worn from the days you’ve had it, but nothing else is out of place.

jun-ho watches you carefully, then sighs.

“the money.”

you don’t move.

the money is in your safe, in your bedroom walls, at home.

the money you refuse to give back.

he exhales through his nose, shaking his head like he expected this.

“of course.”

you let the silence settle between you, waiting for whatever lecture is coming, but he doesn’t scold you. instead, he leans in just slightly, dropping his voice.

“i’m keeping an eye on you.”

you scoff, rolling your eyes.

“right. cause you’ve got nothing better to do.”

jun-ho doesn’t react, his face unreadable.

“considering this isn’t your first warning? yeah. i don’t.”

you push back in your chair, the metal legs scraping against the floor.

“well, officer,” you say, tone sharp with sarcasm, “i look forward to our next meeting.”

jun-ho watches as you’re escorted out, his eyes following you even as you disappear down the hall.

weeks pass and you try to forget about the encounter, about the way his voice sounded when he said your name, about the way his dark eyes studied you like you were something worth understanding.

you try to focus on surviving.

you get a job… a shitty one, but one that pays enough to keep you afloat for now.

every now and then, when you step into a small café for breakfast, when you walk through the streets at night, when you’re with your only friend sae-byeok whispering about her crimes… he’s there.

jun-ho is never too far away, usually across the street or on the other side of a park.

he never does anything and he never speaks, but you see him, leaning against a wall, pretending to be busy with his phone, pretending to be on patrol.

however, his eyes will always follow you.

one evening, you and sae-byeok finish a quick meal at a convenience store, standing outside by the flickering neon lights. she shoves her hands into her pockets, giving you a knowing look.

“that asshole is staring again.”

you sigh, glancing over.

jun-ho stands across the street, pretending he’s not looking directly at you.

sae-byeok chuckles under her breath.

“he’s obsessed with you.”

“he’s a cop,” you mutter.

“it’s his job to be annoying.”

she nudges your arm.

“you should go say hi.”

“and what? tell him to fuck off?”

she grins.

“exactly.”

you roll your eyes, watching as she walks off.

once she’s gone, you take a deep breath and cross the street, closing the distance between you and jun-ho.

he looks up as you approach, not surprised.

“you’re a creep,” you say flatly.

jun-ho exhales through his nose, barely amused.

“you’re a criminal.”

“not anymore.”

his brows lift slightly.

“really?”

“yeah,” you say, crossing your arms.

“i found a job. so get off my back. i’m not stealing anymore.”

jun-ho hums, unconvinced.

“that’s a trend for you.”

you glare at him.

“what?”

he shrugs, “you get a job, hate the pay, then go back to stealing… sometimes from the same place you work at.”

you scoff, rolling your eyes. “you need a better hobby, i cannot live in your head rent free.”

“i have one,” he says, avoiding what you said last.

“i’m just doing my job.”

you shake your head, stepping back. “whatever,” you mutter, turning on your heel and walking off. you know he won’t follow. he never does but somehow he’s always close.

overtime, maybe a week or so.. jun-ho never thought that he’d be the type of cop to get overly invested. not really. working for the police is his job…catching criminals, chasing leads, dealing with lowlifes who made their money through terrible means. he never let himself get too curious, never let himself care too much to where it affected his personal life.

however, you, you are a puzzle he can’t help but try to solve.

at first, it was just an annoyance. you had slipped through his fingers that night in hongdae, and that bruised his ego. he didn’t lose people, but somehow, you had outrun him. a girl whos shorter than him.

when he finally caught you, he had expected to feel satisfaction, but it never came because instead, he just felt intrigued.

now, you’re barely doing anything wrong. you’ve stayed out of trouble for a while, and he should be relieved. he should be happy. instead, he finds himself watching and observing because despite all the things you’ve done, despite the walls you keep up, there are cracks in that mask of yours… ones he never expected to see.

he sees it in the way you linger at the local market, the way your fingers brush over fresh fruit before you tuck them carefully into a paper bag, paying with what little money you have. he wonders why you never steal from here, why the vendors greet you with small nods instead of suspicion.

junho sees it in the alley behind the convenience store, where stray cats weave between your ankles, tails flicking in contentment as you crouch down to feed them scraps of tuna and unseasoned chicken.

you don’t talk to them, don’t coo at them like most people would… but your hands are gentle, your touch careful, as if you’re afraid of breaking something fragile.

then, there’s the lemonade stand thing that happened yesterday afternoon.

jun-ho didn’t even mean to see it. he’s just in the police car, just patrolling, when he spots you across the street. there’s a kid that sis no older than ten standing behind a makeshift stand with a pitcher of lemonade and a stack of plastic cups.

the sign is messy, written in thick, uneven strokes. 1,000 won per cup!

he watches as you pause, as you reach into your pocket, pulling out a crumpled bill.

you hand it to the boy.

you don’t take the over-sweetened lemonade. you just shove your hands in your pockets and walk away before the kid can even thank you.

jun-ho doesn’t know why that bothers him so much.

maybe it’s because it doesn’t fit the version of you he’s built in his head. the version that’s cold, calculating, selfish, and greedy. that version is wrong, isn’t it? a selfish person wouldn’t waste their own money on a kid just trying to make some change.

a selfish person wouldn’t play with stray cats or make sure to buy expensive fruit instead of stealing it.

he doesn’t know what your story is, but he’s starting to understand that you are not heartless. reckless? yes. irresponsible? absolutely. not cruel. not fully empty like you try to seem.

that fact is becoming his problem.

he’s read your file. he knows more than he should. your past, the childhood neglect, the system that failed you over and over again. he’s seen it before with people turning bitter, turning desperate, because the world gave them nothing and expected them to make do.

he’s a police officer, not a superhero. he can’t fix that or fix you.

junho wishes you would just stop making stupid decisions. maybe if you did, maybe if you found a way out of this cycle.

maybe then, he could approach you differently.

maybe then, he wouldn’t just be watching.

see, you’re not stupid.

jun-ho might be a good cop, but he’s a shit liar.

