20 year old student who survives engineering by day (and night). I write and paint sometimes, whatever I imagine during my free hours.
I made the banner :) and the reason behind a dog and a girl is, i love dogs, and i tried to resemble my pfp Jin ki-joo (the actress from teach you a lesson) from my pfp. As you can see it didnt turn quite well. :,)
◇what's the blog about?
I will share my writing/fanfics, and sometimes art. And I would love to see other's stories and paintings too.
◇Interaction?
No minors (please), although it wont have stories full of NSFW but just in case and in general I dont want any minor interaction. Ty <3
Rest everyone feel free to request stuffs, comment, etc. ♡
◇What's the motive behind my username?
Whale : I love them. They are fav animal <33
Writr : is basically writer (since, writer was already taken so had to go with writr :') )
Hello, I have been reading your posts lately and I was wondering if everything is okay in your life as a student and the rest of the students...
I read about the protest in India taking place because of the leaked information for the competitive exams...
I wish all of you the best, stay healthy and remember that you shape your life (not them), fight for the things you deserve and remind them your worth!!
Heyy!
Well as of now the education minister has given his resignation..but it truly doesnt solve everything. The paper leaks, forgery cheating during such major exams. So its a fight between students Vs the system in a long run.
Yes you read it correctly, every other year there is a leak in this particular competitive exam tbh.
i would also like to bring attention to some other major protests happening across India. I will attempt to make a separate, long-form post on each after i have done more research, but for now:
Manipur protest: Manipur, one of India’s northeastern states, has witnessed violent ethnic conflict between the majority Meitei community and the minority tribal Kuki community since 3 May 2023. Protests are ongoing.
Ken-Betwa River Link Project protest: Tribal families affected by the Ken-Betwa river-linking project launched a 'Chita Andolan' (funeral pyre protest). Led primarily by tribal women, the protest has been underway since July 3 on the banks of the Barana river near Kupi village. The agitation opposed the Ken-Betwa river-linking project and other development works. Their leader, Amit Bhatnagar is on the 18th day of his hunger strike. He is still in the ICU at Madhya Pradesh’s Chhattarpur District Hospital, where he was admitted on July 19. Though he was to be discharged yesterday morning, hospital authorities have not yet permitted his discharge.
Karnataka AI Township Land Acquisition protest: Greater Bengaluru Integrated Township (GBIT) is being developed across Bidadi and Harohalli, roughly 40 km from Bengaluru, spread over nearly 9,600 acres. This will displace farmers.
Nakti demolition drive protest: Residents of Nakti village, whose houses were demolished during an anti-encroachment drive for the proposed MLA colony, staged a protest at the Raipur Collectorate on Wednesday, demanding rehabilitation and reconstruction of their homes.
Amazon Data Centre Protest: Several hundred people staged a protest against a proposed data centre of Amazon in Balkum area of Thane city. It would pose an environmental threat, create noise pollution and consume large amounts of water and electricity. The data centre, planned on a 53-acre plot, will require at least 12 million litres of water every day besides "unlimited electricity". It was also apprehended that it would generate continuous noise, posing a health risk as large residential complexes, five schools and three hospitals including a children's hospital are located within its one km radius.
Although I am spending most of my time with my exam preparation. I have been following the news as in the protest going on from time to time. Besides that, its quite disheartening to hear from my classmates who are fooling around and commenting that 'the kids deserve to be beaten by the police etc.' Like what thw hell, thats disrespectful as fuck. I have stopped arguing with them and justifying them because if they had enough brains they would know the reason behind this protest. Even my roommate is against it saying, 'Government has already provided them with a Re-Test so why are they creating a chaos out of nowhere. Its stupid etc'.
Its a good thing that my bf and I share the same view when it comes to political stuffs, especially when it came to this issue. He showed support and empathy just like so many of us. We don't belong from medical background. Both of us are doing engineering, still its our voice against injustice, against our education minister who failed to protect the students of this country.
People are truly blind when it comes to all these. There would be People like this commenting stuffs about it around you, its better to ignore and move past them. Arguing with the stupid is a waste of time. My heart still goes out to those who lost their lives for this exam, and to those who are still fighting.
hi! may I request a hwajin fic that is angst, where reader and hwajin are broken up for a while because hwajin has issues (not living in the present because of ga-yun) and reader got sick of it and left and now hwajin is thinking about the whole thing/how to get reader back cause he realized ga-yun won't like that he still hasn't moved on and all
to get into the feels i suggest listening to did you like her in the morning? and apartment we won't share by niki hehe
tysm author!! do take ur time <3 i will be patiently waiting 🎀
Strangers (Na Hwa-jin x f! Reader)
GENRE : angst, betrayal, happy ending ? -depends
WARNING : cuss, bullying, blood
SUMMARY : you a teacher at a high-school and you were the one to complain about the gruesome bullying going around in the school. Its easier to complain as you can directly address it to your boyfriend, Na Hwajin. But what happens when the school is the same one where Ga-yun died? And In the same corridor you get hurt too? How does that affect Hwa-jin.
A/n thank you for your request, writing angst is my fav genre :) hope you like it.
It was late in the afternoon, when you were just finishing up your lunch so that you would be there on time for your fifth-period class. As a literature teacher at Myeongseo High School, you had seen your fair share of academic pressure and teenage rebellion, but over the last few months, the atmosphere in the hallways had curdled into something far more sinister.
A ruthless ring of rich, entitled bullies had turned the school into their personal hunting ground. They didn't just push kids around; they systematically destroyed them. Broken bones, psychological torture, coerced money, it was gruesome. When the school administration repeatedly turned a blind eye to shield their own reputations, you decided you’d had enough.
It was easy to take action, mainly because you didn't have to navigate red tape. You could report it directly to the the Educational Rights Protection Bureau and thanks to your boyfriend who worked there, could be directly contacted.
