hwang junho who’s the most protective boyfriend you’ve ever had, and he’s proud of that title! and even though you like to tease him and pretend it annoys you, you secretly really love it and don’t want him to ever change <3
like listen, he’s a cop, it’s sort of a given that he’s gonna be at least a little protective of everyone he’s close with. it’s been hammered into junho’s instincts to protect those around him, but after everything that’s happened with his brother and discovering the games, he can’t risk anything happening to you. you’re his everything, and if you ever got hurt under his watch — even just a little bit — he wouldn’t know what to do with himself.
junho’s protectiveness shows itself in all the little things. like, how he always follows the sidewalk rule, walking on the side nearest the road, shielding you from passing traffic with his body. he does it unconsciously at first — stepping around you if you’re on the outer edge of the sidewalk, nudging you away to take your place. after a while of this, of him gently correcting you every time you accidentally walk on the outer edge, you get used to it and fall into the habit of walking on the “safe side” of the sidewalk, as he calls it.
also, junho always always takes the side of the bed closest to the door. call him paranoid, but he’s certain he could protect you if any danger came through the door while you were sleeping. he feels safer sleeping nearest the door, with his body shielding yours from the entrance. junho also tends to sleep with his arms locked around you, holding you to his chest — it’s not very practical, but it makes him feel safer nonetheless. he’ll admit he’s maybe overdoing it just a little bit, but sue him if he wants to protect the best thing that’s ever happened to him.
junho’s quite touchy too when you’re out together — not in an overbearing way, not in a pda way, and not in a super obvious way, either. just in the way that he feels he needs to have a hand on you, or his arm around you, in case anything happens, so he can pull you to safety as quickly as possible. he’s very subtle about it — just a big hand on the small of your back at the grocery store, or his arm curved around your waist at the pub. his hand on your thigh while he drives, or his fingers interlocked with yours when he takes you out for dinner. it’s subtle, almost like he does it without realising it, and somehow that makes it even more endearing.
of course, with junho being a cop, he makes sure you know (and follow) all the proper safety precautions. he’s well aware of how criminals work and tries his best to equip you with the right protection. if you don’t live with him, he’s constantly asking if your security cameras and alarms are all working and up to speed — in fact, he’ll come over and check them himself, just to be safe. he makes you promise to have your phone on you at all times, and prefers you have your location on when you’re not with him. he buys you a charger to keep in your car, and a portable charger for your bag, so you don’t ever run out of battery at a bad time. he probably makes you carry pepper spray in your bag, too, though he hopes you’ll never have to use it.
junho tries his best not to be overbearing, and he succeeds for the most part. he’s quietly protective, subtly looking out for you at all times. he never pushes it too much, and he respects you enough to know you can look after yourself just fine. sometimes though, you’ll tease him — giggling when he stands a little too close in the line at the grocery store, or telling him, “no one’s gonna break in, I have nothing worth stealing,” with an eye roll while he checks your alarms for the second time in one week. but it’s always lighthearted, and if anything, junho’s convinced you tease him because his protectiveness makes you flustered, and you’ve got no other way to hide how it makes you feel. though, that could just be his ego talking.
if you asked junho to stop, he would. he’d do anything you asked, clearly. but you don’t ever ask him to stop. you like that he protects you — it makes you feel special, and you wouldn’t trade him for the world <3
-
thank u for reading, reblogs are appreciated! also my request are open for junho hehe x
"Can you let me go to the bathroom?" you asked at 3 am to the pink guard. "No" he coldy replied. "Please, I really need to go...it's a girl stuff" the guard sighed "Fine, but I have to come with you".
You scoffed and started following the guard in the hall to the ladies bathroom. "Make it fast" he staid next to the door. "Don't you wanna join me?" you started getting closer to him and put your hands on his chest. You knew it was him, the guard that protected you from the others players when they were trying to steal your food.
"You're going to make me lose my job" he mumbles softly, your hand starts going closer and closer to his clothed dick, he stares at one of the cameras for a little. "I never liked it that much tho" he pushes you inside of the bathroom, his hands covered by black gloves start taking your clothes off. "You have to be really silent, can you do that, doll?" you nodded as he took his gloves off, followed by his pink jacket, his black shirt underneath and his belt. You couldn't stop seeing his body, so big, so tall, so toned, muscular.
Now he has his pants at the bottom of his knees and without any prep he starts pounding your pussy from the back, you softly moan as he pulls your hair, his hand hits your mouth and covers it as his hips don't miss a beat.
It was so vulgar, a man working for the people who want to kill you, thrusting into you, the obscene sound of sweaty skin slapping again skin, his grunts. In missionary you were on top of the sink and you had to ask him something, you knew damn well he was going to say no, but you asked anyways.
"Take that shit off" you moaned "The mask, off" you demanded, he would've say no, but he was so horny and felt something especial, maybe it was the adrenaline of the moment but he kept thrusting into your pussy as his hands went to his head, taking off the mask.
And fuck. Fuck. He was so pretty, the mask hitted the ground, he kept pounding into you, you pulled his hair now and pulled him in for a kiss.
