do we mayhaps want another one shot or
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@aretiredstan
do we mayhaps want another one shot or

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hi hi!! new anon :) can i request a black cat! reader x either woojin or gun woo? smth where reader is quiet & introverted!
just figured out how these requests work đ sorry for the late reply anon!
i wrote this one a little differently than usual so you can imagine either gun-woo or woo-jin as the love interest while reading. i purposely kept it as âheâ throughout the story because honestly⌠i could see both of them reacting this way in their own ways, so feel free to insert whichever bloodhound has your heart đŠľ
enjoy!
đđđ˘đŤđ˘đ§đ đŹ: Bloodhounds Male Character (Gun-Woo or Woo-jin) x Reader (f)
đđ¨đŤđ đđ¨đŽđ§đ: ~3.5k
đđđ§đŤđđŹ: angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, emotional intimacy, black cat reader, bloodhounds, comfort fic, slight slow burn vibes.
đđđ˘đŤđ˘đ§đ đŹ: Kim Gun-woo x Reader (f)
đđ¨đŤđ đđ¨đŽđ§đ: 6k-ish
đđđ đŹ: sniper!reader, protective!gunwoo, jealous!gunwoo, badass!gunwoo, car chase trope, reader sitting on gunwoo while he drives, shy but possessive gunwoo, established tension, teasing & flirting, action and romance, reader and gunwoo being obsessed with each other, gunwoo losing his mind respectfully, season 2 based, woojin third wheeling against his will, making out in the car, heavy and explicit smut, soft dom!gunwoo energy.
đđŽđŚđŚđđŤđ˛: After a mission goes catastrophically wrong, Gun-woo, Woo-jin, and you find yourselves speeding through Seoul in the middle of a violent car chase while Baek Jeongâs men close in from every direction. Un(fortunately) for Gun-woo, your solution to getting a cleaner sniper angle involves climbing directly onto his lap while heâs driving at full speed.
Things somehow get worse (maybe not!) after that.
Itâs my birthday! hereâs my gift to yall đ
Pairings: Kim Gun-woo x Reader (f)
đđ¨đŤđ đđ¨đŽđ§đ: 4.5k-ish
đđđ đŹ: jealous!gunwoo, protective!gunwoo, bodyguard dynamics, safehouse trope, mutual pining, possessiveness, baek jeong mention, soft!gunwoo, kissing, implicit smut if you squint, action & romance, bloodhounds plot
đđŽđŚđŚđđŤđ˛: After Baek Jeongâs men ambush one of the teamâs routes, everyone is forced into hiding at a remote cabin outside Seoul. Gun-woo becomes increasingly unbearable about your safety, hovering around you like breathing depends on it. Things only get worse after another man throws himself in front of a knife to protect you⌠and Gun-woo realizes he hates the idea of someone else being able to.
Enjoy!
thinking to pause the fic and continue with one shots since u guys liked it more
decision taken. see you guys in a few with a new gun woo one shot

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thinking to pause the fic and continue with one shots since u guys liked it more
wow thank you guys for the support on the gunwoo sm*t chapter lol, i felt so shy writing and posting that
Ovulating heavily today and remembered how dohwanâs a moaner so, here you go!
đđđ˘đŤđ˘đ§đ đŹ: Kim Gun-woo x Reader (f)
đđđŤđ§đ˘đ§đ đŹ: themes of violence, injury, blood, captivity, emotional distress, trauma, grief, mentions of torture/coercion, heavy emotional dependence, explicit sexual content, soft dom!gunwoo energy if you squint, possessiveness, crying during intimacy, hurt/comfort, and emotionally wrecked people using each other as home.
đđ¨đŤđ đđ¨đŽđ§đ: 5k-ish
đđŽđŚđŚđđŤđ˛: After being used as bait by Baek-jeong, you watch Gun-woo nearly destroy himself trying to save you. What follows is one long night of grief, relief, exhaustion, and two people clinging to each other after almost losing everything.