When you gave him the confidential file three days ago, Hwa-jin’s face had darkened with a chilling intensity. But neither of you had realized the cruel twist of fate until ERPB launched its official investigation: Myeongseo High was the exact same school where Ga-yun, Hwa-jin’s late fiancée, had been driven to her tragic death years ago.
The weight of that haunting memory hung heavy over the school, but today, the tragedy almost repeated itself in the most horrific way possible.
The confrontation happened faster than anyone could react.
You were escorting a bruised, trembling victim down the third-floor corridor when Kang Dae-hothe ringleader of the bullies, driven into a corner by ERPB’s sudden raid, snapped. Unhinged, desperate, and brandishing a sharp, stolen box cutter, the boy came sprinting from around the corner, his eyes wild with psychotic rage.
"You ruined everything, you bitch!" Dae-ho screamed, lunging directly at you with the blade pointed straight for your chest.
Your breath hitched. Time slowed to a agonizing crawl. The cold glint of metal flashed in the fluorescent lights. You braced for the tearing pain, closing your eyes tight—
Thud.
A heavy, sickening sound echoed through the hallway, followed by the wet, metallic smell of fresh blood.
Pain never came for you. Instead, a towering body crashed forward, wrapping around you like an impenetrable shield. You opened your eyes to find Hwa-jin’s face inches from yours. His dark eyes, usually so fierce and calculating, blew wide with shock. A sharp gasp escaped his lips.
"Hwa... Hwa-jin?" you whispered, your voice trembling.
He didn't answer. Slowly, his weight caved into you. You looked down, and terror seized your throat. Kang Dae-ho’s blade was buried deep into the side of Hwa-jin’s abdomen, crimson soaking rapidly through his crisp white shirt and dark coat. He had thrown himself into the trajectory of the knife, taking the full brunt of the blow meant for you.
"No, no, no! Hwa-jin!" you shrieked, catching him as his knees buckled.
The corridor erupted into chaos. Han-rim tackled the hysterical student to the ground, screaming for an ambulance, but the world went silent around you. You collapsed onto the polished linoleum floor, cradling Hwa-jin’s head in your lap, pressing your hands frantically against his bleeding wound.
"Stay with me, please! Look at me, Hwa-jin!" you sobbed, tears blinding your vision as blood seeped through your fingers, warm and terrifyingly thick.
Hwa-jin lifted a weak, shaking hand, his fingers lightly brushing your cheek. His lips parted, gasping for air that wouldn't come. "Y/N..." he choked out, his eyelids fluttering heavily before his hand went limp, dropping to the floor.
The emergency room was a nightmare of flashing lights, sterile smells, and desperate orders shouted by doctors. By the time Hwa-jin was pulled out of surgery and transferred to an ICU room, night had fully fallen over Seoul. The knife had nicked an artery; he had lost a critical amount of blood, and though the doctors patched him up, he remained unconscious, hooked up to heart monitors and IV drips.
You hadn't washed your hands. The dried, rust-colored stain of his blood remained under your fingernails as you sat rigidly in the plastic chair beside his bed.
It was around 3:00 AM when the monitor began to beep erratically.
Hwa-jin shifted restlessly on the mattress. Pale, sweaty, and trapped in the suffocating clutches of a deep fever dream, his brow furrowed in immense agony. You immediately stood up, leaning over him, gently grabbing his cold, uninjured hand.
"Hwa-jin? I'm here. I'm right here," you whispered softly, stroking his forehead. "You're safe."
His head tossed to the side, his chest heaving under the thin hospital blanket. His lips trembled, strained in a desperate struggle to speak through the haze of medication and nightmare.
"No... stop..." Hwa-jin rasped, his voice laced with an agonizing, raw grief that sent a cold shiver down your spine. "Don't... leave her..."
You leaned closer, your heart pounding against your ribs. "Hwa-jin?"
He squeezed your hand with a sudden, desperate strength, but his face remained twisted in anguish. A single tear slipped from his closed eyes, pooling into the pillow.
"...Ga-yun," he whimpered, a broken, shattered whisper echoing in the quiet room. "Ga-yun... please..."
The room went completely still.
Your breath caught in your throat, feeling as though someone had reached into your chest and violently ripped your heart out with bare hands. The silence that followed was deafening, broken only by the rhythmic, unfeeling beep-beep-beep of the heart monitor.
Ga-yun.
Not your name.
In the horrifying moment where he stepped in front of a blade, in the feverish darkness where his soul fought for survival... he wasn't thinking about you. He was back in that cursed hallway, seeing the ghost of his dead fiancée.
Slowly, agonizingly, your fingers slipped out of his grip. You backed away from the bed, staring at the man you loved, a profound, suffocating emptiness taking root inside your soul. You were just a surrogate, wasn't you? A tragic coincidence standing in the same hallway where he lost her, serving as a second chance for him to rewrite a ghost's destiny.
You buried your face in your hands and sobbed silently in the dark corner of the room, completely shattered.
Two days later, Hwa-jin finally woke up.
When you entered the room, he was sitting up, his pale face instantly lighting up the moment his eyes landed on you. "Y/N," he rasped, his voice scratchy. He reached out his hand toward you, his expression filled with relief. "Thank God... you're okay. Are you hurt? Did that bastard touching you?"
You didn't take his hand. You stayed standing at the foot of the bed, your eyes hollow, dark circles bruised beneath them.
Hwa-jin’s smile faltered, a flicker of confusion crossing his feature. "Y/N? What's wrong?"
"Did you take that knife for me, Hwa-jin?" you asked, your voice eerily calm, void of any warmth. "Or did you take it because you saw her?"
Hwa-jin blinked, stunned. "What are you talking about?"
"When you were unconscious... when you were thrashing around in pain," you swallowed the lump in your throat, feeling the sting of fresh tears burning your eyes, "you held my hand and cried out for Ga-yun. You begged her not to leave."