"Fuck" he groaned "Where do you want me to cum, doll?" he asked so polite, you wanted to fusionate his body with your, you held his shoulders to give yourself more stability. "Inside" you mumbled "I'm going to die inside of here anyway".
a/n: i i haven’t written much for jun-ho so feedback is always appreciated! read the full request here :)
˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊
it was evident that your boyfriend had been stressed with work lately. between quitting his job at the police station and helping gi-hun chase down a mysterious recruiter, working on weekends turned into working late nights and early mornings, and to be honest, you were feeling neglected. jun-ho knew, and he had been constantly apologizing, coming home with small gifts to make up for his busy schedule.
tonight was special, however. it was your first date night in a while and jun-ho had insisted on taking you to a fancy restaurant. he was waiting for you to finish getting ready, which you almost were. slipping into a long black dress that hugged your curves perfectly - and one of his favorite’s on you - and finishing the look with a pair of heels and your favorite earrings, you made your way to the living room, where jun-ho was sprawled on the couch.
as soon as he saw you, he perked up, getting up and straightening his suit. he looked incredibly handsome in his new suit, hair styled and smelling of cologne for you.
“wow,” he breathed as you walked in, standing up to pull you into a kiss. “you look so beautiful. i love this dress on you.”
“that’s why i wore it,” you wink and he smiled, hand resting softly on your hip.
after a quick drive, you had arrived at the restaurant and a waiter led you to a private booth. the restaurant was luxurious - you almost felt out of place despite how you had dressed up. dinner was filled with easy conversation and you could tell how much jun-ho needed this night.
as soon as you arrived home, jun-ho pulled you in for a passionate kiss, holding you close to him. his hand brushed against your cheek softly. “you look really beautiful. i missed spending time with you.”
you blushed at his compliment, looking down at the floor, but his hand gently tilted your face back up to look at him. “i mean it. i’m sorry for being so absent these last couple of months. let me make it up to you, huh?”
before you can answer his lips were on yours and his hand was making its way down to your lower back. he guided you into the bedroom, pushing you down onto the bed. his hands roamed all over your body, removing your dress and fumbling to remove his own clothes. he placed hot kisses over your bare body, trailing them from your jaw to your neck. he paused momentarily to remove your undergarments before spreading his kisses lower, nestling between your thighs.
jun-ho placed a soft kiss on your core before getting to work. his tongue made its way through your folds before he began sucking on your clit. the sensation made you moan and he only responded by inserting two fingers into you. you were getting close and with some final movements, you came unraveled, legs shaking. jun-ho looked up at you, smiling. “my pretty girl.” he murmured.
he began stroking his semi-hard length before he slowly pushed himself into you. you pulled him close, kissing him passionately as he went deeper, inch by inch.
his movements were slow and deliberate, but they were almost painfully slow. you needed more.
“go faster,” you breathed into his ear. “please.”
he paused for a moment, cupping your face and tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. “i don’t want to hurt you.”
“you won’t,” you whispered. “i’ll tell you if you do. just please… go faster. i want you.”
he groaned at your words, closing his eyes shut for a moment. when he opened his eyes again, you noticed a look of slight worry flicker on them but it fleeted quickly. “okay.” he murmured. he adjusted himself, and moved one hand next to you on the mattress and the other to your hip, gripping you tightly.
when he thrusted into you again, this time it was faster and harder, filled with more desperation. as jun-ho’s pace quickened, you felt him continuously hit the right spot and yourself getting closer and closer as a tension built up in your core. you could tell he was getting close too, as his movements became faster, needier. you quickly became undone, feeling the knot in your core unravel. he continued thrusting into you, and your whines were enough for him to finish, coming inside you.
he pulled out with a groan, rolling over to the other side of the bed, laying next to you. he reached over to cup your face, kissing you slowly. “i had a good time tonight,” he murmured. “thank you.”
Summary: after the island explodes, Junho comes back home but he still isn't over the games. You get divorced, and then the baby appears... he must assume his new responsibility.
TW: kinda angst, death of secondary character, mention of divorce, mention of miscarriage, single father Junho, broken couple.
Light smut at the end.
The games are over.
The games are over.
The games are over.
So why does he feel so miserable?
It’s been maybe five months, Junho wanders through the apartment, lost in his mind, his life adrift. He had spent years on a meaningless mission, in a fatal outcome that had cost him his job and his marriage. He checks his phone, hoping for a message from you, but his inbox is full of other trivialities: his boss offering him a position, his mother asking if he’s eaten in the past few days, his lawyer sending the final details of the divorce.
He puts on jeans and a jacket, grabs an umbrella, and leaves the apartment, the door clicking in the hallway, followed by the sound of your own door’s mechanisms syncing with his. He shivers at the sound of your steps, your feet dragging across the polished floor, and the rustle of items in your bag as you sling it over your shoulder.
You don’t say anything; words have no meaning, any attempt to share even a gesture was carried away by the wind of the past month. Junho walks beside you in the hallway, far enough not to bother you, but close enough to make you feel his presence, his scent, his desperation. The elevator opens in front of both of you, the doors closing, stifling any trace of hope in the tiny cabin, though Junho tries to start a conversation, you look away, making your stance clear.
you wait for the same bus at the stop; Junho had to get rid of his car after repeatedly refusing a regular job with the police, stubbornness taking its toll, though he doesn’t mind at all, any everyday problem is trivial to him after all he’s seen. you get on the bus, both standing; you lean on a pole, staring out the window while he watches you. Everything else seems insignificant, except you, strictly essential to him.
He refuses to look at you as a stranger, to act in a dance he doesn’t want to be part of, ignoring everything that happened between both of you, no, everything he put you through. He swallows hard, his throat burning with all the unsaid things stuck inside, all the apologies repeated to exhaustion.