Enjoy!
coookinngggg
ongoing kim gun-woo x reader series with continuous chapters âĄ
genres/tropes:
action, thriller, slow burn, enemies to lovers, angst, emotional tension, explicit romance, jealousy, found family, forced proximity, yearning, humor, psychological themes, violence, crime, and comfort.
this fic follows a mix of canon and original plotlines from Bloodhounds, so some characters and events may be altered or expanded for the story.
also a small warning moving forward: this story will eventually contain mature themes and explicit sexual content later on, so if that is not something youâre comfortable reading, please skip accordingly.
updates will hopefully be around 2â3 times a week depending on my schedule!
â chapters â
chapter one: the things that linger
chapter two: bad habits

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word count: 2.7K | link to chapter 1 here
Chapter 2, Bad Habits
The following days settled into something strange. Not peace, exactly. Nothing about Mr. Choiâs mansion felt peaceful anymore, not after Kim Myeong-gilâs men had taken over the safe house, swept through the hidden money, and forced everyone under one roof.
But it became routine: shared hallways, shared meals, shared silence, and assigned rooms behind closed doors. And, for Gun-woo, the unfortunate reality of your presence becoming harder and harder to ignore.
The mansion gym was wide and cold, filled with the dull echo of boxing gloves hitting leather and the sharp rhythm of shoes dragging against the floor. Gun-woo stood inside the ring with Woo-jin circling him, both of them drenched in sweat, both supposed to be focused.
From farther across the gym, you trained alone near the machines, headphones covering your ears, entirely disconnected from whatever was happening around you.
You moved from one machine to another with slow, controlled focus before reaching the metal pull-up bar, gripping it above your head and lifting yourself with irritating ease. A bubblegum bubble grew lazily between your lips before popping softly.
Gun-wooâs eyes drifted just for a second, which was more than enough.
Woo-jinâs glove slammed into his jaw.
Gun-woo stumbled hard, lost his footing, and fell back against the mat with a low grunt, making Woo-jin freeze, before he crouched above him, breathing hard, his brows pulled together in disbelief.
âYa. What is the matter with you?â Gun-woo wiped the sweat from his jaw and shook his head, trying to sit up.
Woo-jin pushed him back down with one glove. âYouâre almost drilling holes into her with your eyes.â
Gun-wooâs face tightened immediately. âIâm not.â
Woo-jin slowly turned his head toward you. You were still hanging from the bar, completely unbothered, bubblegum between your lips again, looking like the world had failed to interest you.
Woo-jin looked back at him. âAre you interested in her, man? I get you honestly. Sheâs pretty, confident, strong-â
âMore like I canât stand her presence around,â Gun-woo cut him off, sitting up properly this time. âShe seems too full of herself.â
Woo-jin helped him stand anyway and passed him a water bottle. Gun-woo took it, wiping his face with the back of his wrist before drinking. âHow does Mr. Choi even know someone like her?â he asked, trying to sound less interested than he was.
Woo-jinâs expression shifted slightly. âApparently it goes way back.â
Gun-woo looked at him. That was enough encouragement for Woo-jin.
He leaned against the ropes of the boxing ring, already enjoying the fact that he knew something Gun-woo didnât.
âHwang Yang-jung hyung told me a few things.â
Gun-woo frowned. âWhen?â
âThe night she joined us,â Woo-jin said. âYou left early, remember? Said you wanted to sleep because of training the next day.â
Gun-woo did remember. After the warehouse incident, after seeing your face again in Mr. Choiâs basement, after realizing you were not some random stranger but someone Mr. Choi trusted enough to bring into the house, Gun-woo had decided he was done for the night. He excused himself before the drinking started, before the stories, before people got too honest. And for the next few days, he avoided you like you were a problem he could solve by walking out of every room you entered.
If you entered the kitchen, he left. If you sat in the living room, he suddenly remembered he had somewhere else to be. One time, all you had done was open your mouth to ask where the plates were kept, and Gun-woo had moved out of the kitchen so fast you actually stood there for a second, confused, staring after him like he had lost his mind.
Which, honestly, he might have.