Hwa-jin froze. His face went deathly pale, shock paralyzing his limbs. "I... what? Y/N, no—I was delirious, I don't even remember—"
"I know you don't!" you snapped, your voice breaking as the tears finally spilled over. "That's the worst part! It came from your subconscious, Hwa-jin! I was standing there, dying of fear for your life, covered in your blood, and all you could see was your dead fiancée! Am I just a replacement to you? A second attempt at saving the girl you couldn't save years ago?!"
"No! That’s not true! Y/N, look at me!" Hwa-jin panicked, trying to swing his legs over the side of the bed, but the sharp pull on his stitches made him gasp in agony, clutching his side. "Damn it—Y/N, Darling, listen to me! I love you! You are not a replacement!"
"I need space," you whispered, taking a step back as he struggled to reach you.
"No, don't do this," he begged, his dark eyes wide with an unprecedented terror. He had faced down ruthless criminals, corrupt politicians, and brutal gangs without flinching, but right now, looking at the dead quiet in your eyes, he was utterly terrified. "Please, Y/N. Don't leave." His eyes glistened, it was the first time you saw him so weak, so regretful and almost trembling upon hearing how much he hurt you. His heart beats got stronger and sharper as he watched you stand up and leave, almost as if you have started to detest him.
"We need a break," you said softly, wiping a cold tear from your cheek. "I can't look at you right now without wondering who you see when you look at me. Don't call me, Hwa-jin. Please."
Before he could scream your name again, you turned around and walked out of the room, leaving him alone with the hollow sound of his own heavy breathing.
A break, you had said.
A break turned from a few days into two excruciating weeks, and then into a month.
Hwa-jin was discharged from the hospital, but he was a shell of his former self. He couldn't sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, he was haunted by the nightmare he had suffered in the ICU—the very dream he couldn't recall when you first confronted him, but which now haunted his every waking thought. Every day he woke up in sweats, imagining you near his doorway until he realised it was all a distant memory.
Upon recalling his nightmare, he hadn't been trying to save Ga-yun from the knife. In the dream, Ga-yun’s ghost stood at the end of that dark, bloody hallway in Myeongseo High, looking at him with cold, weeping eyes, shouting at him: "Why are you standing here staring at me?! She's bleeding out, Hwa-jin! You left her alone in that hallway just like you left me! Go back to her!"
He had called out Ga-yun's name in his sleep not out of longing for his past, but out of absolute, paralyzing guilt that his past trauma had almost cost him the woman who meant the absolute world to him today. He had lost Ga-yun years ago; he couldn't bear the thought that his ghost was the thing killing you.
He finally understood. But it was too late.
When he drove to your apartment building, his heart pounding in his throat, he found your unit completely empty. The landlord informed him cold-heartedly that you had packed up your belongings, handed in your lease, and moved out weeks ago without leaving a forwarding address.
When he called your school, the principal informed him that you had submitted a sudden resignation and transferred out of the district entirely.
You had completely isolated yourself. erased your footprint. vanished into thin air.
Hwa-jin stood in the middle of your abandoned apartment, the faint, lingering scent of your vanilla perfume still hanging in the empty air.
He sank down onto the cold, wooden floor, burying his face in his large, calloused hands. A low, ragged sob tore through his throat.
He remembered the way you used to laugh when he made ridiculous excuses just to hold your hand. He remembered the quiet, warm mornings where you would brew coffee while he leaned against the counter, completely intoxicated by the simple, beautiful life you had built together. He remembered how gently you cared for his scars, never knowing that the deepest one would be inflicted by his own broken past.
He had saved dozens of kids. He had torn down monsters and brought justice to the broken. But standing in the quiet ruins of his own home, Na Hwa-jin realized he had committed the ultimate, unforgivable crime.
He had made the woman he loved feel like a stranger in her own life.
And as the rain began to pour softly against the windowpanes of the empty room, the formidable agent of the ERPB closed his eyes and wept for the second time in his life, wondering if the ghost of his past had permanently stolen his only chance at a future.
-
A/N : Oops I made this more angsty than I intended. I really wanted adifferent ending but I have been having a rough time with my studies too so I kinda wrote something rough like this. Do you wanna see a part 2 of this? Let me know or i will leave it open ended.
I would be on a short break till 8th of August and bring some special fics I have planned. So stay tuned.
So, this is something unrelated to my posts. I come from India and there is this protest going on regarding The resignation of our Education Minister due to a major leak in Competitive Exam for medical exam. This caused a huge ruckus over the past few months along with several students took their lives too. I want to bring everyone's attention that due to such discrepancy and lack of accountability of the government, us students are suffering, hence the protest. Among these people out for protest, there is a very renowned Engineer from our place who is a part of this protest as well as in a hunger strike, this is his 16th day. His name is Sonam Wangchuk. Sir's health is deteriorating as the day is passing by. Yet there is no response from the government. We as students don't want to lose such eminent person and since I am not on any social media other than Tumblr, it is my humble request to reblog and share this as much as you can. It doesnt matter if we can't be there physically for the protest, we can raise our voice through social platform.
So, this is something unrelated to my posts. I come from India and there is this protest going on regarding The resignation of our Education Minister due to a major leak in Competitive Exam for medical exam. This caused a huge ruckus over the past few months along with several students took their lives too. I want to bring everyone's attention that due to such discrepancy and lack of accountability of the government, us students are suffering, hence the protest. Among these people out for protest, there is a very renowned Engineer from our place who is a part of this protest as well as in a hunger strike, this is his 16th day. His name is Sonam Wangchuk. Sir's health is deteriorating as the day is passing by. Yet there is no response from the government. We as students don't want to lose such eminent person and since I am not on any social media other than Tumblr, it is my humble request to reblog and share this as much as you can. It doesnt matter if we can't be there physically for the protest, we can raise our voice through social platform.