he acts like he’s patrolling, like he’s just doing his job. you know better. he’s watching you nd keeping tabs on you. the man is always near, always somewhere in the background. does he have a wife? kids? maybe not, he is still on the younger side. maybe just five to seven years older than you. its clear that he is single with too much freetime.

maybe if you were the same person you were five years ago, soft, trusting, and hopeful, you would have been creeped out, even scared that a police officer was suspicious of you.

now, it just makes you feel something you don’t want to name.

you know you haven’t stolen in weeks. you haven’t picked a pocket, scammed a dumb drunk, or lifted a wallet off a distracted tourist. that 1,200,000 won is keeping you stable… at least for now. long enough, hopefully, until jun-ho gets bored and moves on.

lately, the thought of him moving on, of him not watching you anymore, makes your chest feel tight because no one notices you. no one ever has in the large city of seoul.

your only friend, sae-byeok, even disappeared at times.

throughout your whole life, you’ve been invisible to the people who should’ve cared, to the world that chewed you up and spat you out, to the strangers who walk past you every day without a second glance.

jun-ho, that damn police officer, he sees you. even if he’s just doing it because he thinks you’ll screw up again, even if it’s nothing but routine for him, it still means something.

that pisses you off.

he’s annoying because he’s too attractive for his own good, because he gets under your skin in a way no one else does or has ever had.

so when you spot him across the street, writing up some guy for speeding, you don’t think and you just move.

you stand a few feet away and wait until he’s finished, watching as he hands over the ticket with that same unimpressed expression he always wears. when the guy finally drives off in frustration, you step forward, hands in your pockets, your voice laced with teasing amusement.

“well, it looks like you finally found something else to do besides watching me.”

jun-ho doesn’t even look surprised. just rolls his eyes as he slips his notepad back into his jacket.

“trust me, you’re not that interesting.”

you smirk.

“oh, really? then why are you always around?”

he exhales sharply, shaking his head.

“coincidence.”

“bullshit.”

he huffs a laugh, crossing his arms.

“you’re awfully confident for someone who’s one mistake away from getting arrested.”

you tilt your head, stepping a little closer, just enough to make it personal.

“i haven’t stolen in weeks. you know that. so what’s your excuse, officer?”

jun-ho says nothing, just looks at you, unreadable. for a second, you think you see something flicker in his eyes… something not quite irritation, not quite amusement.

then he sighs, “go home, y/n. it's getting late.”

you grin, ignoring the way his voice sounds when he says your name.

“whatever you say, officer.”

you step back, turning on your heel, but before you walk away, you glance over your shoulder.

“see you tomorrow.”

jun-ho doesn’t respond, but you don’t need him to because you both know the truth. i mean there were no plans but he is never too far away from you.

not even an hour later in the subway, you press your tongue against the inside of your cheek, fingers gripping the red square piece of paper between your thumb and index finger.

your palms sting, and faint imprints of the salesman’s hand still tingling against the skin on your face. the bastard had slapped you twice, only twice, but your pride felt more bruised than your face.

you should’ve walked away from the salesman who sat down next to you, you should’ve kept your head down, taken your money from the last round, and gone home. the moment he laughed at you, and told you that him and his “organization” knew everything about you, you knew that this was no coincidence.

the salesman had handed you a small card before leaving the station, something he implied that would change your life. it was thin, a little worn at the edges, the symbols on the front simple but strange: a circle, a triangle, a square.

you flip it over.

a phone number.

“call when you’re ready for your chance,” the man had said, smiling like he knew something you didn’t.

you stare at the numbers, tapping the card against your palm as the subway car sways gently beneath your feet.

something about it feels off. it’s too mysterious, too cryptic… but the promise of financial freedom? of something bigger?

you need that.

you close your eyes briefly, exhaling through your nose. you don’t know why, but in the back of your mind, you wish jun-ho had been there.

not to stop you, necessarily… but just to be there.

if he had been, maybe he would’ve told you to be careful. maybe he would’ve pulled you away from the salesman, away from whatever this was, away from another stupid decision.

however, jun-ho has his own problems.

across the city, jun-ho exhales sharply, staring at the thin card between his fingers. little did you know, he did have a life outside of work. junho’s mind is elsewhere, swirling with frustration, worry, and a growing sense of unease.

inho, his older brother, his only family besides his mom, has been missing for weeks.

no leads. no clues. just gone. until now.

the man in front of him.. gi-hun, scruffy, desperate, looking defeated, tells junho that he made up a lie at the police station. a lie about a card that junho saw on his brother’s desk.

“where did you get this?” jun-ho asks, his voice steady but demanding.

jun-ho remembers the card. a circle. triangle. square.

inho had this same card in his apartment before he vanished.

when gihun walks away, junho lets him but he does not give up.

meanwhile, you sit in the subway car, flipping the card between your fingers, picking on the inside of your cheek with your teeth.

a few nights later, jun-ho knows that he shouldn’t be here outside.

it’s past midnight, and he should be going home after his shift, should be focusing on his brother, should be figuring out why gi-hun is connected to all of this. however, when he spots gi-hun walking down the empty street, he moves on instinct, following from a safe distance.

the thing is that he doesn’t expect to see you but there you are passing gi hun on the block, keeping your head down while walking down the quiet street.

you don’t see junho. you’re too busy walking, hands deep in your pockets, shoulders tense. at first, he assumes the worst… that you’re about to do something stupid, that you’re going back to your old habits, that you’ll make him chase you again.

he should leave you alone but junho can’t so he detours, shadowing you instead.

but then, you stop.

jun-ho narrows his eyes, staying low behind a parked car. you stand outside a small park, unmoving. your hands tighten in your pockets, and for a moment, it almost looks like you’re hesitating and then the van pulls up.

jun-ho stiffens, watching as you glance up, exhaling a breath before stepping forward. the door slides open and you climb in. three seconds later, smoke fills up the van’s windows. a thick, white, flooding the air.

jun-ho’s heart pounds. he watches as the van lingers for only a few seconds before pulling away, disappearing down the street.