His apartment feels empty, always his, but you had become substantial in recent years, and it felt incomplete without you. He reads carefully the paper in his hands; the annulled marriage is a fact, a painful truth, a reminder of all his failures as a husband and lover. Perhaps it had been too much, perhaps even after finally finding Inho he had grown more distant, almost traumatized by the helplessness of the situation. Junho sought answers, even after the island explosion, even after his brother refused contact, he remained stubborn, unwilling to let it all go. Not even Gihun’s death had stopped him; it had only made things worse.
Depression, disappointment, his hands tied, he said it often, ignoring his duties at home, barely returning at night, locked in his own world of enigmas, much worse than before. You didn’t even see him at breakfast or dinner; the space beside you empty in the morning, with no explanation, because it was implied, you knew what he was doing, who he was looking for. He chased ghosts already distant, denying reality, clinging to the few clues and companions left. And then his mother’s death, the last remnant of his broken family.
“I have nothing left,” Junho said one afternoon, melancholy, trapped in his own misery. Your heart shrinks, do you mean nothing to him?
“You have me,” you stroked his shoulder, but he seemed not to notice; you had become invisible to him, and that created a deep wound.
You tried to be patient when the marriage seemed to fall apart, careful in how you spoke, showing him he still had a life beyond that perverse circus of millionaires; you talk about your work, his, the house, even starting a family -but Junho didn’t want children, he refuses a normal life, because he doesn’t deserve it, not after his ineptitudes, not after letting his own family collapse. But you longed for it, wanting to be part of a project that reminded you both that your world wasn’t so bad if the right choices were made. You desperately wished for a small sign of mutual love, something to focus on the truly important, whatever that was, something that would help him finally forget about the games and his brother, something to ease his obsession and past resentment.
You hadn’t thought about it before; the idea of having children had often scared you, the responsibility overwhelming, but after your promotion at work and the birth of your best friend’s child, your perspective changed, you saw an opportunity to save your marriage, started seeing Junho differently, less as a lover, more as a partner.
You had supported each other over the years, and the idea seemed tempting, only if it were with him. But he flatly refused, and that only worsened the invisible tension between you, especially after the sharp pain in your abdomen one afternoon. You ended up in a hospital, you had had a miscarriage, and didn’t even know you were pregnant… and you thought your child was gone because its father didn’t want it, because you were too disappointed in his refusal, in his self-pity.
You had patience, maybe too much; finally you had broken, like him, but unlike Junho, you couldn’t rely on someone fully sane.
The games had done their job: breaking everyone involved, and this time, in one way or another, it had caught you too. The divorce had been your final move, and he is suffering the final blow, lying on his worn sofa, in his empty apartment, and maybe this would bring him back to reality, being something like his last chance to regain sanity.
******
A month later, routine has descended upon Junho again, the harsh reality falling on his shoulders, unemployed, with Woosik in his car after leaving prison, ideas for an association. He smiles at the thought; maybe new horizons could bring him some stability. He feels happy, or at least not so miserable, sensing some order forming in his life, rebuilding all that was broken. He had even exchanged a few words with you in the city without being too awkward; distance had healed something between you, especially since you moved out of the building.
But like a curse, when he returns to his apartment the world falls on him again, because Inho was very good with jokes, or very cruel with gifts. A crib in his apartment, the baby inside with a card with her name. Merciless and in very poor taste, his brother is a monster, as you had once said. And how brutal irony can be, because at least Inho could have left the baby with his ex-sister-in-law, you, in the hands of someone who wanted children. Thousands of doubts in his mind, storms of possible outcomes, situations where his brother might have thought this was a good idea. The card. The ATM screen reveals the card’s amount is huge, enough to support the baby. And yet, he feels it’s an excessive burden; maybe if his mother were alive she’d know what to do, maybe she herself would have cared for the girl if she thought she was Inho’s.
He returns to the apartment; the baby looks at him with serene eyes, lips pressed, hands fluttering delicately when she sees him, letting out a laugh. Did Inho take care of her all this time and remind her of him? Why would he stay with player 222’s daughter? How would he pass her off as his… niece? He sits on the sofa, elbows on knees, hands clasped behind his neck, exasperated and lost. He has aged too much in the past year; this girl could be his ruin.
A whimper pulls him from his thoughts, the baby stirs in the crib, and Junho knows what he needs. Inho, though a bastard, is careful, leaving countless supplies in a couple of suitcases. The bottle is ready, but Junho doesn’t know if the taste is right, if the temperature is correct, the texture… How did Inho know all this? Maybe because he cared for him when he was born, or had help from one of his twisted henchmen. A YouTube tutorial could save him. Junho isn’t dumb, just distracted, maybe a bit biased on family matters, but this goes beyond his understanding, his mundane daily life -it’s crucial, maybe permanent.
At night, he fears the worst, because he sleeps heavily, because his treatment has helped with the nightmares that stole sleep from both of you over the years, because the timing is off with the events of his life. He rocks the baby in the crib, playing a lullaby on his phone, praying she falls asleep. And she does, smiling as her eyes close, chest rising and falling with deep breaths. He lies on his bed, crib still in motion beside him. He stares at the ceiling, hands on his chest, holding his phone, thinking about writing to you, asking for help, but what would you say after all these months apart? Maybe you’re even seeing someone, and the thought gnaws at his heart. Vagabond thoughts won’t leave him; this isn’t the life he imagined, not the life he had worked for years to achieve.