So, this is something unrelated to my posts. I come from India and there is this protest going on regarding The resignation of our Education Minister due to a major leak in Competitive Exam for medical exam. This caused a huge ruckus over the past few months along with several students took their lives too. I want to bring everyone's attention that due to such discrepancy and lack of accountability of the government, us students are suffering, hence the protest. Among these people out for protest, there is a very renowned Engineer from our place who is a part of this protest as well as in a hunger strike, this is his 16th day. His name is Sonam Wangchuk. Sir's health is deteriorating as the day is passing by. Yet there is no response from the government. We as students don't want to lose such eminent person and since I am not on any social media other than Tumblr, it is my humble request to reblog and share this as much as you can. It doesnt matter if we can't be there physically for the protest, we can raise our voice through social platform.
➤ Beyond the Bar, Trauma Code, Harry Potter..(more to be added)
𝑾𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝑰 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑰 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 ↴
➤ I write crime/thriller, fluffs, angst, slow-burn romance, slightly 16+ not NSFW
➤ I am sorry I don't write smut or any category of sexual stuff as of now. I don't know if I will write any in future. So, please don't request me to write any. Thank you :) (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)
I will be active just this week after that I would be out till 8th of August and come back with new stuffs. After this week, I won't be accepting requests until 1st week of August. I hope you understand :)
I might come up with a totally new fic for a new k drama in the month of August.
GENRE : all fluffs, Na Hwajin being a clingy lover.
WARNING : none
SUMMARY : These days, Hwa-jin gets to spend less time with you as the pressure on ERPB is more with the increase in the number of cases in the city and even outskirts. You knew, he had a job that needed him right at the moment and in the middle of whatever he was busy with in his personal life. It was a bit of a habit over time for you, but it wasn't safe to say it was the same for Hwa-jin. He missed you all the time, and needed you by his side even during missions as much as it wasn't allowed.
A/n : thank you for this wholesome ask, anon! Hope you like it
The rain in Incheon had a habit of making the city feel smaller, trapping everyone under a heavy, grey blanket. Inside your apartment, however, the world was reduced to the soft hum of the refrigerator, the rhythmic clicking of your laptop keyboard, and the steady, comforting weight of the duvet, spread all over over as you worked on a report.
It had been three weeks since you last saw Hwa-jin in person. Three weeks of brief, midnight phone calls that usually ended with him sighing deeply into the receiver, his voice gravelly with exhaustion, before he had to hang up to handle another crisis the next day. The ERPB was being stretched to its absolute limit. A sudden spike in severe school violence cases away from the city and in a township meant Hwa-jin and others were seperated from their home for a long time, tearing down corrupt administrations and dealing with delinquent rings.
You understood. You really did. Being an crime reporter yourself, you knew the weight of jobs which required constant moving. You had eventually adapted to the empty space on the couch, the cold side of the bed, and the quiet apartment. People around you kept commenting, on how this made you lonely; yet you thought of it as a habit- indeed a lonely one, but a habit nonetheless.
But as for your husband? It was a completely different story.
Beneath that chaotic, untouchable exterior, Na Hwa-jin was a man possessed by a quiet, fierce possessiveness when it came to you. He didn’t handle the distance well. If he could have legally or illegally appointed you as his permanent partner-in-crime on every single ERPB deployment, he would have done it in a heartbeat.
Your phone suddenly buzzed on the coffee table, vibrating violently against the wood. You picked it up, a small smile instantly forming when you saw the caller ID.
"Hey," you answered softly.
A long, dramatic groan echoed through the speaker, followed by the sound of a car door slamming and the faint chatter or you can say a shriek of Hanrim in the background. "I am dying. Officially. My cause of death will be extreme deprivation of my favorite person."
You chuckled, leaning back into the pillow. "Rough day at the office?"
"We just wrapped up a case in Gyeonggi. I’ve been stuck in a car with Bong Geun Dae and Han-rim for three hours, and he refuses to let me smoke," Hwa-jin complained, his voice dropping into that low, magnetic register that always made your stomach do a soft flip. "But that’s not the main issue. The main issue is that I haven’t seen your face in twenty-one days. For your information I counted. Do you know how hard it is to maintain a terrifying reputation when all I want to do is drag you away from all these menace and be somewhere with just is?"
"I miss you too, Hwa-jin. But you're saving kids. You're doing important work."
"Let Han-rim and Geun Dae save them for a day," he muttered, completely shameless. You could practically hear the pout in his voice. "I told the Minister today that we need to hire an external specialized journalist for our upcoming missions to report our work to the media. I explicitly recommended you. He told me to stop abusing my power in bringing my wife."
"He’s right, you know," you laughed, a warm flush rising to your cheeks. "I have my own cases to handle."
"I don't care about logic right now," Hwa-jin murmured, his tone suddenly shifting from playful to incredibly soft, laced with a genuine, aching vulnerability that he only ever showed to you. "I just want to come home to you, darling. I'm so tired."
Your heart melted, a wave of profound affection washing over you. "How far away are you?"
"About twenty minutes from our house. They are dropping me off. I have a few days' window before my next briefing, and I intend to spend every single second of it attached to your side."
"I'll be waiting," you said softly. "Drive safe."
The moment the line went dead, you sprung into action. You closed your laptop, tossed it onto the desk, and practically ran to the kitchen. If Hwa-jin was exhausted, he needed comfort food. You quickly put a pot of water on the stove to make a simple, hearty stew, threw a batch of rice into the cooker, and ran around the living room tidying up the area.
Precisely twenty-two minutes later, the electronic lock on your front door beeped.
The door swung open, and there he stood. Hwa-jin looked a bit disheveled, his usually perfectly styled dark hair was messy from the rain, his tie was loosened and hanging haphazardly around his neck, and his long black coat was damp. But the moment his dark eyes locked onto yours, the exhaustion seemed to vanish from his face, replaced by a look of pure, unadulterated relief.