“the hell?” he mutters under his breath, immediately making his way back to his car. the officers hands grip the wheel tightly as he follows, keeping a careful distance, headlights off. the man’s mind races… who the hell were these people? did you know them? were you in danger?

the van slows down five blocks later and and jun-ho’s stomach drops.

gi-hun, standing with the same look you had.

the van door slides open again, the same cloud of smoke spilling out into the night air.

gi-hun stumbles, barely reacting before he collapses, his body slumping forward.

jun-ho grips the steering wheel tighter, his jaw clenching.

this wasn’t just some underground scam.

this was something else, something big, and now, he had to protect two people.

one… a man who might be his only lead to his missing brother.

the other… a woman who had no idea what kind of hell she was walking into.

three days later, your body is stiff, motionless, even as your mind screams at you to run. that is because you don’t belong here. you never did.

the deaths, the endless and ruthless deaths, should’ve broken you by now. however, you refuse to let it show. you refuse to let anyone see that you’re barely keeping yourself together, that your heart threatens to claw its way out of your chest every time a gunshot echoes through the air.

sae-byeok notices, though. she always does.

she ended up in these games. she is player 067, and you are player 404. luckily, sae byeok stays close, her presence grounding you, keeping you from slipping too far into your own head. you’ve survived red light, green light. you’ve survived dalgona, but surviving isn’t the same as living.

you exhale slowly, fists clenched as the guards flood into the dorms due to some sort of situation. their guns are raised, black masks concealing their faces. your eyes flick to sae-byeok, who remains perfectly still, her expression unreadable.

beside you, gi-hun tenses.

a guard steps forward, voice sharp.

“do you know any player by the name of hwang in-ho?”

gi-hun shakes his head.

“no.”

“w-we don’t use our names in here.”

he continues,

however, your breath hitches, barely audible.

because that voice…

you turn your head, scanning the line of guards, your heart pounding against your ribs.

it’s stupid. so stupid.

you’re being paranoid. you’re in survival mode, and your mind is playing tricks on you.

jun-ho is not here.

for a second, just a second, your eyes lock onto the guard that was behind you. somehow, the guard doesn’t look away.

your throat tightens but it’s impossible.

stop thinking about jun-ho all the time. he is not here.

you force yourself to clear your thoughts, shaking your head slightly before looking away, pretending the moment never happened.

the guards stay for a few more minutes, checking something… you don’t know what, don’t care what… before they leave.

however, you sit back down in exhaustion, hoping to get out of here soon.

three more days go by and the air is thick with the stench of blood and rain.

your fingers twitch, your breathing shallow, but all you can do is stare. sang-woo’s body lies motionless in front of you, crimson pooling beneath him. dead. you should feel something. anything. relief, maybe. satisfaction. however, all you feel is rage. burning, searing rage.

sae-byeok should be here. sangwoo killed sae-byeok just a few hours before this moment.

sae-byeok should be standing beside you, should be breathing, should be alive.

the only person in your life is now gone.

now it’s just you and gi-hun.

you tighten your fists, nails digging into your palms as the finality of it all crashes down on you like a tidal wave. you won. you and gi-hun are the last ones standing. it doesn’t feel like a victory though, it feels like a punishment.

you don’t remember much after that.

it’s all a blur. the way the guards forced you into a van, blindfolded, hands tied. you barely even processed the moment they threw you back onto the cold pavement of the city, the impact sending a sharp ache through your ribs. you untie yourself quickly, fingers trembling slightly as you rip the blindfold off, blinking against the dim streetlights.

you’re back but not in those suffocating green jumpsuits, not in that godforsaken arena of death. you’re in your own clothes. the same ones you wore before stepping into that van all those days ago.

your breath comes out shaky as you pat yourself down, desperate for something, anything, that proves this wasn’t some fever dream, that you’re really standing here, that you made it out.

your fingers brush against something solid, metallic. your stomach twists. slowly, you pull it from your pocket. a gold card. your hands tremble as you stare at it. you already know what it means.

however, you have to see it with your own eyes.

you take off running, feet pounding against the pavement as you sprint to the nearest ATM.

your heart is hammering in your chest when you shove the card into the machine, barely able to keep your hands steady. the screen loads, the numbers processing.

your breath catches.

balance: 22.8 billion won.

you sway on your feet, gripping the edge of the ATM, fingers white-knuckled.

you made it. you’re free since there is no more stealing, no more running, no more waking up every day wondering if you’ll make it to the next.

you won.

why does it feel so fucking hollow?

why does the sight of those numbers on the screen make your stomach churn instead of settle?

why do you feel like you lost more than you won?

you exhale, stepping away from the ATM, forcing yourself to straighten.

you have to keep moving.

you have to act normal because the moment you let this break you, the moment you let the cracks widen, is the moment you really lose.

deep down, you know it.

things aren’t over yet.

more weeks go by and your apartment doesn’t feel like home anymore. it’s the same. its the same same peeling wallpaper, same secondhand furniture, same dim lighting that flickers in the kitchen. however, you are different.

the streets outside are loud, too loud. car horns make you flinch, sudden shouts send ice down your spine, and every time you close your eyes, you see flashes of red. of green. of bodies hitting the ground. living in the city does not seem like a smart idea anymore.

however, you force yourself to settle back into your old routine. you buy fruit at the market. you feed the stray cats. you pretend everything is fine.

nothing is fine.

suddenly, a knock on your door brings back another old routine.

it’s light. soft.

you don’t flinch since it was so light but your heart pounds anyway.

you hesitate before opening the door, fingers gripping the handle tighter than necessary. when you see him standing there, alive, real, your breath catches in your throat.

jun-ho.

for a moment, you just stare.

your chest tightens, your throat burns, and you feel dangerously close to crying. for weeks, you’ve convinced yourself that he moved on. that he never noticed you were gone and that he forgot you. he’s here.

junho’s eyes scan your face carefully, like he’s checking to see if you’re really okay.

“can i come in?” his voice is softer than you remember.

you nod quickly, stepping aside.

he enters, his presence filling the small space as you shut the door behind him. he doesn’t move much, just stands there, hands in his pockets, eyes lingering on you.