It shouldn’t be this way; everything had collapsed long ago, maybe since his sister-in-law had fallen ill, the butterfly effect that broke his family, following Inho’s steps, now destroying his own marriage -a precise pattern of destruction among the Hwang brothers. He closes his eyes tightly, realizing he has nothing left, no mother, brother, wife, or job. Friends? A few remain. Apartment, perfect condition, money… money. He opens his eyes abruptly and sits up; maybe Inho isn’t as bad as he thinks. Junho feels that hope he had years ago, the same that made him believe his brother would leave the past behind to rebuild his life, because he could have simply gotten rid of the baby, left her in an orphanage, or worse, but he had chosen to leave her in someone’s care, in his. Inho recognized his abilities, his intrinsic sensitivity, having seen him grow. And better yet, the card was in his name... was he now the official guardian of the girl?
Maybe his conjectures are wrong, maybe Inho had thought in the coldest, most malicious way possible, and yet he is optimistic, knowing that the right thing is to take care of the baby, guide her life properly. Make the decisions that would finally allow him to move forward, as you had demanded before.
He would do it; the decision was made.
*****
He is smart, it runs in his blood; he immerses himself in books, programs, videos on childcare, starts his association with Woosik, and tells him about the girl. It’s sudden, but he leaves no room for doubts, carrying the girl everywhere in a baby carrier against his chest while reading about nutrition and educational programs. He has cases, Woosik will handle them, and if he cannot, retired detective Hwang Junho will, returning as soon as possible to see his girl, his niece Minji, as he introduces her to everyone.
Time passes, Minji grows, now goes to kindergarten… and calls him “dad.” Junho’s heart melts the first time she does, as she stretches her arms for a hug. She is stubborn, like him, or like her parents, he spent years investigating them, trying to weave a credible story for when Minji would grow up, though obstacles were overwhelming, confronting them too often to be random. Inho must be behind this, but he doesn’t care, not when he has to fold girl’s clothes and arrange stuffed animals in a very pink room.
Work goes well, and Minji grows up healthy, perhaps too assertive and clever for her age, but he doesn’t worry about it; he doesn’t wish to mold her in his image, preferring to discover what kind of person his daughter could become with proper preparation, with all the money available for her education and development. He has become a bit paranoid thinking about her going to preschool. At four years old, away from home and him, he wonders if he could handle it, and is surprised when Minji lets go of his hand upon seeing the colorful tables in her classroom. Perhaps it’s not her who is affected by the new stage.
He is the single father in the classroom, the attractive young man with long silky hair, and some teachers try to pair him with a few single mothers, but he subtly refuses, inventing excuses, doing so politely enough that it doesn’t bother them. He’s the typical dad who irons Minji’s clothes, prepares special meals, and leaves her hair in perfectly styled pigtails adorned with colorful accessories. He picks her up at the end of the day and greets her with kisses on the head while she tells him about her day and he carries her in his arms.
Junho forgets she’s not his, doing so when he sees her enjoying the same food as him, scratching her nose the same way, or laughing when playing with other children at the park. Although a little tricky, he has seen her inherit traits from that hidden side of her past, from poor souls caught in situations far removed from him, almost a bad dream.
One day he waits for Minji outside school, hands in his coat rubbing near his mouth as he exhales warm breath forming fine smoke. He should buy her another coat, he thinks while combing his hair back, but his skin suddenly tingles; his heart is far more perceptive than expected. Breath catches in his throat, all sounds around him dissipate, the crackling of falling snow stops for those steps, the way she walks, her scent, each step closer, and suddenly, a subtle brush of fabric against fabric, the coats meeting first. Junho is stunned, it’s a vision; he refuses to believe what he sees is real.
The laughter, he hears it, it’s your laughter, and he sees you from behind, your hair, your figure, your walk. How long had it been? He had cut contact since the divorce and hadn’t bothered looking for you, not after Minji arrived. His heart tightens as he sees the small boy running into your arms, being held close, kisses pressed on his chubby cheeks.
“Did you miss me?” you ask the little one, but it’s Junho who answers in his mind: with all my soul, with all my being. But the trance fades as he hears Minji running to him, calling “appa,” throwing herself into his arms.
“Appa, I want ice cream,” she says enthusiastically.
“Now? It’s too cold for that, are you crazy?” Junho holds Minji’s cheeks in his hands, and they both laugh heartily.
“Junho?” your voice feels like it pierces a wound you thought had healed, the heat growing in his chest, warmth rising to his ears. He lifts his gaze to meet yours, you look at him with your head tilted and the child by your side.
Junho swallows hard, standing, holding Minji’s hand, caressing her back as if it anchors him to sanity. He says your name, his throat burning from years lost without saying it, evoking a feeling only habit could have created.
“Good to see you,” you say, tone casual, masking a bubbling enthusiasm, “I didn’t know you had a daughter.”
“Minji,” Junho says, waving his daughter’s hand, which bows politely, as well-mannered as him.
“Yukyu,” you introduce the boy, who greets the same way.
Junho’s heart melts, moved to see that you’ve moved on with your life, but it hurts to know it was without him. He stops at your face, the mature features of your cheeks, the lively eyes, and your lips, what he would give for a kiss from you… your hand… no ring. He looks at you curiously, and you seem to notice, still knowing how to read his face.
“He’s Gaeul’s, my friend from the restaurant, remember her?” your voice shows sympathy.
“Yes, of course, I recognize the smile; how is she?” Junho feels he’s regained his breath, his soul, his sanity.
“Wonderful, expecting her second child, I help with Yukyu.”
“And you, how are you?” the question conveys more than formality, and Junho doesn’t bother hiding his emotions.