He didn't even bother taking off his shoes properly, kicking them off at the entryway before taking three long, sweeping strides across the room. Before you could even say welcome home, Hwa-jin’s long arms wrapped securely around your waist. He lifted you right off your feet, burying his face into the crook of your neck and planted a soft kiss on either sides on your cheeks.
"Ah... finally," he breathed out, his grip tightening as if he were trying to merge you into his very bones. He inhaled deeply, taking in the familiar, comforting scent of your shampoo and the warmth of your skin.
You wrapped your arms tightly around his broad shoulders, burying your fingers in the damp strands of his hair. "Missed me that much?" you whispered, smiling into his shoulder as he gently set your feet back on the ground, though he didn't dare loosen his grip.
"More than you can possibly comprehend," Hwa-jin murmured. He pulled back just enough to look at you, his large hands cupping your face with a tenderness that completely contradicted his fearsome reputation. He scanned every inch of your face, his eyes warm and heavy with affection. "You look beautiful. Have you been eating well? You look like you lost weight. Did you miss me? Tell me you missed me."
You let out a small hearty laugh, upon listening to his concern. "I missed you terribly," you smiled, leaning into his touch. "And I've been eating just fine. I actually just made some stew."
Instead of answering, Hwa-jin leaned down and captured your lips in a deep, lingering kiss. It wasn't demanding or chaotic like he usually was; it was slow, sweet, and filled with a desperate, quiet devotion that made your knees feel weak. His lips were cool from the rain outside, but they quickly warmed against yours. He kissed you as if he had all the time in the world, his thumb gently stroking your cheekbone.
When he finally pulled away, his dark eyes were hooded, a soft smile playing on his lips. "The stew can wait. Right now, I need to hold you."
But you lightly pushed him away, placing your hands on his chest to stop him.
"Go change out of those damp clothes, you idiot," you laughed, giving his chest a playful shove. "I’ll set the table." He let out an annoying groan, like a child who has been denied from playing.
A few minutes later, Hwa-jin emerged from the bedroom wearing a pair of soft grey sweatpants and an oversized black t-shirt that you had bought him. Without the sharp suits and the imposing aura of the ERPB, he looked incredibly boyish, his damp hair falling naturally across his forehead.
He sat down at the small dining table, immediately reaching out to grab your hand the second you sat down across from him. Even as he ate, he refused to let go, awkwardly navigating his spoon with his left hand just so he could keep his right fingers intertwined with yours.
"You know, it’s really hard to eat when you’re holding my hand like a lifeline," you pointed out, though you made no move to pull away.
"Deal with it," Hwa-jin replied smoothly, taking a bite of the rice. "This is my emotional support hand. If I let go, I might dissolve into a puddle of stress."
"You are so dramatic."
"I am a man of passion," he corrected, his voice dropping slightly as he squeezed your fingers. "Seriously, Y/N. The city is getting chaotic. Every school we visit has some new mess. And the entire time I’m dealing with arrogant principals or bratty delinquents, all I can think about is how much better the day would be if you were standing next to me."
"I don't think the Minister would appreciate me distracting his top agent."
"I'm not distracted by you," Hwa-jin murmured, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. "You're the only thing that keeps me focused. When the world gets loud, you're the quiet I look forward to."
The sheer sincerity in his voice caught you off guard. You squeezed his hand back, your eyes softening. "Then I'll always be here when you get back. No matter how long it takes."
After dinner, Hwa-jin absolutely refused to let you do the dishes alone. He stood right behind you at the sink, his chest pressed firmly against your back, his long arms reaching around you to wash the plates while you rinsed them. It was completely impractical and resulted in water splashing onto the floor, but neither of you cared. He kept pressing soft, fleeting kisses to the side of your neck and your shoulder, whispering ridiculous complaints about his colleagues just to hear you laugh.
Once the kitchen was clean, Hwa-jin practically dragged you to the living room.
He pulled the large, fluffy duvet off the bed and spread it across the couch. He sat down first, leaning back against the armrest, and immediately pulled you down into his lap. You settled against his chest, your back against his torso, as he wrapped the blanket tightly around both of you, locking you in a warm, impenetrable cocoon.
The rain continued to patter softly against the windowpane, creating a soothing, rhythmic white noise. The apartment was dimly lit, the only illumination coming from the soft glow of a movie playing on the television, though neither of you were actually watching it.
Hwa-jin rested his chin on your shoulder, his long fingers gently tracing patterns along your forearm beneath the blanket.
"This is perfect," he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. "No phones. No cases. No high school bullies. Just us." He shifted slightly, tightening his arms around you, pulling you so close that you could feel the steady, reassuring thud of his heartbeat against your back. It was a grounding rhythm, one that instantly washed away all the lingering loneliness of the past three weeks.
"Sometimes," you began quietly, staring at the television screen, "I worry that the job takes too much out of you. You carry a lot of anger for the sake of those kids, Hwa-jin."
Hwa-jin was silent for a moment, his fingers pausing their movements on your arm. When he spoke, his voice was remarkably gentle, devoid of the sharp edge he used against the rest of the world. "I do. The world can be a pretty ugly place, you see it too, in your line of work. People can be cruel, especially to those who can't defend themselves."
He turned his head slightly, pressing his lips to your cheek, holding the kiss there for a long, tender moment.
"But when I come back here... when I hold you like this, and I see how kind you are, how safe this room feels... all that anger just evaporates," he murmured against your cheek. "You're my reset button. As long as I have this to come back to, I can handle whatever the city throws at me."
Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, filled with a warmth that spread all the way to your toes. You turned your head, meeting his gaze. In the dim light, his dark eyes were incredibly soft, filled with a profound, unwavering adoration that belonged entirely to you.
"I love you, Hwa-jin," you whispered.
Hwa-jin’s expression softened even further, a breathless, genuinely happy smile gracing his handsome features. He leaned in, capturing your lips in another kiss; this one sweet, slow, and full of a quiet promise.
