#jun-ho

The morning light gently teased your eyes. Instinctively, you rummage around the blankets to your side, trying to feel for warmth and reassurance. Finding none, your eyes flutter open. Your foggy brain registers sound from the kitchen and you breathe a sigh of relief. Not thinking any thoughts deeper than a puddle, you get up, still half asleep, and put on the first thing you find neatly folded across the chair. With a slight yawn you softly walk towards the kitchen, the smell of coffee and sweetness enveloping you as you do. You see your husband, who hasn’t noticed you, softly humming to himself, engrossed in cooking seemingly without a care for the world.

He's beautiful, you think, as you stand there, groggy, arms crossed. As beautiful as the day you met him, though there’s less stress and fervour lining his body and back. He’s relaxed, still humming. He seems…you close your eyes slowly and smile as you look at him again...happy. All of Jun-ho’s movements seem almost carefree, calculated, but no longer rigid. You almost can’t believe how…content he is. You are. You would love to stop this moment and seal it forever, this kitchen, this smell, his humming, his warmth. Your soft smile turns into a small grin as you walk up to him everso quietly and place your arms around his waist, leaning your cheek against his neck, your chest against his back. Saying no words, you gently sway with him.

“Y/N! You’re up…”

Jun-ho’s inflection rises in surprise and falls down in that softness you have grown to love so much. He turns around, still in your arms, brushing against your body entirely on purpose. One hand wriggling out of your embrace to turn off the stove, his other quickly finds your cheek and caresses your smile. He frees his other hand and pulls you into him by the small of your back, as if suddenly needing that reassurance himself – as if you could disappear any moment in the smell of cinnamon and sweetness. His hands are slowly traversing your lower back, gliding along your hips and back and back up again. The sunlight reaches his face and you see the fringed peacefulness that puts you at easy each and every morning. You can’t help but giggle and he immediately catches on your playfulness, spinning around with you and leaning you against the countertop.

“Up so early, my love?” He tries to purr in what would be the most seductive morning voice you’ve heard since yesterday, but he sounds so sweet in his effort that you start smiling into his shoulder as he rests between your legs. The sunlight caught your hair as you dipped for his shouldery sanctuary and Jun-ho is caught in the moment of bliss, snuggling into you and kissing your hair, letting himself relax and melt in affectionate bliss. He’s still cradling you softly by the hips, and you’re caressing his thigh with your calf – even now he holds you as if you could slip away at any moment, as if he’s cherishing and needing that reassurance that you won’t. You shift your hips towards him and embrace him fully – he doesn’t wait for the full cue and immediately sinks into you, hands squeezing your back and caressing your body as you feel his chest against yours. His heart, you smile, is beating into yours, his breath is gently pushing your body as he pushes it back to him.

“I love you so much.” He hums into you, momentarily pulling away to kiss your forehead, which he misses and kisses your nose, before burying himself back in your embrace. Though you barely hear the muffled murmur in your ear, you feel it quite viscerally through your chest – his large frame enveloping yours and softly, so softly, sending a rumble through your body. You pull away gently and slide a hand across his chest, tracing his neck and cupping his cheek, before kissing him on the forehead (without missing), on the nose (on purpose, and feel him chuckle), and finally, slowly, softly, as if you never wanted it to end – on the lips.

“I’m up, sweetheart, quite literally.” You look down at him with a cheeky grin as your legs still hug his waist and your chest is only inches from his – but a slight bit higher due to your newfound high ground.

“Oh?” That cheeky grin spreads until he’s fully smiling, “Having the high ground while wearing my shirt? Oh, we can’t have that.” With feigned abject resolute he pulls you closer in one swipe and lifts you up, firmly holding you to himself as if it was nothing to him. Slowly backing out of the kitchen he only turns for better manoeuvring purposes – and you have no choice but to fall into him for balance, unable to help but erupt in a giggle that you hide in the crane of his neck as you attempt your best playful discontented noises. You softly beat fake fists into his back while your legs and thighs cling to him and he’s still doing his best not to burst out laughing.

“No, that’s grand larceny, miss, Ma’am, a---” he catches his thought while narrowly avoiding the bedroom door with his frame, making very sure you don’t get hit all the while positioning you around himself. Jun-ho’s are hands still sliding and caressing your back when they’re not busy doing the holding, and he himself only moves away from your chest to speak. Jun-ho truly doesn’t want to be away from you and your warmth.

Spoken once again through the rumbling and murmur against your body than clear words, Jun-ho kisses your neck between each word and humms melodically:

“Property theft from a police officer, Ma’am, that’s no grounds for high ground.”

Between supressed giggles he finally gets you to his desired location, and with the last words murmured between kisses, Jun-ho softly half-lays, half-lets you fall into the velvety bed and before you can protest or call a lawyer, he firmly provides you with the right to remain silent with another long, tender kiss. Hands finally free to do as they please without fear of hurting you, they search and caress and slide all across your body through your – his – shirt.