âYeah?â Gun-woo pushed, sitting on the edge of the boxing ring now. âWhat did he say?â
Woo-jin sat beside him and lowered his voice a little. âBuckle up. Technically, they raised her since she had soft skin. Her father and Mr. Choi were partners. Close partners. Best friends, almost. This was back when Mr. Choi was still working in finance and lending before everything became⌠this.â
Gun-wooâs face changed slightly as Woo-jin continued.
âHer father was killed by Myeong-gilâs men during the same incident where Mr. Choi got injured. After that, Mr. Choi took her in.â
The gym noise suddenly felt farther away. Gun-wooâs eyes moved toward the glass doors leading out to the garden. You had gone outside now, continuing your cardio under the bright morning light, your figure moving steadily past the windows.
âHer mother?â Gun-woo asked quietly.
âGone,â Woo-jin said. âLong gone. Nobody knows where she is. Apparently, she disappeared even before her father died.â Gun-woo stayed silent.
âSo it was only her,â Woo-jin continued. âShe lived with Mr. Choi, Yang-jung hyung, and Lee Doo-young hyung through most of her childhood. Then when she became a teenager, Mr. Choi sent her abroad to Spain. He sensed Myeong-gilâs people moving around again and got worried.â
Gun-wooâs expression softened before he could stop it. He looked toward the garden again. You didnât look like someone who had been protected. You looked like someone who had learned early that protection was temporary.
âDamn,â Woo-jin muttered, following his gaze. âFrom one father figure to three. And all badasses. No wonder she punches like that.â
Gun-woo glanced at him. Woo-jin shuddered at the memory.
A few days ago, he had tried sparring with you after provoking you for nearly fifteen minutes. It ended with him on the floor, both hands between his legs, regretting every decision that led him there. Safe to say, though, at least he was establishing some kind of friendship with you. Unlike someone.
âAnd best part?â Woo-jin added, standing up and pulling his shirt back over his head. âHer name isnât even Ăcho. Itâs a nickname.â
Gun-woo gave him a flat look. âIsnât that obvious?â
Woo-jin frowned. âIs it?â
âWho the hell would be named Ăcho?â
âI donât know,â Woo-jin said defensively. âI thought it was cool. Added to the whole mysterious persona.â Gun-woo stared at him.
âI donât know her real name, though,â Woo-jin continued. âThat old guy puked on me and passed out before he got to finish the story.â Gun-woo looked away, fiddling with the fabric wrapped around his hands, and Woo-jin patted his shoulder once.
âNow excuse me, sir. I have errands to run with Doo-young hyung before the meeting today.â He started walking backward toward the exit, pointing at Gun-woo.
âYou, though? Get back to training. You were lanky today.â Gun-woo scoffed as Woo-jin left the gym. He stood again and started shadowboxing, his fists cutting through the air with more force than necessary.
Still, his eyes drifted once more. Outside, you greeted Woo-jin near the garden path. He said something that made you laugh, and the two of you walked side by side until you disappeared from Gun-wooâs line of sight.
His fist paused midair. Then he hit harder.
â
The meeting later that noon ran smoothly. Mr. Choiâs driver had brought in new intel about one of Myeong-gilâs hidden gold storage routes, along with a possible location where part of it was being moved. Everyone gathered quickly around the table, spreading maps, photographs, and handwritten notes across the surface.
The plan was to confirm whether the information was real, track the movement, avoid unnecessary confrontation, a move only when certain. But simple plans had a way of rotting from the inside.
Mr. Choi stood near the head of the table, calm as always, but you knew him too well.
He was worried. He had been worried since the safe house fell. Since Myeong-gilâs men had taken what was hidden there and forced everyone back into this mansion, pretending it was safer because the walls were higher and the doors were heavier.
Between him and himself, Mr. Choi knew danger was rising. He just didnât want the boys to see it. He didnât want his men to see it either. But you saw it.
You had heard it first through the phone, before you even returned to Seoul. His voice had been gentle that day. Too gentle. The kind of gentle people used when they were trying to make bad news sound ordinary.
Everything is fine, he had told you. Everything is under control. You knew immediately that it wasnât.