"I love you more, Y/N," he murmured against your lips when he broke the kiss. "And don't argue with me on that. I'm the supervisor here; my word is final."
"Unbelievable," you laughed softly, resting your head back against his chest. "You really can't leave the job at the door, can you?"
"Only the parts that let me win arguments against you," he teased, his hand moving to gently stroke your hair, his fingers threading through the strands in a slow, hypnotic motion.
The warmth of the blanket, the soft purring of the kittens, and the gentle rhythm of Hwa-jin’s fingers in your hair quickly began to work their magic. The exhaustion of the past few weeks finally caught up to both of you. Your eyelids grew heavy, and you let out a soft yawn, shifting closer into his embrace.
Hwa-jin noticed, his chest shaking with a silent, affectionate chuckle. He pulled the duvet up a bit higher, tucking it securely around your shoulders.
"Sleep, sweetheart," he whispered, his voice incredibly gentle, a soothing lullaby against the backdrop of the falling rain. "I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere."
"Promise?" you mumbled, your voice already thick with sleep.
"I promise," Hwa-jin murmured, pressing one final, lingering kiss to the top of your head. He rested his cheek against your hair, closing his eyes as his arms held you securely against his chest.
Outside, the city continued its chaotic, fast-paced rush through the rainy night, filled with cases, deadlines, and noise. But inside the small, dimly lit apartment, the world had slowed down to an absolute crawl. There was no distance, no pressure, and no loneliness. Just the quiet, heavy warmth of a man who loved you entirely, completely content to spend his hard-earned peace exactly where he belonged with you.
-
A/N : I kinda lost rhythm while writing as it gets overwhelming sometimes with my exam and studies, I tend to lose motivation or go blank amidst writing, still I tried to write just like I thought/imagined. Hope it's up to your liking :)
Summary: Cornered by the harassment of your own students, you find a lifeline when the ERPB steps in. The assigned inspector turns out to be Na Hwa-jin, your high school best friend… the same boy you rejected in the past, who vanished from your life without a trace.
Note: English is not my first language so feel free to tell me if there are any mistakes.
You finished calling out the last name on the roster, marked them present and looked up at the clock hanging on the back wall of the classroom. The ancient air conditioner was doing nothing to cut through the suffocating heat, but that was the least of your problems. Your personal hell sat right in front of you, spread across thirty individual desks that felt like they were closing in on you. The air was thick with hostility, a heavy weight that always left your chest aching by the end of the day.
To an outsider, a senior literature class should have been a space for debate or, at the very least, bored silence. But at this school, classroom 4-1 had become your own private purgatory.
You were a teacher here, a career you had chosen as a calling but that now felt like psychological torture. For months, you had been the target of non-stop, increasingly aggressive harassment from your own students.
These weren't harmless teenage pranks. They were double entendres, leering stares that stripped you bare without a shred of decency and obscene notes left on your desk that no one ever owned up to. The boundary of respect between teacher and student had been completely pulverized, leaving you exposed in a game where the deck was stacked against you.
"Hey, teach..." the voice of Jung-hoon, the undisputed ringleader of the class, cut through the low chatter.
He wasn't looking at you. His eyes were still glued to his phone screen, but the smug smirk on his face told you exactly what was coming. His lackeys straightened up in their seats, ready for the daily show.
"That poem we read yesterday was all about passion and desire" the boy continued, finally looking up to lock his eyes on you with blatant disrespect. "It got me thinking… do you get that passionate when you leave this place, or are you only boring when you're with us? Maybe you just need someone who actually knows how to handle you."
A chorus of muffled snickers, crude whispers and rhythmic tapping on the desks erupted from the back of the room. You felt the blood rush to your cheeks, a hot wave of helplessness burning in your throat. You gripped the whiteboard marker so hard your knuckles turned white. You knew you couldn't show weakness. Fear was like blood in the water to the sharks in this room… if they caught a whiff of it, they would tear you to pieces.
"Jung-hoon, put your phone away immediately and open your book to page 142" you said, making a superhuman effort to keep your voice steady, even as your soul trembled inside.
"And what if I don't want to?" he shot back, though he slid the phone into his pocket anyway. He kicked his legs out, interlacing his hands behind his head as he blatantly ran his eyes down your body. "What are you gonna do? Write me up? Go ahead. My dad can clear that from the system with a single phone call. But hey, if you want, we can stay after class alone and you can explain that 'desire' part to me a little better. Maybe then I'll actually listen and learn something useful."
The laughter this time was louder, shattering any remaining semblance of order. Another boy in the back let out a crude catcall. You swallowed the tears that threatened to blur your vision, a suffocating knot tightening in your throat until you could barely breathe.
You felt trapped… no, you were trapped.
You had no choice but to keep quiet, bite your tongue and keep working as if nothing had happened. You had already tried to get the school administration to step in last month. You had gone to the principal with proof, showing him the notes they left on your desk. But the system’s response was always the same: a patronizing pat on the back, useless advice on "classroom management" and a blunt reminder that the school couldn't afford to lose the hefty donations from the wealthy families of these juvenile delinquents. Money talked and you were completely expendable. You desperately needed your paycheck to cover the debts piled up after your disastrous split from Ha-joon, so you had no choice but to duck your head, swallow your pride and endure the daily humiliation while praying internally for the final bell to ring.
Suddenly, the classroom's sliding door opened smoothly.
The chatter in the room died down, caught off guard by someone interrupting the class dynamic in the middle of the morning.
You snapped your head up. A tall man stepped into the room, his sheer presence instantly commanding the attention of the entire class. He wore a sharp black suit, impeccably tailored to his broad shoulders, with a black dress shirt underneath that gave him a sober, elegant aura. His appearance was meticulously put together…. his straight, dark hair was styled with long bangs falling attractively across his forehead. He was clean-shaven, with a sharp jawline and an expression of absolute serenity, wearing a gentle smile that made him look harmless, professional and strangely peaceful.