“I’m going to need to confiscate that, Ma’am,” he pulls away and lifts his eyebrows, a supressed grin in the corner of his mouth fighting for its dear life. Jun-ho would almost be imposing hovering over you like that but to you, he’s anything but. You join forces with his grin in fighting the urge to start giggling, instead attempting to remain sullen and insolent. Your attempts at looking unbothered and cool are greatly hindered, however you do manage to play along – and make his efforts to remain stern all the harder.

“I will need something in return, officer…a kind of tit for tat, if you will.” You grin from ear to ear, caressing his form with your thigh, and try to replace the all-encompassing cheerful bliss with something more seductive, eyeing his shirt and belt. Jun-ho follows your gaze and as the realisation hits him, you almost see a lightbulb go off and his own grin loses the fight.

“Too bad I don’t negotiate with terrorists.”

You let out a small yelp as he buries himself back into you and kisses your body through, then under your garments, trailing kisses down your cheeks, neck, collarbones, chest, all the while unbuttoning the shirt you almost got away with stealing. Every button unbuttoned is another kiss, the lower he goes, the more his back straightens and finally, he is straddling you and unbuttoning the very last button. Jun-ho looks up to check if you’re still alright with this and his gaze stops – utterly transfixed. It cannot seem to move away on its own accord. His fingers lightly hover and brush around your bellybutton where the last piece of buttoned cloth fell from, Jun-ho’s other hand resting on the side of your ribcage, still so very protective. You always wondered how his hands seemed so large against your body, how his frame and arms against yours seemed to say “I will protect you” while his face and its soft features, lighting up as they saw you, conveyed the entirety of “I see you, I know you, I love you.”

But now, Jun-ho was looking at you, his wife, softly smiling up at him, hair a shining yet beautiful mess on the pillow, hands gently resting where they fell, one along her head and one peacefully laying at her side, seemingly frozen in their forgotten feigned protest. His wife in a moment of bliss that would, only this time last year, have seemed a particularly cruel joke to him. The warmth enveloping your tender features and your content lines were enough to keep him enthralled and tranquil should the moment freeze in time – forever. His dark eyes find yours and you see nothing but tenderness and gratitude, that you mirror right back.

“I’m so glad, Jun-ho.” You whisper. “I’m so happy.”

He finally leans down to you, his hair softly tickling your face. Before Jun-ho gently touches your forehead with his own, you reach him with another kiss.

“I love you, Y/N.”

He seals it with one more kiss, you feel no words would be enough to convey your feelings for him and Jun-ho feels the same way – utterly lost for words but so glad and warm – and you both understand. So you try to say the most sensible thing in this, or indeed any given situation.

He tilted his head, resting his elbow on the chair, absentmindedly spinning the ring on his finger — calm, collected, already planning.

"I never expect easy from you, baby."

The way he said baby… calm, low, full of intent — it sent a shiver right down your spine. Jun-ho was like that: he didn’t need to raise his voice or act rough. He dominated with his gaze, his control. And you melted for him, every single time.

You moved to sit on the edge of the bed, pulling your knees up, letting his shirt slide off one shoulder. Your bare legs on display, soft skin glowing in the lamplight — you knew what you were doing. So did he.

He set the wine glass down and slowly stood up, walking toward you with quiet confidence. Every step carried the promise of something deeper. He stopped between your parted knees, brushing his fingers along your thigh — slow, gentle, teasing.

"Do you know what I want tonight?" he asked, voice barely above a whisper, thumb stroking small circles on your skin.

You looked up at him, already breathless from the tension he carried so naturally.

"What…?"

Jun-ho leaned in, resting his forehead against yours, eyes fluttering shut as he breathed you in. His hand traveled up to the back of your neck, holding you tenderly as he whispered:

"I just want to feel you. Slow. Calm. Deep as I can."

Your breath hitched. Your entire body buzzed.

"You want…"

"I want you in my lap. With me inside you. No rush, no thrusting. Just you — sitting there. Warming me. Letting me hold you."

You trembled.

"That’s torture, Jun-ho…"

He smiled against your lips, gently brushing them with his.

"It’s love."

Then he kissed you. Deep, slow, intimate — like he had all night to taste you. His hand traced down your back, slipping under the hem of his t-shirt you wore, pulling it up gently as you raised your arms. It dropped to the floor, and you were left bare before him, your heart racing, your body already aching for his touch.

"Come here, princess," he murmured, sitting back down in the armchair and opening his legs, arms outstretched for you.

You stood on shaky legs, your entire body responding to his voice alone. You walked to him and climbed into his lap, straddling his thighs, knees sinking into the cushion, your chest brushing his.