“tea?” you offer, voice hoarse.

“water’s fine if you have any.”

you pour him a glass, setting it down in front of him before sitting across from him at your small table. the silence stretches between you both as you sit down in front of him at your table.

the weight of everything presses down on your chest.

“i was there, too.”

you freeze at his words.

jun-ho exhales, rubbing a hand over his jaw.

“on the island. i followed gi-hun. i was looking for my missing brother.”

your stomach twists, you did not know this much information about junho.

“you know gi-hun?”

he nods.

“yeah. he led me there without realizing it.” he hesitates, eyes locking onto yours.

he didn’t speak for a moment as you looked at him with curiosity, is he okay? was he a player? why didn’t you see him? how didn’t he get caught?

“i pretending to be a guard. the circle one that you saw that day in the dorms. later on I got shot in my shoulder, but i am okay.”

junho reassures. yet, you are not reassured.

“i was looking out for you, too.”

your breath shudders.

he leans forward slightly.

“when i saw you get in that van, i—” he stops, jaw tightening.

“i thought i lost you.”

something inside you cracks.

you don’t know when the tears start. one second, you’re staring at him, trying to hold it together, and the next, your vision blurs, hot tears spilling down your cheeks. jun-ho doesn’t say anything, just watches, just listens, as everything you’ve been holding in breaks.

“i didn’t sign up for that,” you choke out, voice shaking.

“i thought— i thought it was just games. just money. i just wanted to be able to stop what i used to do.”

junho’s expression darkens, but he says nothing.

you shake your head, wiping at your face.

“they killed them. all of them. and i– i just stood there, i just..”

you gasp, a sob wrenching from your throat before you can stop it.

jun-ho moves before you can register it. one second, you’re falling apart and the next, his arms are around you, pulling you close.

you freeze since his warmth seeps into you, his steady breathing grounding you. junho’s grip is firm, solid, real. this is the first time since sae-byeok’s death that you don’t feel alone.

you clutch the fabric of his shirt, your fingers curling tightly into the material as you let yourself feel. you cry for sae-byeok. for the people who didn’t make it. for the part of yourself that died on that island.

jun-ho holds you through all of it.

when your sobs quiet into shaky breaths, you whisper against his shoulder, “can you stay?”

he doesn’t hesitate.

“yeah,” he murmurs. “i’ll stay.”

he needs this just as much as you do.

when you finally pull back, your face is inches from his.

the officer’s hand lingers on your back, his breath warm against your cheek. junho’s eyes, dark, searching, soft, flicker down to your lips for only a second before meeting your gaze again.

your heart pounds, but this time, it’s not from fear.

the officer is now living with you, but he is different now.

something inside of him has shifted, cracked beyond repair.

after finding out that his own brother, the one he spent so long searching for, was the mastermind behind that place, he couldn’t bring himself to go back to his old life. to the force and to the law because what was the point?

this world was cruel but you already knew that.

he spends his days with you now. at first, it’s small things, late breakfasts, quiet conversations, accompanying each other to the store, sitting in the same room without speaking. suddenly, it becomes something more. something deeper because you grow close. too close.

neither of you say anything about it.

the tension between you simmers beneath the surface, heavy and waiting. it’s in the way jun-ho’s eyes linger on you when you’re not looking, in the way your fingers brush against his when you pass him something, in the way your body tenses whenever he gets too close, but you never pull away.

one night, it finally snaps.

you wake up crying.

your dreams, no, your memories, are suffocating. blood, screams, gunfire. your body shakes, your chest tightens, and you can’t breathe.

you force yourself out of bed, wiping your face as you shuffle toward the kitchen. maybe water will help. maybe the cold tile beneath your feet will ground you. however, as you step out into the hallway, you stop.

jun-ho stands in the hallway, shirt loose, hair messy, his face unreadable. it looks like he just step outside of his room as well.

he looks like he hasn’t slept.

“you okay?” his voice is rough, like he hasn’t spoken in hours.

you nod. a lie.

he exhales, rubbing a hand over his jaw.

“couldn’t sleep.”

you swallow.

“me neither.”

silence.

suddenly, it snaps, something snaps.

you don’t know who moves first, but suddenly, his lips are on yours.

it’s not soft. it’s not careful. it’s desperate.

junho’s hands grip your waist, pulling you flush against him, and you clutch onto him like he’s the only thing keeping you upright. the man’s mouth moves against yours with a hunger you’ve never felt before, his fingers digging into your skin like he’s afraid to let go.

this tension, this thing between you, it’s been there for so long, even before the games. before the world burned around you and now, it’s finally boiling over.

jun-ho backs you up, step by step, until your back hits the doorframe of your bedroom. junho’s breath is hot against your lips, his hands firm on your hips.

you don’t stop him because you don’t want to stop him.

junho’s lips find yours again, and this time, it’s slower, deeper, like he’s memorizing the way you taste. your fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt, feeling his abs as you pull him closer, and closer.

he groans softly against your mouth, and something about the sound sends a shiver down your spine.

you don’t even realize that your door opened until he’s guiding you backward, at least until your knees hit the bed.

your heart pounds, your breath shaky as his lips trail along your jaw, down to your neck, his hands never leaving your body.

you close your eyes, letting yourself drown in him, in this, in everything.

with junho, you realized this is where your nightmare ends.

masterlist

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xopedri · 1 month ago

Text

pillow talk.

summary: a last-minute japan trip helps you bond with your boyfriend.

a/n: the things i would let this man to do to me. 🫦

warnings: implied nudity

“wanna go to japan?” you asked, it was a spontaneous trip since your team had just earned a week off after a successful mission.

the boy grinned, “of course.”

it was (usually) difficult to maintain relationships in the agency. however, you two were in love, and now had the opportunity to be alone together for an extended period of time.

——————

“god, i’m exhausted!” the boy dramatically yelled out as he jumped on the bed of the hotel room.

you laughed in response as you sat next to him, his body laying face down into the now-wrinkled sheets.

“cmonnn! you’re no fun.” you said as you shook hyun-jun to get him up.