He had mentioned the two boys staying with him, Gun-woo and Woo-jin. He had mentioned Yang-jung and Doo-young. He had even tried to laugh a little, like the situation was manageable, like he wasnât calling you from a house slowly becoming surrounded by ghosts. But the call felt too much like goodbye, and you hated that. You hated it so much that you begged him to send you a ticket home.
At first, he refused, then hesitated, then finally gave in, and you took the first flight the next morning, not because Seoul was safe, but because Spain had stopped feeling survivable.
You had been dreading life there for months by then, maybe longer. Hiding between friendsâ apartments, sleeping on couches, borrowing money you hated borrowing, changing routes every few days like the city itself had teeth. Which was funny, in the cruelest way.
You had finished your postgraduate studies at the top of your class. You had built yourself into something sharp, educated, useful, and still, one person had managed to make you feel like a trapped animal.
You never said his name anymore, not out loud. Names had power when spoken. His especially. He had left pieces of himself everywhere. In the way you checked locks twice. In the way unknown numbers made your stomach tighten. In the way you couldnât sit with your back to a door. In the way kindness, if given too suddenly, felt like a trap.
So when the plane landed in Seoul, you expected relief. Instead, the feeling of being watched returned before you even left the airport. If anything, it intensified.
You didnât go to Mr. Choi right away. You were too afraid the danger had followed you home.
So you lied.
You told him you were staying with a friend for a few days because her parents insisted on having you over. In reality, you stayed wherever you could while trying to understand Seoul again. Trying to map its corners, its routes, its hiding places. And quietly, you started collecting intel on Myeong-gil. Not perfectly nor cleanly, just enough to know if Mr. Choi was hiding something from you.
A few hacking tricks you had learned overseas. A few contacts you still had. A few locked doors that opened if you knew where to press. That was how you found the warehouse, your first mission back in Seoul had not been about Myeong-gil only. It had been about the other shadow moving behind him.
The one tied to Europe. The one you thought you had outrun.
There had been one man present that night, someone crucial to both sides. A thread between Myeong-gilâs world and the one you had crawled out of.
You wanted to cut that thread before it reached Mr. Choi. Before it reached this house. Before it reached you again.
So, without telling anyone, you went to Lee Doo-youngâs hidden storage compartment in an abandoned street, took one of his sniper rifles, and collected every bit of courage the last few years had beaten into you.
You didnât know Gun-woo would be there. You didnât know Woo-jin would be there either. You only knew one thing.
If danger had followed you back to Seoul, you needed to kill it before it learned where home was.
-
âĂcho,â Hong Woo-jin called once from across the table. No response.
Woo-jin blinked. Then leaned farther back in his chair dramatically. âEeeechooo.â
A few people around the table glanced up in amusement while you remained completely zoned out somewhere far from the basement walls surrounding you.
Woo-jin frowned harder now before cupping his hands around his mouth theatrically. âEcho. Echo. Echo. Echo.â Each repetition got louder and more exaggerated than the last, like he was genuinely trying to hear an echo bounce back from the room.
That finally dragged you back to reality. Woo-jinâs voice pulled at your concentration repeatedly as he waved one hand dramatically in front of your face from across the table.
Everyone had been waiting for your input for the past thirty seconds. You blinked once, then twice.
The meeting room slowly came back into focus around you: scattered maps, half-empty coffee cups, photographs spread beneath dim lighting, and the low hum of overlapping voices filling the mansion basement.
Your thoughts had drifted too far again. Back to Europe, the warehouse, and to the realization that you failed. You failed to cut the thread before it followed you back to Seoul.
And now, with this mission connected once again to hidden gold routes and overseas movement, a sick feeling curled inside your stomach.
What if he already had a hand in this too? What if you were already too late?