Jun-ho held your waist firmly, grounding you with his touch. His eyes burned into yours.

"I’m going to keep you right here, love. Until you forget everything… except me."

And in that quiet room, with the rain falling outside and your bodies so close, you already knew — he wasn’t letting you go anytime soon.

You were already trembling.

Jun-ho was buried deep inside you, your bodies pressed so closely it felt like you were one, and still… he hadn’t moved. Not once. Just his fingers — slow, knowing, teasing — rubbing soft circles against your clit while you sat on him, stretched around him, completely full.

He watched every reaction of your body like he was memorizing it. Your soft moans. Your shaky breath. The way your hands clutched his shoulders for something to hold onto — to survive the unbearable pleasure he was giving you without even thrusting.

His cock was thick and warm inside you, throbbing just enough to drive you mad. But his fingers... his fingers were merciless.

“Fuck,” you gasped, burying your face in the crook of his neck, “Jun-ho, please... I can’t— I need to move…”

His hand gripped your waist, holding you firmly in place.

“No, baby,” he whispered against your ear, voice low and thick with desire. “You’re gonna stay just like this. You’re gonna take it. My fingers... and my cock. At the same time.”

You whimpered.

The stimulation was too much — the fullness, the pressure, the way his fingers circled your clit so precisely. It was slow torture, and yet, every part of you loved it.

He shifted slightly in the chair, the small movement making you moan aloud as his length pressed deeper. He smiled, wicked and warm, and kissed your temple.

“You’re so fucking tight like this… you feel so good. So wet for me. You love it, don’t you?”

You nodded desperately, nails digging into his arms.

“Please,” you whispered, eyes fluttering shut. “Please let me move. Just a little—”

He hushed you with a kiss, slow but demanding, and finally — finally — his hips rolled up once. Deep. Controlled.

You gasped so loud he had to kiss you again just to quiet you.

“Oh my God—Jun-ho—”

“That’s it,” he groaned against your mouth. “Now you move. Ride me, baby. Nice and slow.”

You didn’t hesitate. Your hips began to roll against him, shallow at first, then deeper, matching the rhythm of his hand. His fingers never stopped circling your clit, applying just enough pressure to make your thighs tremble.

The room was filled with the soft, wet sounds of your bodies moving, skin against skin, the squelch of your need echoing in the dim light.

Jun-ho’s breathing grew heavier, his hands gripping your waist tighter as he started to thrust up into you — harder now. The chair creaked beneath you both as he rocked into you with more force.

“Such a good girl,” he rasped. “Taking me so well. Letting me stretch you open like this. Look at you... fuck, look at how desperate you are for me.”

You couldn’t answer. Your mouth was open, panting, too close to the edge to form words. Every nerve in your body was lit up, on fire, overwhelmed.

Your hands cupped his face as you kissed him again — messy, breathless, tongues tangling, your moans muffled by his lips.

And then—

You shattered.

The orgasm hit hard and fast, your body shaking, clenching around him. He didn’t stop. He thrust through it, fucking you through your climax, watching you break for him.

“That’s it,” he whispered, voice broken and full of pride. “Cum for me, baby. Just like that.”

You felt tears at the corner of your eyes — from the intensity, the love, the connection. And then he followed, groaning against your neck, spilling deep inside you as his hips bucked one last time.

You collapsed into his chest, trembling and breathless, the two of you completely tangled together in heat and love.

The room was quiet now, filled only by the soft sound of rain outside and your heart slowly coming down from the high he had pushed you to. You were curled up in Jun-ho’s lap, arms wrapped around his neck, his hands gently stroking up and down your back — calm, grounding, full of love.

He hadn’t let you go since you came undone on top of him.

Your body was still sensitive, trembling lightly, but it was nothing compared to how your heart felt: so full, so warm, so… desperate.

Not for more sex — for him.

He kissed your shoulder gently, then your jaw, his lips trailing soft, lazy kisses as he whispered:

“You okay, baby?”

You nodded, pressing your forehead to his.

“I’m okay… I’m just…”

He looked at you, concerned now. “What is it?”

You bit your lip, trying not to sound as needy as you felt — but your voice came out soft, broken, and so full of emotion you couldn’t hide it:

“I miss you.”

Jun-ho blinked, confused for a moment. “Miss me? I’m right here—”

You shook your head, voice trembling a little.

“No… I mean I miss you all the time. Even when you're next to me. You’re always working lately, always tired, and I… I don’t get to have you like this. Not enough. I just want more of you. I just want you…”

Your voice cracked near the end, and you buried your face in his neck to hide it — but he already felt the tears on his skin.

Jun-ho wrapped his arms around you tightly, almost protectively, like he could shield you from every feeling you were drowning in.