“we have to take a bath y’know.” you added, being met with him immediately jumping up.

“we, as in— together?” he replied, his signature smirk on his pretty face as he looked at you. it almost convinced you to go along with it.

you playfully slapped his shoulder. “you perv!” you yelled out with a laugh, being met with him letting out a dramatic sigh and another dive into the warm embrace of the bedsheets.

you set your luggage down and after a few minutes, laid next to him, smiling as you did so.

“i might take you up on that offer.” you said, immediately causing the boy to turn to look straight at you.

“seriously?” he asked you, the grin on his face growing every passing second.

you laughed as you nodded, him jumping up and grabbing a towel in response.

you both got into the bathtub, setting the scene with candles, wine, and dimmed lights. with how busy your lives were, it was hard to get those cliché romantic movie-like moments.

“comfy?” your boyfriend asked you, smiling down at you.

“yeah, this is nice,” you replied, returning his smile. you were lying on hyun-jun, his arms wrapped around your waist; the closeness of your bodies made it feel all the more intimate.

“are you okay like that?” you asked, fidgeting around slightly before the boy held you still.

“i’m okay, don’t worry.” hyun-jun reassured you, grinning as he quietly laughed.

you smiled as you took a sip of wine. “i’m glad we’re doing this.” you spoke.

your job was stressful, so relaxing in a different country without any responsibilities was like weight off of your shoulders.

after a moment, hyun-jun spoke again. “i love you, y/n, a lot. it’s refreshing to be here with you. with no worries.”

you smiled at those words, his hand gently encapsulating yours as he used his free hand to gently caress your skin.

he carefully moved your chin up toward him to kiss you, his lips locking onto yours for a few moments before pulling away to simply admire you.

“you’re beautiful.” he mumbled just above a whisper, his face now leaning into the nape of your neck.

“so are you.” you said back, smiling softly as you moved and gave him a soft peck on the lips.

“you flatter me.” hyun-jun joked, you laughing softly alongside him.

a few more moments of comfortable silence, and you both ended up in the large bed of the hotel room.

you laid your head onto hyun-jun’s chest, his hand wandering up and down your bare back as you mindlessly traced shapes onto the soft skin of his abdomen.

this was one of the rare moments where you had nothing to stress about; your focus was only on him, the love of your life.

everything that took you to this current moment was worth it.

after a few moments, hyun-jun broke the silence.

“so— how does five sound?”

“five what?”

“five babies.” he answered, his big grin growing as he looked at you.

thank you for enjoying my work! 💕

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sensationallysangwoo · 1 month ago

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🪩ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀʀᴛʏ: ʜᴡᴀɴɢ ᴊᴜɴ-ʜᴏ x ɢᴇɴᴅᴇʀ ɴᴇᴜᴛʀᴀʟ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ🪩

ᴊᴜɴ-ʜᴏ ᴛᴀᴋᴇꜱ ᴄᴀʀᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴀ ᴅʀᴜɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀ ᴀ ʟᴏɴɢ ɴɪɢʜᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴄᴇʟᴇʙʀᴀᴛɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʙᴇꜱᴛ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅ’ꜱ ʙɪʀᴛʜᴅᴀʏ. ᴘᴜʀᴇ ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ 💜🎆

💜🤍💜🤍💜🤍💜🤍💜🤍💜🤍💜🤍

Bass assaults your eardrums as your eyes soak in the flashes of pink, blue, and green strobes. You’re intoxicated. Drunkenly grabbing onto your friend, you strain your voice to shout to them, signaling that you are ready to go.

It’s your best friend’s 25th birthday party. You are full of booze, room-temperature snacks that have been sitting out since God knows when, and secondhand smoke. Your vision is shaky. Legs are wobbly. You know you’re not okay to drive.

Jun-Ho knows you are here. He works late at the station tonight and could not make it but he told you to have fun and call him if you needed a ride home. Besides, he’s not much of a party person at all anyways. “Enjoy yourself tonight my love! Be safe and call me if you need anything!” He said to you sweetly before he left for work early this morning.

Jun-Ho trusts you more than anyone. He loves you so much that his heart in his chest practically belongs to you. He knows you can go have fun with your friends and you would never, ever do anything to hurt your relationship with him. He’s the definition of support, stability and love.

You pull out your phone. Your vision shakes and you struggle to find Jun-Ho’s contact. You way overdid it tonight. You’ll feel this in the morning.

“Heyyyy babe can you come pick me upppp? I’m ready to go” you slurred.

Jun-Ho smiled widely, his heart becoming giddy at the sound of your voice. He’s absolutely obsessed with you. “Of course I will come get you darling” he chuckles. “I will be there in about 15 minutes.”

Jun-Ho’s black car pulls up and you stumble out to him. He gets out and opens the passenger door for you. His gentlemanly ways never fail to make your heart melt. “Looks like someone had fun! Come here sweetheart. Look at you, all dolled up. I’m such a lucky man.” Jun-Ho beams before leaning in to kiss you. You giggle and throw your arms around his neck, kissing his soft lips back.

As you two drive back home, you were telling him all about the party and any of the latest drama he needed to catch up on. While listening to you, he smiles to himself. The sound of your voice is his absolute favorite thing in the whole world.

You two arrive home and Jun-Ho walks around the car to open your door, as he always does. You’re surprised to find him picking you up out of the car and carrying you into the house while both of your laughter echoes into the night.

He carries you upstairs and sets you on the bed. Giggling between kisses, he helps you into your favorite warm PJ’s. “I’ll be right back, my darling.” He quickly bounds down the stairs and then up again with a glass of water and your favorite snack.

He wraps you in a warm blanket and pulls you onto his lap. His comforting embrace makes you feel like the most loved and cared for person in the world. You wrap your arms around his neck and bury your face in his shoulder, breathing in his masculine scent. He lovingly rubs your back with his strong hands as your breathing slows.

You feel your eyelids start to sink as his soft lips graze the top of your head. The fact that you have Jun-Ho’s arms as your own personal sanctuary is something you’re indescribably grateful for. You drift off into sleep, dreaming of forever with Jun-Ho.