“I’m fine,” you say, his serenity pleasing, yet the miserable heart beats in agony, evoking sensations thought lost. You have so much to talk about, so many doubts, so many unfinished matters… but he has a daughter; she has called him dad, and it breaks your heart knowing he gave someone else the chance he didn’t give you.
“It was good to see you, Junho,” you decide to cut ties with him because you cannot have feelings for a married man, even if you were his first wife and…
“I hope to see you again,” Junho extends his left hand, no ring, no trace of one, you meet his gaze and see him whisper, “it’s complicated.”
******
You expect everything, a one-night stand story, a fleeting relationship that left him abandoned with a daughter, but you do not expect the real story. You look at the photos on the living room table, new ones mixed with old, Minji at various birthdays with Junho and some friends you assume are from work.
“Are you working?” you ask, holding the photo in your hands, Minji’s third birthday.
“I have my own agency; it’s going well,” Junho replies while stirring something in a pot.
“I can see that,” you comment, noticing the furniture in the house, Minji’s high-quality clothes, even the school, which you know from your friend isn’t cheap. You place the frame back on the table and focus on one, the golden frame with floral engravings at the corners, the same that held your wedding photo, now keeping Minji’s first birthday. You let out a deep sigh, melancholy again; it had been long since you felt such deep emotions.
You turn to Junho, still moving around the kitchen; his hair slightly longer, shoulders broader, fit, and still agile. You don’t want to think about his physique, the memory of his hair between your fingers, or the width of his shoulders covering you in deep embraces. So you turn your gaze back to the photos, all the years un-lived, his smile widening each year, so evident that you even wonder if it was you who held him back. There are photos of his mother, friends, Inho, even the damn brother still has a space in Junho’s life while you don’t, erased like a ghost.
“Are you staying for lunch?” Junho asks, placing a tray in front of Minji.
“I wouldn’t want to intrude,” you say, but he doesn’t even look at you, absorbed in setting the table, arranging the chopsticks and spoons.
“Don’t worry, we like to eat together; sometimes we have lunch or dinner with Lu.”
“Lu?” you ask, and Junho looks at you with a wide smile.
“The neighbor across, she’s about 60 with a dog Minji plays with a lot; she taught me to cook some things,” he says, and you smile at the irony -another person in your apartment helping Junho solve his problems, another helping hand.
You sit at the table; good grandmother’s soup cannot be refused, but you do so with other intentions, because deep down, you take some pleasure in seeing Junho live a normal life. He stirs Minji’s soup while talking to her, clearly, as if she were an adult, yet delicate in his movements, like a beautiful porcelain doll, and she seems like one. Big eyes, round nose, perfectly groomed hair, rosy cheeks, very healthy. Junho had become a good father, and that pains you, the misery of not having been part of his transition.
The soup is good; you eat while watching Minji, and Junho eats while looking at you, occasionally at his daughter. The mind is treacherous, memory greedy, because he wants to carry this picture with him for the rest of his life: his daughter and his wife, sitting at a table on any dinner, a family formed by chance. But you weren’t his; you had long ceased to be, and yet it seemed all those years had blurred, lost time meaning nothing, not with you at that table. An impulse, a fire in his chest that doesn’t cease, growing as he watches you interact with Minji, or return a glance.
He admits it, he misses you, had done so for years; the emptiness he felt he could ignore, at least until you returned to him, so casually, so naturally, so destined for him, for the new version you deserved. He wouldn’t let you go, wouldn’t fail, but… would you accept him? Doubts continue as you wash the dishes, a reminder of the shared life. Junho watches you from the corner of his eye while you dry the dishes, the warmth of your presence, the closeness of your being, growing need, vitality stolen and reclaimed.
“It’s late,” you say, kitchen clean, Minji asleep, no excuses left to stay in that house, not even looking for them… or are you?
“I’ll take you,” Junho offers, almost too enthusiastically.
“I called a taxi, don’t worry.”
“At least let me walk you down,” Junho grabs your coats, hands you yours, the light touch sending shivers through you, noticing how strange his touch feels, and how slowly familiarity returns.
The sidewalk is cold, snow piled on the surface, you watching the ground, your phone occasionally, Junho’s eyes on you. Both silent. Nothing left to say, doubts resolved, story told, cycle closed (not really).
“I’d like to see you again,” says Junho, soft gaze, dark eyes on you, lips a line containing uncertainty.
“Me too,” you whisper, unsure but excited, without even looking at him.
Junho’s fingers lift your chin, directing your face to him, to his serene features framed by black strands, snow falling lightly on his forehead. For a moment, everything silences, time stops, the light is on him, the moon illuminating both of you, in that small intimate moment, in a bubble of unspoken things, contained desires. Junho watches you with substantial devotion, anxious for more, so this encounter isn’t fleeting, to have more of these moments, more opportunities, more… closure, or maybe a restart.
“I ruined you,” he says, his fingers still holding your chin, thumb brushing the curve of your lip, “let me rebuild you.”
It’s close and familiar, the touch, the words, the intention, memories unearthed, forgotten sensations, the rush of your mind and stomach about to overflow. There’s pleading in his voice, vehemence in his gaze, defeat and a spark of courage, a nascent glimpse of the Junho you had known years ago, patching the doomed man you had married, returning you to the one you fell in love with. Hope, love, all contained in a simple gesture, in Junho’s closeness. Distance shrinks as he moves toward you, his lips finding your forehead in a warm kiss, a token of latent affection, of love he never stopped feeling for you.