“Hey, hey… look at me,” he whispered, cupping your cheeks gently, lifting your head.

You met his eyes, glassy and wet.

“I’m sorry,” you said quickly. “I didn’t want to ruin the moment, I just—”

“You didn’t ruin anything,” he cut in gently, brushing his thumb over your cheek. “You gave me everything. And you’re right.”

He kissed your forehead slowly, like it was a promise.

“I’ve been gone even when I was home. I’ve been choosing work over us… and I didn’t even realize how far away I felt until now.”

You let out a shaky breath, eyes still locked with his.

“I just want time with you,” you whispered. “Not just sex, not just quick dinners between shifts. I want this. You and me. Real time. Slow time.”

Jun-ho’s heart cracked and healed in the same second.

“Then you’ll have it,” he promised. “I’ll take time off. I’ll put the damn phone away. I’ll stop letting work take all of me — because you’re the one I want to give myself to. Not that job. You.”

Your lips parted, surprised.

“Seriously?”

He smiled, nodding.

“Seriously. You want me to take you away somewhere? Just us? No phones, no plans, no alarms? You say the word and I’ll do it.”

You let out a laugh that turned into a small sob, hugging him tightly again.

“You’re gonna make me cry more.”

He chuckled softly and kissed your cheek, then the tip of your nose, then finally your lips — slow, soft, endless.

“I’m gonna make you cry with happiness then,” he whispered. “From now on, you come first. Always.”

You smiled through the tears, snuggling closer into his chest, where his heartbeat felt strong and safe beneath your ear.

“You promise?” you mumbled sleepily.

Jun-ho kissed your hair, tightening his hold around you like he never wanted to let go.

“With all my heart, baby. Stay right here… forever.”

And you did — warm in his arms, full of love, no space between your hearts.

Just the two of you. Finally.

Jun-Ho has always been reckless—too reckless. You knew that when you fell for him. But it’s different when you’re the one watching him bleed.

He stumbles into your apartment at nearly 2 AM, his jacket torn, knuckles split, and a deep gash running along his arm. He barely gets the door shut before you’re on him, eyes scanning every inch of him with a mix of panic and fury.

“What the hell happened?” you demand, already reaching for the first-aid kit.

Jun-Ho exhales sharply, dragging a hand through his damp hair. “It’s nothing.”

You let out a dry, humorless laugh. “Oh, yeah? You look like you got run over.”

“I didn’t.” He shrugs. “Just a bad night.”

A bad night. That’s what he calls showing up at your door looking like this. Like he didn’t just shake hands with death and somehow slip away again.

You drop down in front of him on the couch, yanking his arm toward you with more force than necessary. He barely reacts.

“Stay still,” you mutter, pressing a damp cloth against the wound.

He hisses at the sting, but you ignore it.

“You’re mad,” he says after a moment.

“No shit, I’m mad.” Your hands shake as you press gauze to his skin. “One day, you’re not gonna walk through that door at all.”

He goes quiet.

And that silence? It terrifies you more than anything. Because it means he knows you’re right.

The room feels smaller. The dim glow of the lamp casts long shadows, the only sound between you the soft scrape of gauze and his uneven breaths. When you glance up, Jun-Ho’s eyes are already on you. Always on you.

“I always come back,” he murmurs.

You swallow hard. “That’s not the point.”

His fingers ghost over your wrist, hesitant at first, then firmer, grounding. His grip is warm, steady despite the bruises on his knuckles. “Then tell me what is.”

You don’t answer.

Because you know what he’s asking. What he’s really asking. And if you say it out loud, if you admit what he means to you, then you won’t be able to let go.

“I—” The words catch in your throat.

Then Jun-Ho does something dangerous.

He leans in.

Not enough to kiss you—just enough that his breath brushes your lips, enough that you feel the heat radiating off him.

Your heart slams against your ribs.

“Tell me to leave,” he murmurs. “And I will.”

You should.

You should tell him to leave, should push him away, should protect yourself before he becomes another ghost haunting you.

But when his hand slides up to cup your jaw, when his thumb brushes over your cheek, when his lips hover just close enough to steal your breath—

You don’t.

Instead, your fingers tighten around his wrist, keeping him there.

His throat bobs. His breathing is uneven now, like you’re the one unraveling him.

“You make this hard,” you whisper.

Jun-Ho exhales a quiet, shaky laugh. “And yet, you never let me go.”

It’s not a question. It’s the truth.

And when his lips finally brush against yours, it’s slow, careful—like he’s waiting for you to pull away. But you don’t. You can’t. Because even if this is reckless, even if this hurts, Jun-Ho is here. Alive.

And right now, that’s all that matters.

A/n: Hi my lil monsters! How we likey? First Jun-Ho fic so I’m excited!! Might make a part two if yall want it 😼

Love ya, Twilight

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