💜🤍💜🤍💜🤍💜🤍💜🤍💜🤍💜🤍

I forgot how much I love writing Jun-Ho he’s just like me fr🥺 I do love me a sweet character with a soft heart . Let me know if you guys want more!!

#squid game #squid game 2 #squid game fanfic #squid game fanfiction #hwang jun ho #hwang Jun ho x reader #hwang Jun ho x you #Hwang Jun ho fanfic #hwang in ho #hwang in ho x reader #wi ha joon

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pizzaandcoffeeintherain · 2 months ago

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Jun Ho x Reader Part 1

For @penny44224 as requested

Rating: adult themes

With a tap of the card, Jun Ho opened the door to the luxury hotel suite. You followed him in and closed the door with your foot. He placed the groceries on the kitchen counter and you took hold of his hand, leading him to the bedroom.

As soon as you were in, he turned you around and looked at you in the eyes, and you started walking backwards. He had his hands on your upper arms and when your legs reached the bed, he softly ran his hands down your arms, he grazed your fingers, creating tingliness.

You interlaced your fingers with his and he pulled you in closer. Without warning, he scooped you up and made it onto the bed on his knees, shuffling to the centre and placing you down on the silky smooth bedding, your head resting on a soft pillow.

You looked up at the large mirrored tiles on the ceiling which would later reflect the sensual scenes of your love making and caresses. Your ethereal blue knee length dress still covered you and your soft hair lay under your head, spread around your shoulders. Jun Ho in his crisp white shirt and black pants hovered over you, legs on either side, resting on his forearms.

He brushed his lips up your cheek and moved a strand of your hair behind your ears.

#jun ho x reader #wi ha joon #fanfic #squid game fanfic #squid game #wi ha jun

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burningembers91 · 1 month ago

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The Gangster's Wife - Hwang Jun-Ho x Fem!Reader (NSFW)

Follow up piece to:

Sleeping With the Enemy

Please note that this storyline will deal with situations depicting domestic violence.

Synopsis: As your relationship with Hwang Jun-Ho deepens, your husband becomes suspicious

It was getting late, the sun beginning to set in a blaze of colour that stained the sky red. You shouldn’t be here, you should be at home, playing the ever-doting wife, waiting for her husband to return. But you couldn’t bring yourself to leave, couldn’t seemed to tear yourself away from the man nestled between your thighs. Hwang Jun-Ho traced the most exquisite circles over your clit with his tongue, his fingers softly stroking your sensitive core. Your fingers entwined in his hair, holding him in place as you arched your hips further into his touch; you couldn’t leave yet. Every day you spent with him, you found it harder to leave, found it harder to return to a man who didn’t love you like Jun-Ho did. Your ragged, shaking moans intensified, culminating in a sound that would bring a God to his knees as you came.

His lips trailed their way up your body, his tongue tracing a line from your breasts to your collarbone. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he pulled you close, taking in every inch of your perfect features. “We need to get you home,” he whispered, peppering a line of kisses along your jaw. He didn’t want you to go, he couldn’t keep you safe when you were at home. He spent every moment apart from you worrying for your safety. He wished he could take you somewhere far from the city, somewhere where no one could hurt you. “Five more minutes,” you begged, “please. I need you one more time.” Jun-Ho could never resist you, could never deny you anything. He made love to you again, his lips swallowing your moans as your trembled against him.

He dropped you back at your designated meet up spot, leaving you to take a taxi home. You would pretend you’d been out all day shopping, your arms ladened down with bags of designer clothes and accessories. “Until next time,” you smiled sadly. You never quite knew when you’d see him again, your meets up depending entirely on your husband’s schedule. He’d been spending more time at home lately, hosting more meetings in his office. You’d grown worried that he perhaps suspected something, that he was keeping a closer eye on your because he knew you were up to something. You knew you should care about getting caught; your husband was a dangerous man who wouldn’t hesitate to inflict on you a punishment far worse than death if he found out you were cheating, but you were powerless to resist the detective who’d been assigned to your case. You never imagined that by going to the police for help, you’d have fallen so maddeningly in love with the man tasked with bringing down your husband.

The taxi ride home felt like an age, your mind whirring with thoughts of Jun-Ho. You longed for the day when you didn’t have to sneak around, when you didn’t need to be apart. You’d spent so long being mistreated by your husband, and Jun-Ho had showed you love that you never knew was possible. What you had with him, that was real love. What you had with your husband was built on a foundation of fear and intimidation. You’d spent too many years cowering in his shadow, locked in a vicious cycle of beatings, apologies, expensive gifts and then more beatings. You knew you were doomed to repeat this nightmare until you died of old age, or he killed you. That was why you went to the police for help, not because of the harm he was doing to the others, but because you were scared of dying. Of course, you hated the way he prayed on innocent victims, the way he took whatever he wanted regardless of the pain he inflicted. But you were terrified of having your life cut short. Of having it ended by someone who was supposed to love and protect you. That was no life for anyone. Now that you’d experienced what real love was supposed to feel like, you were more determined than ever to get out.

You arrived home, dropping your bags in the hallway before padding through to the kitchen for a glass of wine. You didn’t notice your husband, not until you’d taken a large sip of Sauvignon Blanc. He was sitting at the kitchen island, silent and unmoving. “Where have you been?” He asked quietly. He had such a presence about him, such an ominous aura and you could feel your hands start to shake. “I was shopping,” you lied, not daring to meet his eyes.

Pushing himself off his stool, he casually walked over to you. The tension is in the air was palpable, the fear rising through you like a wildfire. “Why is your lipstick smudged?” he asked, running his thumb roughly over your lips, smearing the berry-red colour down your chin. “I had a burger for lunch. Must have smudged while I was eating.” You closed your eyes against the fear, hoping that if you kept them closed long enough, he’d just leave you alone. Instead, he pushed himself into you, enjoying the terrifying hold he had over you. “I can smell his cheap cologne,” your husband growled, backing you into the fridge with a force that knocked the breath from your lungs. He didn’t say another word, leaving you to tremble in the kitchen like a scared little mouse. He’d come back later, when the fear had really set in. He’d show you what happened when you disrespected him.