Your breath caught in your throat.
Your eyes widened and the whiteboard marker slipped from your fingers, hitting the floor and rolling with a dull thud that no one else seemed to notice. Your mind began to spin in a whirlwind of memories you had kept buried through years of heartache and disappointment. His features were more mature now, more masculine, but you would recognize those eyes anywhere in the world.
It was Na Hwa-jin.
The shock of seeing him again after all these years made your head spin, forcing you to grip the edge of the desk for balance. Your mind flashed back in time, returning to the hallways of your high school when you both shared the same classroom. You had been best friends, inseparable confidants who spent every afternoon studying and sharing secrets. Hwa-jin had been your safe haven until the fateful day he confessed he was in love with you. Back then, your heart already belonged to another boy in school… to Ha-joon. With all the clumsy honesty of youth, you turned him down, telling him you could only ever see him as a friend.
From that exact day, he cut you out of his life completely. The beautiful friendship you shared shattered in an instant and you stopped speaking, turning overnight into complete strangers who merely shared a past.
It had hurt you deeply. You had cried over his absence for months because you truly missed him; he was your best friend in the world. You had always believed he simply distanced himself to heal his bruised pride and forget the pain of rejection.
You didn't have the slightest clue about the reality.
You had never noticed that, for the rest of high school, Hwa-jin had spent every single minute of class staring fixedly at your every move from his desk in the back, developing a deep, dark obsession you never once detected.
To you, he was just the lost friend who didn't know how to handle a "no".
Over the years, that obsession seemed to have been buried in the dark recesses of his mind. You had heard through rumors that Hwa-jin had gotten married, that he had tried to live the life of an ordinary man, but that tragedy had struck him in the cruelest way: his wife was brutally murdered by one of her own students. That traumatic event had completely broken him and it was the catalyst for the creation of the ERPB.
And now, whether by fate or the worst kind of coincidence, he was standing in your very classroom.
Hwa-jin walked slowly toward the front of the room, keeping that placid smile on his face, perfectly concealing the predator within. He stopped a few feet from your desk, locking eyes with you and, for a second, the intensity in his gaze was overwhelming.
Seeing you there… so pale, anxious and backed into a corner by a pack of teenagers, something clicked in his mind. The obsession he had spent years trying to bury woke up with the force of a volcano. You looked so broken, it made him want to claim every single piece of you.
Yet, true to his agency's protocol, Hwa-jin didn't let a fraction of that psychotic chaos show. He didn't yell, he didn't make a scene... he simply gave you a polite nod, displaying flawless manners that contrasted sharply with the disrespect running rampant in the room.
"Good morning, teacher" he said, his voice smooth and gentle. "I am inspector Na Hwa-jin from the ERPB. I have been assigned to this institution to observe and evaluate classroom dynamics. Please, disregard my presence and carry on with your lesson as if I weren't here."
He walked with total composure down the side aisle, picked an empty desk at the back of the room and sat down, crossing one leg over the other and leaning back comfortably.
You stood frozen to the spot, your legs feeling like lead. Could it be that he didn't recognize you? You bent down to pick up the marker, trying to process the sheer unreality of the situation. Was it pure coincidence that out of all the classes, he was assigned to yours? Your hands were still shaking as you stood before the board and tried to pick up where you left off with the poem, but your focus was completely shot. You could feel Hwa-jin’s gaze burning into your back, but every time you turned around, you found him staring directly at your students.
Far from being intimidated by his presence, the boys began to whisper among themselves in irritation. They didn't really know what the ERPB was, they just saw a well-dressed guy intruding on their territory. Jung-hoon was pissed, clicking his tongue in annoyance since the inspector had ruined his perfect moment to mess with you. He turned fully around in his seat to glare at the man in the back with utter contempt, eager to regain control of the room in front of his peers.
"Hey, inspector" Jung-hoon called out loudly, drawling his words mockingly. "What are you supposed to be doing back there just sitting around? This is a school, not a waiting room. Or did you come to protect the teacher's skirt because she doesn't know how to handle her own class?"
Several boys in the back rows let out complicit snickers. The room filled with mocking whispers.
"If you don't have anything useful to do, I suggest you grab your things and get the hell out the way you came. My dad is the head of the school board and he doesn't like outsiders getting in our way."
It was at that exact moment that Hwa-jin decided the time for pleasantries was over and it was time to show them what he really was.
The polite smile didn't leave his face, but his eyes turned completely dead… devoid of a single shred of empathy or humanity. He stood up and unbuttoned his suit jacket, maintaining a calm that was infinitely more terrifying than any shout. He walked forward with slow, deliberate steps, stopping right beside Jung-hoon’s desk.
"Your dad?" Hwa-jin asked, tilting his head subtly. "How precious that you need to hide behind your parents to feel like somebody. But let me clear something up for you, punk…"
Hwa-jin leaned in slightly, planting a single hand flat on the boy's wooden desk. His imposing frame completely blocked out the light, trapping Jung-hoon in his own space and forcing him to look up.
"The ERPB doesn't give a flying fuck who your dad is, how much money he has or who he knows" Hwa-jin continued, his voice dangerously low. "From this exact second, I am the only law inside this school. I have the authority to report any infraction that violates educational rights and the power to take disciplinary action. The type of punishment..." he said, slamming his other hand onto the desk "...is entirely up to me. If I hear you disrespecting the teacher again, or if I catch you looking at her the wrong way even once… I won't hesitate to resort to corporate punishment."
"You guys aren't allowed to hit us anymore" Jung-hoon stammered.
"I have special dispensation to do whatever it takes. Want me to prove it to you?" Hwa-jin asked. "Just so we can clear up any doubts."