Woo-jin leaned back dramatically in his chair. âSheâs gone,â he announced to the room. âMentally evacuated.â
A few quiet chuckles spread around the table. Mr. Choi only smiled softly at you instead, tired, gentle, knowing. âDo you have any suggestions?â he asked calmly. âConsidering your background.â
You straightened slightly in your chair, forcing your focus back into the room and the scattered material. Your fingers tapped lightly against the table before pointing toward one of the marked areas. âThe stash itself is probably here,â you spoke finally. âBut if this information is real, theyâll definitely have surveillance surrounding the route before the actual location.â
Everyoneâs attention shifted fully toward you now. You continued. âIf we move in too heavily, theyâll relocate everything before we confirm it exists.â
Mr. Choi nodded slowly. âAnd your solution?â Your eyes flickered briefly toward Gun-woo.
For some reason, the moment his attention met yours directly, your chest tightened slightly. Those silent stares of his unsettled you.
Not because they were cruel. Because they were observant and difficult to read.
They reminded you too much of someone else. You swallowed the thought immediately.
He doesnât know you, you reminded yourself. He doesnât know your past, and hopefully, he never will.
Thankfully, Gun-woo had spent the last few days avoiding you almost professionally. You noticed every single time.
âI think Gun-woo and I should verify the stash location directly,â you continued, keeping your tone level. âWoo-jin, Yang-jung hyung, and the others can stay outside the perimeter and create a distraction if things go wrong. Thatâll give us enough time to move the gold out before backup arrives.â Silence settled briefly around the table. Then, unexpectedly
âI agree.â Your eyes snapped toward Gun-woo instantly.
That was the first time he had agreed with you this quickly since you arrived. He remained leaned back in his chair casually, arms crossed, expression unreadable. Still, something about it caught you off guard.
Mr. Choi looked between the two of you quietly before nodding. âThen itâs settled.â
The mission was scheduled for dawn, before sunrise. One by one, everyone slowly dispersed afterward, conversations fading throughout the mansion halls as the night deepened.
â
Later that night, the house had finally fallen quiet. Most lights were off by now. Only the kitchen remained dimly lit beneath the warm yellow glow above the counter.
Gun-woo entered silently, reaching for a bottle of water from the fridge before stopping mid-step. You sat on top of the kitchen counter in oversized clothes, one leg crossed loosely over the other while your laptop screen illuminated your face faintly in the dark.
You hadnât noticed him yet. Your eyes moved quickly across the screen that displayed numbers, transaction logs, maps, and European accounts.
Then Gun-woo noticed something else, a symbol. Something tied to the warehouse photographs from earlier. His brows pulled together slightly. âWhatâs that?â
Your body froze almost imperceptibly. For the first time since meeting you, your reaction wasnât calm. It was fear, and Gun-woo was quick to notice.
Your laptop shut immediately as the sound echoed softly through the kitchen, and he stared at you. You looked away first.
âYou should sleep early,â you said quietly, your voice smoother now, controlled again. âIf you want to survive tomorrow.â
Ahh, deflection.
Gun-woo stayed silent for a second longer. Something underneath all of this suddenly became clear to him. You werenât just mysterious. You were hiding something. You are scared.
And somehow, that unsettled him far more than the possibility of you being dangerous ever did.
iâm supposed to be writing 3 research papers due in the next weeks but no! i have other priorities! (gun woo fanfic 2 chapters are up yall) đŤľđź
Chapter 1, The things that linger.
Rain always made Seoul look expensive. Skyscrapers illuminated the dark sky, their glass exteriors glistening beneath the downpour. Children stepped into puddles without care, couples rushed beneath umbrellas, while terrible people conducted filthy business beneath tables and buried bodies beneath the cityâs lights.
The city wasnât clean. It had never been clean. Just glossy enough to hide the blood.
The warehouse district near Mapo was almost empty this late at night, save for the distant growl of engines somewhere beyond the docks and the flickering red signs reflected across wet pavement. Gun-woo adjusted the hood over his head as he stepped over shattered glass near the loading entrance.
The air smelled like rust and something wrong.
Behind him, Woo-jin exhaled sharply. âYou feel that?â
the lack of material written for gun woo⌠i have decided to take matter into my own hands and return to writing fics after 7 years just to honor him.
requests are open! iâm torn between making a complete fanfic with chapters or just single one shots, so what do u guys prefer? :)
(UPDATE: 2 chapters are up!)