You sink into his chest, into an embrace that dissolves all doubts, dissipating the twisted past that had separated you. The scent of his neck is familiar, smells like home, love, commitment, lost nights, and vanished kisses. Junho’s hands cling to your body, your figure enclosed in his arms. Both know what it means: mutual acceptance, the desire to stay together.
******
Minji adapts easily, having seen old photos of your wedding; you were never just “dad’s friend,” simply the wife who returned home, the woman in all the hidden photos in her father’s closet. You get used to this life, to the secrets to keep, to Minji’s questions, to doubts about her origin… to the fact that Junho’s brother might be wandering nearby, watching his actions. The games may have ended, but their consequences remained, in the form of a small girl full of enthusiasm. And you had learned to live with it, with the little reminder that amidst chaos, calm comes suddenly, unexpectedly, a vision of a hopeful future.
You hold Minji’s hand, Junho holds the other, the three of you walking along the sidewalk. You hear his laughter, now constant, music to your ears and a treat for the heart. You watch him, fulfilled, serene, without a trace of the fragmented man he used to be. You sit on a bench while letting Minji play with some children. Junho rests his hand on your thigh, the ring shining on his ring finger, his wide smile as he looks at you.
“No,” you say before he can start.
“You know how happy we’d make her,” he insists, fingers digging lightly through the fabric of your clothes.
“If we have one now, she’ll be six years older than her brother,” you reply. Junho has insisted all week on having a child, one of both of you, supposedly Minji’s idea of wanting a sibling.
“And what of that? Inho and I have a big age difference.”
“You Hwangs aren’t a good reference for sibling relationships.”
“Before everything, he was cool; he taught me many things.”
“He left you a six-month-old baby…”
“With a lot of money.”
“A bullet wound…”
“After I left one myself.”
No way around it, and you know it, Junho is stubborn, obsessive, which is why he hid your contraceptives, and you’re sure the perforated condoms are his doing. But you don’t insist, deciding to ignore it, pretending he isn’t there, pretending he doesn’t touch you too much while you search for food in the fridge, pretending his trivial excuse to shower with you is real, pretending he really had a bad day and needs extra care tonight, pretending he really slept poorly the night before so you can do it quickly in the morning and relieve his stress. Pretending to have your period so you could have a break…
“Minji has a sleepover tonight,” Junho says, and your blood runs cold; you look at him, recognizing that enthusiastic gaze, like a virgin on graduation night.
******
Empty house.
You slip under the sheets as Junho enters the room, turns off the light, and approaches you, kissing your shoulder, your neck, his hand slipping under the sheets, beneath your pajamas, between your legs.
“I’m on my period,” you say.
“Liar,” he whispers, biting your earlobe, you finished a week ago.
“Are you… following my schedule?” the words catch in your throat as you feel his warm hand sliding the fabric of your pants, his breath heating the angle of your neck, “Junho,” you push him away, perhaps too strongly for foreplay. He straightens, seeking your gaze. You shake your head, looking aside, covering yourself with the sheet.
“Are you okay?” Junho caresses your cheek.
“What if we lose it again?” you whisper, eyes clouded with tears, hugging yourself.
“Not this time,” Junho kisses your cheek, thumb wiping away the crystalline traces sliding down your cheeks, “because this time, I’ll be here for you,” a kiss on the chin, the cheek, the lips. Warmth in his manner, in his promise, vehemence in his oath.
You have made love countless times, yet this time is different, because there is not only lust, there is something more, tacit care, adoration in every caress, tenderness in the fragility of his touch, in the way he fits inside you, in the way his hips press against yours, as sighs of satisfaction coincide with each movement. The sway under the sheets know you perfectly, this repeated dance, this explicit love bent into a promise that beats within you like only habit can. Your hands on his back, the damp embrace of sweaty bodies, foreheads pressed together, the agony of your long voice as you reach the limit, the high pushing your spine to arch, your nails digging into his shoulders as he buries his forehead in your chest.
There is no other place you wish to be, no one else, because you belong there, with him.
This rarepair gained popularity seemingly out of nowhere, the reason people shipped them being that they just "look neat together", which, I agree. I am a juncruiter shipper, if that wasn't obvious. Juncruiter is neat.
I'm not gonna write about how or why they became popular (and like, the go-to for either Junho or The Recruiter as a side-pairing in any fic ever somehow) because I do not like analyzing social behavior and people scare me. I'm here to ramble about why this pairing makes sense through my personal outlook on these characters and nonsense yap. Strap in.
Other than the fact that these characters look hot together (let's not lie here, the juncruiter tag on ao3 is like 80% rated E), their chemistry and dynamic is explosive.
But. Where the hell did this chemistry even come from?Junho and the Recruiter never even interact. And in the only scene where they're both together, one is already dead. Removing any possibility of them ever crossing paths.
Obviously it's all in the potential. Junho is Inho's brother for God's sake, the Recruiter's boss. People flock to these dynamics like seagulls to fish.
Usually, because the relative of the boss is dating the employee, the relative is the one who has the upper hand. This could easily be applied to Juncruiter as well if you just spin that Junho has some sort of "protection" because he's Inho's brother. So, if the Recruiter were to get close to Junho, he wouldn't be able to do anything because the big boss would have his head on a stake. (for the sake of this let's just ignore the "kill them all" line.)
But, with the nature of the Recruiter as a certified asshole and a menace, and the fact that Inho hides away from his brother like the plague, this cliche gets flipped completely on its head.