You stood on the cold tiled floor, clutching the countertop for support. Your head span, your heartbeat pounding in your ears. Grabbing your phone, you sent two words to Jun-Ho. Two simple words that made every ounce of colour drain from his face. He knows.

#squid game #squid game 2 #squid game x reader #squid game fanfic #squid game x you #squid game smut #squid game season 2 #hwang jun ho x you #hwang jun ho smut #hwang jun ho x reader #hwang jun ho #wi ha joon

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darksisterrr · 1 month ago

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𝑳𝑨 𝑵𝑶𝑪𝑯𝑬 𝑫𝑬 𝑯𝑨𝑳𝑳𝑶𝑾𝑬𝑬𝑵 +18 | DOS DISPAROS (PT 2)

𝘎𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦/𝘛𝘢𝘨𝘴: 𝘈𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵, 𝘙𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦, 𝘌𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘊𝘰𝘯𝘧𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘵, 𝘚𝘭𝘰𝘸-𝘣𝘶𝘳𝘯.

𝘗𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨: 𝘏𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘨 𝘑𝘶𝘯-𝘩𝘰 𝘹 (𝘛/𝘕)

𝘞𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: 𝘔𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘴 𝘥𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘶𝘮𝘢, 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘥𝘢𝘴 𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘤𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘴, 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘤𝘶𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘢𝘴, 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘢𝘤𝘪𝘰́𝘯 𝘢𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘥𝘢, 𝘴𝘦𝘹𝘰, 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘰́𝘯.

No olviden dar like y repostear para que más personitas lean 💕

----------------------------------------------------

El año después de la tragedia en la isla había sido una prueba constante para Jun-ho y (T/N). El peso de lo vivido no se desvaneció con su rescate; al contrario, parecía anclar sus almas a esa maldita experiencia, arrastrándolos al abismo cada vez que intentaban respirar con normalidad.

Jun-ho apenas hablaba sobre lo que ocurrió. El disparo de su hermano había dejado una cicatriz profunda en su pecho, no solo física, sino emocional. Aunque sobrevivió al balazo y a la caída, el dolor real provenía de saber que In-ho, su único hermano, había elegido el camino de la oscuridad. Su frustración, su rabia, se volcaba en una rutina exhaustiva de preparación. Pasaba horas entrenando su cuerpo herido, revisando archivos y mapas, siempre con el rostro endurecido.

(T/N) no era muy diferente. Tras salir del hospital, se enfocó completamente en la misión. Su herida tardó en sanar, dejando una leves secuelas que ella se negaba a reconocer. Pasaba las noches estudiando los movimientos de los organizadores de los juegos, memorizando nombres y conexiones. Pero, a diferencia de Jun-ho, (T/N) no ocultaba su dolor. Era transparente en su rabia, en su frustración, y en cómo las pesadillas la atormentaban cada noche. La caída al mar, el frío que la atravesó, el miedo de perderlo... todo volvía como una tormenta incontrolable.

Aunque ambos intentaban seguir adelante, los fantasmas de la isla los perseguían en cada esquina. La relación entre ellos comenzó a tensarse, no por falta de amor, sino por el peso de la culpa compartida. Jun-ho no podía dejar de reprocharse por no haber protegido mejor a (T/N). Ella, por su parte, se culpaba por no haber sido más fuerte cuando lo necesitaba.

Ahora, mientras preparaban la misión para infiltrarse en la fiesta de disfraces, esa tensión explotó.

(T/N) estaba de pie frente al pequeño espejo del motel, ajustando la ropa que llevaría puesta. Jun-ho, sentado al borde de la cama, miraba en silencio, su mandíbula apretada. Finalmente, no pudo más.

—Esto es una locura, (T/N). No deberías venir —soltó, su tono más cortante de lo que pretendía.

Ella se giró lentamente, cruzando los brazos. —¿Otra vez con eso? Ya lo hemos hablado, Jun-ho. No voy a quedarme atrás.

—No entiendes. No es una discusión. ¡No voy a arriesgarte de nuevo! —se puso de pie, alzando ligeramente la voz.

—¿Arriesgarme de nuevo? ¿Crees que tú tienes la única palabra en esto? —respondió, acercándose a él con los ojos encendidos.

—¡Sí! Porque si algo te pasa otra vez, no voy a poder soportarlo.

Su confesión fue como un golpe en el pecho, pero no suavizó la mirada de (T/N). —¿Y qué hay de mí? ¿Crees que no me preocupa cada vez que sales ahí fuera? ¿Que no me duele verte cargar con todo esto solo porque crees que tienes que protegerme?

Jun-ho pasó las manos por su cabello, desesperado. —Es diferente. Yo elegí esto. Tú no tienes que hacerlo.

—¡Sí lo elegí! —gritó, dando un paso más hacia él—. Elegí quedarme contigo, elegí luchar por las vidas que destruyeron. Elegí no quedarme de brazos cruzados mientras siguen matando a personas inocentes.

La habitación quedó en silencio por un momento, solo roto por el sonido de su respiración agitada. (T/N) bajó la mirada, sus hombros temblando ligeramente.

—No quiero perderte, Jun-ho. Pero no puedo ser quien te detenga de hacer lo que tienes que hacer... y tú tampoco puedes detenerme a mí.

Su sinceridad lo desarmó. Jun-ho cerró los ojos, luchando con las emociones que llevaba reprimiendo durante meses. No quería admitirlo, pero la idea de perderla otra vez lo aterrorizaba.

Cuando abrió los ojos, la encontró mirándolo con la misma intensidad, pero esta vez con un rastro de lágrimas en los suyos.

—Te amo, Jun-ho —susurró—. Pero no puedo ser la razón por la que falles en esto.

Fue entonces cuando todo se desmoronó en su interior. Con un movimiento rápido, la tomó del rostro y la besó. No fue un beso suave ni calmado; fue desesperado, cargado de la rabia, el miedo y el amor que no podía expresar con palabras. (T/N) respondió con la misma intensidad, como si ese beso pudiera sanar todas las heridas que ambos cargaban.