Junho's entire motivation throughout Squid Game is to find his brother, and after season 1, he knows where he is. He just. Doesn't know where he is.
Enter the Recruiter. A man who works for the games and goes on fishing trips with Inho (??? funny asf btw, best bit SG ever gave us). That man has information which he can dangle over Junho's head like bait. And since there is no other source of information available to Junho (not including Gihun, who barely knows anything himself), he has to take the Recruiter's bait in order to get to his goal.
However, that does not suddenly erase Junho's status of being a legitimate threat to the Recruiter's job. Or, yk, a threat to his safety. The games' nature and all.
By this point, it's clear that there's a power imbalance. But. Somehow. From both sides? And it only shifts when either of them realize that they have this power over the other.
This is what I personally really like about the ship. You can take any approach with it and it will still work, no matter what your preferances are.
Junho is a police officer, a man of justice. Someone who aims to help and to solve. And yet he breaks all protocol to follow his own goal of finding his brother without any help.
We assume that he's a good man based on his position, and his ambition to find his older brother. A selflessly selfish goal — complicated. He's doing this for his family, and yet, even after that family outright rejected him, he went out on his search again, but this time to get answers instead of saving anyone (and I don't mean to imply that Junho is wrong for that, by the way. But just that he has different, slightly more selfish goals compared to, say, Gihun, who is much MUCH more selfless than the avarage person).
So in this inherently good, selfless person who cares deeply about his brother, there's a blindspot in morality where he prioritizes what he wants to achieve over his safety or others.
The Recruiter, in contrast, is an entirely selfish character. He does things because they're entertaining to him. He toys with people because it's fun to watch them squirm. He spins the cylinder and shoots because it gives him a thrill he cannot find elsewhere. Guns and death give him purpose. His entire existence and life is built at the expense of others.
He's mysterious, and we don't know much about him, that's his whole appeal. You can slap practically anything on him and as long as you spin it well, it can work. But he is not meant to be sympathetic. Or is he?
He has worked at the games from a young age. Likely completely neglected of purpose or care when not in them. Because, when he was given a gun, it was like he was given meaning. Like someone finally looked at him and deemed him "worthy" of being looked at. At this point, I would even argue that he could be a victim of the system. Lured into dangerous jobs because feeling like you have weight somewhere feels good when you don't have it anywhere else.
But after a certain amount of time, and a few promotions, the Recruiter is no longer worthy of such sympathy. He isn't risking his life by playing Ddakji with people, he clearly feels superior to all of the "trash" that he sees outside, and he even goes out of his way to do social experiments with homeless people for no reason other than proving a point to himself. Again and again.
Life was probably harsh to the Recruiter, at first, but the ideals of the games have been drilled into him too much to be reversed. His life has no purpose, and his death was self-fulfilling. To the very end, he is a selfish, irredeemable man.
Junho and the Recruiter completely mirror each other whilst being direct oppositions of each other. They can both use their circumstances and ideals against the other, and yet, use the opposite ideal against the other as well. (I don't know how to word this in the best way, so let me explain.)
Junho's flaw is that he is selfish, the Recruiter can remind him of that through his own actions and the information that he holds. It's just a matter of how much Junho will fight for that information.
The Recruiter's flaw is his history, and the very moral code that he holds. You can toy with his sense of purpose like a yoyo if you have privilege above him, which Junho does. Since he's Inho's brother. Junho isn't entirely stupid, he will catch onto the Recruiter's fatal flaw when enough clues are given to him.
They can both easily rise against and toy with the other.
It's interesting how the only scene where they're together in canon is when they're both unconscious. Extremely close physically, but still farther than ever. Like magnets that have the characteristics of both sides at the same time, Impossible to put together, but helplessly gravitating towards each other at the same time. Though this is starting to sound like nonsense now so I'll wrap it up.
Juncruiter is peak and my friends are tired of hearing about it, so I'm doing the ultimate move and instead of annoying them, I'm going on TUMBLR to be annoying about juncruiter!! Yay!!! Uhm anyways yeah, this totally isn't bait to convince people to write more fic about them whattt??? No but seriously they have SO MUCH MEAT to them that you could write about AUGHHHH if I didn't already have a billion wips I would've done it myself but... Sigh. Alas.
Anyways, I hope this was at least a bit entertaining? I personally love reading character analyses so if anyone has anything to add to this or wants to counter anything I said, please send me an ask or talk about it yourself! I'd love to hear about it <3
You're at the supermarket with your Appa and your uncle. You want to buy a cake for your grandmother's birthday. A toy makes you express a strong desire that you absolutely want it. It's everything your toddler's heart desires, but… what if Appa says no? It's a good thing your Uncle Junho is here and wants to spoil you a little.
"…and you'll let yourself be put back in the shopping cart later? Appa doesn't want to have to search for you halfway through the supermarket and…….Junho, we don't need a clown costume, it's just a little surprise for Mother. Put the costume back"
You giggle once as your uncle Junho approaches the shopping cart with a clown costume in his hand, lowering his head dramatically and sadly, saying something about being a spoilsport. Your gaze goes up to your Appa - Inho - whose dark eyes are intently on you, seemingly hoping you've understood this rule.
Because you wanted to walk a little too.
You usually enjoy sitting in the car seat in the shopping cart and watching your Appa carefully as he concentrates on putting the items from the shopping list into the cart, occasionally asking for your opinion on whether… we should put strawberries or raspberries, beans or corn in the cart… sometimes InHo even hands you a snack he brought with him or your sippy cup filled with juice or water to cheer up a whiny toddler.