La discusión, las heridas, el miedo... todo se desvaneció mientras se aferraban el uno al otro en la pequeña habitación, buscando consuelo en el único lugar donde podían encontrarlo: juntos.

Las grandes manos de Jun-ho comenzaban a masajear los senos de (T/N) mientras hundía su cabeza en el cuello de la mujer, succionaba su piel con suavidad y deseo, las manos de ella acariciaban el cabello del hombre tratando de sentirlo más cerca, quería que aquel momento nunca acabara.

Con movimientos precisos y rápidos el quito el jean de su pareja dejando a la vista una ropa interior de encaje negro, Jun-ho amaba ese tipo de conjuntos de lencería qué su novia usaba a diario, el solía pagarle cada uno de ellos con la intención de que ella le modelara en un espectáculo erotico.

—Uff..., extrañare tanto este coñito—una suave palmada impacto en el lugar nombrado y sin perder un segundo más comenzó a estimularla.

—Cuando esto termine, espero que nos mudemos a una hermosa casa en las montañas...—con la respiración entrecortada (T/N) hablo mirándolo a los ojos.

Una risita salió de los labios de Jun-ho seguido de un asentimiento, observaba la figura de su mujer sentada en el escritorio y sudando de la excitación qué sus dedos le causaban y una idea fugaz recorrió su mente haciéndolo tensarse. El hombre bajo el cierre de su pantalón y saco su verga erecta y palpitante de su ropa interior; no quería lastimar a (T/N) por lo que con saliba la lubrico y comenzó a estimularse a si mismo un poco, para luego agarrar a su pareja del cuello contándole la respiración y dándole un beso intenso.

—Si te pierdo me perderé a mi mismo para siempre, no puedo vivir sin ti y no soporto la idea de verte lastimada por esos bastardos.

Antes siquiera de que (T/N) pudiera responder el grueso miembro masculino de su novio ingreso de manera brusca y rapida dejándola sin aliento. Abrazó por los hombros a Jun-ho y comenzó a gemir con intensidad mordiendole la piel y besandole el cuello.

Sus movimientos eran rápidos y fuertes, el glande chocaba con el fondo de la vagina haciendo que en cada estocada un quejido leve saliera de sus labios, las fuertes manos de Jun-ho alzaron el trasero de (T/N) y separo sus nalgas comenzando a follarsela como un animal, no quería dejarla, no quería separarse de ella y a toda costa deseaba protegerla, pero ella no lo permitía.

Logro identificar cuando su novia llegó al orgasmo porque su cuerpo se debilito y recostó su cabeza en su hombro gimiendo con cansancio y suavidad, aún así su ritmo no cambió y cuando el derramó su semilla en el coño de (T/N) surpiro de placer y la llevo en brazos hacia la cama recostandola en el colchón y dejando muchos besos por toda su cara, de la misma forma acariciaba con delicadeza la piel del cuerpo de ella.

—Quédate aquí, iré por algo para limpiarte—indicó Jun-ho refiriéndose al semen que escurría del coño de (T/N).

Jun-ho entro al baño y se observó fijamente en el espejo, una lágrima resbaló por su mejilla sintiendo culpa, pero no podía echarse atrás, debía protegerla a toda costa, así que a pasos largos y rápidos le echo un último vistazo a (T/N) y salió del cuarto dando un portazo y comenzando a dejarla encerrada con llave en la habitación.

La mujer se dio cuenta de lo que estaba pasando y comenzó a golpear la puerta mientras gritaba de rabia, se sentía triste y traicionada.

—¡Jun-ho! ¡No puedes decidir por mi!—con sus puños golpeaba una y otra vez la madera de la puerta—¡Me estas traicionando!

Al otro lado Hwang Jun-ho cerraba sus ojos con culpa mientras se recostaba en la pared contraria a la de su habitación con (T/N), para el eso había sido lo correcto, y esperaba que ella comprendiera.

—¡¡¡Abre la maldita puerta!!! ¡¡¡Ábrela!!!—gritó con furia (T/N) comenzando a llorar de impotencia.

—Vendré por ti mañana, mi vida..., lo juro, solo quiero protegerte.

Cegada de la ira, (T/N) buscaba la manera de salir de aquel lugar, intentó derribar la puerta pero muchos de sus intentos eran nulos, se asomó por la ventana, pero lo único que vio fue que se arriesgaría a una gran caída si siquiera intentaba hacerlo.

Dos voces se unieron a lo que estaba ocurriendo, voces familiares.

Seong Gi-hun y Choi Woo-seok.

(T/N) volvió a acercarse a la puerta tratando de descifrar si sus amigos estaban allí o solo era su imaginación.

—¿Qué sucedió oficial?—inquirió el más risueño de los tres— Hace algunos momentos estaban muy... felices.

—Estoy protegiéndola, no quiero que nada le pase—respondió él detective mirando a los dos hombres a su par.

Un golpe fuerte y seco resonó otra vez y con más rabia de la que ya tenia (T/N) pateo la puerta con fuerza.

—¡Gi-hun! ¡Sácame de aquí!—exclamó con la voz rota golpeando una vez más, pero con menos fuerza que las anteriores—No pueden dejarme aquí..., yo también quiero ayudar, tengo el derecho a ayudarlos..., yo también estuve allí.

Jun-ho negó hacia Gi-hun quien consideraba abrir la puerta.

—Gi-hun..., no puedes dejarme aquí—comenzó a hablar ella ya con un llanto prominente de la impotencia que sentía—, los dos estuvimos en ese infierno, yo también quiero vengar a Ali, a Sae-byeok...—intentó convencerlo—, no me pueden hacer esto...

—Lo siento (T/N)... Es lo mejor para ti—Gi-hun le dio la razón a Jun-ho—. Vamonos, ya casi es hora.

Un grito de rabia y más puños y patadas a la madera fue lo último que escucho Hwang Jun-ho antes de alejarse del dormitorio donde había dejado encerrada al amor de su vida.

—Perdóname, pero no lo entenderías...

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