"Walk too! Like Uncle Junho and Appa!" - you say, stretching your arms toward InHo again.
He smiles gently and repeats his rule. If you let yourself be put in the shopping cart later without grumbling or whining, you'll be allowed to walk around a bit.
"First, you can help Appa find the birthday candles for Halmoni's cake, okay?" - Appa suggests, and you nod once your feet are back on solid ground in your shoes.
"YES! I'll help Appa!" - you say, toddling along like a puppy next to the cart and InHo's right side. You would pick out the very best birthday candles!
After your Uncle Junho returned the clown costume to where he bought it, you were allowed to help him pick out some party hats. (They were red ones with green and white dots!) and Junho also convinced Appa , to put one of those little balloons filled with confetti in the shopping cart.
For the candles, choose a swan theme.
Your grandmother loves swans so much. Whenever you go on a trip to the park with her—because Appa and Uncle work for the police in Seoul and your grandmother likes to look after you—you watch the swans on the lake in the park.
Yes, you made a very good choice! You're a wonderful little helper!
"…Chocolate cake or vanilla?"
Appa and Uncle discussed for a long time in front of the large shelf of freshly baked and decorated cakes, and a glance to your right revealed that the aisle across was filled with all the toys for children.
With wide eyes and euphoria, you walk over to the aisle and admire all the toys.
It took a few minutes for Inho and Junho to decide on a cake, and while InHo pushed your shopping cart over to you and the toy section, JunHo was tasked with getting her mother's favorite wine from the wine section.
"Appa! Appa! Wanna Please! Appa Buy?" - you held out a toy to InHo, full of joy in your big, toddler eyes.
A plastic mini-Olaf from Disney Frozen. He has a blue scarf with white snowflakes around his neck and a green cup of hot chocolate with a marshmallow in it in his hands. You really wanted that toy. Then the mini Olaf can play with the Olaf plush toy in your room…and with the two Elsa dolls. And the Anna figure that can sing! Appa will definitely buy it for you, right?
InHo looked from you to the shopping cart and calmly explained the following situation.
"The toy isn't on the shopping list. We don´t need it. Give it to Appa, then he'll put it back on the shelf and we'll go to the checkout"
You blink at him a few times, and your little hands automatically tighten their grip on the toy. Why doesn't Appa say, "Of course, my little princess, Appa will buy you the toy?"
"Olaf toy. Appa? Please?"
"You already have an Olaf toy at home. Appa isn't buying you anything today"
The tone Appa chose was now a hint…I won't tolerate any arguments, young lady…but the toy is so great and you want it!
"No!" - you say, and want to hide the toy behind your back…but InHo has already seen this idea coming and quickly takes it away.
"Appa! Wanna!" - you whimper, holding out your hands.
But InHo dismisses you with a stern look back at the shelf. Your sad look and the possibly brewing toddler tantrum leave the experienced police officer completely cold.
"I said no, Princess, not today"
The words hit you like a bad dream.
Your eyes fill with tears and you sit down on the floor in the middle of the aisle, about to vent your anger in a fit of rage.
You hear your Appa gasp quietly, and before he even puts you in the shopping cart, Junho arrives, no doubt surprised to see you…sitting so sad on the floor.
"Wow, wow…did you try to explain to her again that Hans can't come to Seoul , from Frozen and that he's hurting Appa and Uncle because he couldn't marry Princess Anna?"
"What? No. She wanted a toy. I said no"
"InHo, how can you turn down a request from the cutest little toddler? Look how sad she is?"
Yes! Why can't Appa see how sad you are?
You look at Junho and give him Grabby Hands.
"Uncle Junho!" - you whimper, and instinctively Junho picks you up and rocks you gently.
"Shhhhh… I know Appa is really mean and can't understand why his daughter absolutely needs a new toy, huh?" - Junho cooed, and Inho gave him a "Don't fall in my back, brothe look… but JunHo ignored this.
"Yeeeah… Appa mean. Me wanna toooooy", - you sniffed dramatically and bury your head in JunHo's jacket.
"Appa is just beign rational"
"InHo, that's not helpful. How can you be so cruel?"
"She has so many toys… she doesn't need another one .....today."
"She's been so helpful today… you know what, Princess? Uncle JunHo will buy you the toy. Show me which one you want, okay? But no more crying, okay?" - JunHo cooed, and these words made you look up.
Sniffling, you point to the shelf where Appa had put the Olaf toy back.
"InHo, that doesn't even cost 4,200 won (3 US dollars). You know what, you poor little toddler and my favorite niece… Uncle JunHo says you can have lollipop! If Appa is so mean… your uncle has to spoil you a little"
And with those words, JunHo handed you the toy and stroked your hair soothingly as he walked past InHo and the shopping cart.
"You spoil her, Junho."
But Junho just grinned.
"That's an uncle's job, when Appa says no to the toy", - said Junho, and seeing you cuddling up to Junho with your toy, InHo can't be mad at you or his brother. Or resentful.
"…if Appa's behaving nice and good, he might get a lollipop…but only a tiny one, what do you say?" - Junho whispered to you.
A quiet giggle escaped you.
"Thank you, Uncle Jun-Ho," - you say, and as you stand in front of the candy shelf with the individually wrapped lollipops, you pick out a particularly large lollipop.
If Appa says no, your Uncle Jun-Ho would grant you almost any wish.