Jung-hoon went pale instantly. The arrogance and "bad boy" facade were wiped away in a flash, replaced by sheer terror. The boy swallowed hard, visibly shrinking into his seat and dropping his gaze down to his own lap, completely unable to hold the man's eyes. Despite his calm appearance, Hwa-jin radiated the aura of a man who wouldn't hesitate to carry out his threat right then and there.
He straightened up with total composure, adjusted the lapels of his black suit jacket and smiled again with that skin-crawling serenity. He turned his body slowly back toward you, completely ignoring the rest of the students who now sat petrified in their seats.
You were still motionless behind your desk, your heart racing in your chest, the poem entirely forgotten on the board. The fear you had felt toward your students for months had vanished in an instant, but a chill ran down your spine as you discovered the sheer darkness your former best friend hid behind his manners. The sweet boy you remembered from high school was gone; in his place stood a lethal man who seemed to be playing a very dangerous game.
"You may proceed with the class, teacher" Hwa-jin said amiably, turning on his heel to head back to his seat. "I am certain the boys will be on their absolute best behavior today. Right, Jung-hoon?"
The boy didn't even dare to breathe heavily, keeping his eyes glued to the wood of his desk as he gave a tight nod. The rest of the class followed suit, opening their textbooks in absolute, dead silence.
You stole one last look at Hwa-jin before turning back to the board. Your hands were still ice-cold, but for the first time in months, you didn't feel like crying.
(...)
The bell announcing the end of the block finally rang, echoing through your ears.
For the past fifty minutes, classroom 4-1 had remained in total silence… an anomaly you hadn't experienced since the day you started at this school. The students had barely dared to rustle their papers, acutely aware that the imposing figure in black was still sitting in the back, monitoring their every breath.
As the students began to file out of the room without a single one of their usual snide remarks or leering comments, you felt like you could finally release the air you'd been holding in your lungs.
You packed your notes into your briefcase with clumsy hands. You glanced sideways at the back row, but the seat was already empty. Na Hwa-jin had left as silently as he had entered, leaving you with a strange mixture of relief and intense internal agitation.
You needed to breathe. You needed to get out from between those four walls that still held the suffocating tension of the morning.
You walked quickly through the building's hallways, avoiding eye contact with other teachers or administrators. You didn't want to give explanations; you didn't want to talk about the ERPB, the audit, or anything else. You hurried up the service stairs leading to the school roof… a place that was usually locked, but whose padlock you had learned to bypass weeks ago to find a sanctuary. As you pushed open the heavy metal door, a gust of fresh air greeted you.
You walked over to the concrete ledge overlooking the back courtyard. Your fingers dug through your bag until they found a crumpled pack and a lighter. You pulled out a cigarette, slipped it between your lips and sparked the flame, shielding it with your palm. You took a deep drag, closing your eyes as the hot smoke flooded your lungs, slightly numbing the tight knot in your throat. Leaning against the concrete, you exhaled the gray smoke into the sunny sky, trying to convince yourself that everything that just happened downstairs was actually real.
"That habit is going to ruin your health, teacher" a smooth voice called out from your left, shattering the quiet.
You jumped so hard you nearly dropped your cigarette over the edge. You whipped your head around, your heart taking another violent leap in your chest. Na Hwa-jin was standing there, leaning his back against the wall of the rooftop exit with his hands tucked into his trouser pockets.
He was looking at you with an exasperating calmness. His handsome face was still wearing that gentle, harmless smile. It was the same professional mask he had worn downstairs, but now that you were alone, his eyes locked onto you with an intensity that made you feel completely exposed.
"Mr. Na..." your voice came out small, but you immediately straightened up, suddenly feeling intimidated by his sheer size. "I... I didn't know you were up here."
"I was securing the perimeter" he said, stepping away from the wall. He walked over to the ledge and positioned himself right next to you, less than three feet away. "But I saw how fast you were heading up here. I guess you still look for high places when you feel cornered… just like back in high school, T/N."
The comment hit you right in the center of your memories, leaving a bittersweet taste in your mouth. So he had recognized you after all. You looked down at the cigarette between your fingers before taking another drag, drawing courage from the nicotine.
"It's been a lot of years, Hwa-jin" you said, trying to strike a casual tone. "We aren't those high school kids anymore. You've definitely changed a lot. When you walked into the room… I honestly couldn't believe it. I thought you hadn't recognized me."
Hwa-jin let out a short laugh, but the gesture didn't reach his eyes. He leaned against the concrete ledge, mimicking your posture, though his head remained turned toward you in profile. He scanned every detail of your face, from the paleness of your skin to the slight tremor of your lips.
Inside, Na Hwa-jin’s brain was firing at a million miles an hour, analyzing every millimeter of your presence.
Not recognize you? How stupid he thought, his pupils dilating imperceptibly as he watched you wrap your arms around yourself to shield against the wind. A hundred years could pass, you could change your name, your hair, your entire life and I would still know exactly who you are just by the rhythm of your footsteps. I know how you breathe when you're scared. I know how you clench your jaw when you're trying not to cry.
Seeing you standing there, the cigarette trembling between your fingers and that broken look trying to hide the damage from the harassment, sent a dark, possessive jolt straight down his spine.
Hwa-jin experienced a twisted, addictive rush of pleasure at just how small you looked in his presence. You were no longer the unreachable girl walking hand-in-hand with someone else through the hallways… you were a woman backed into a corner by the world, a victim desperately in need of a savior and he was more than willing to play that part until you had no choice but to take shelter in his arms.
However, he shelved those fantasies for the moment and kept his expression serious, masking the obsession that threatened to spill over.
"I recognized you the exact second I opened that door" he confessed, watching the gray smoke you exhaled. "But I had to follow protocol. Besides… I wanted to see how you were handling the situation. Though, from what I witnessed downstairs, it looks like you aren't handling it at all."
You looked down, feeling shame warm your face all over again. The reminder of your own weakness stung, especially coming from him… from your former best friend.
"It's not that easy, Hwa-jin" you muttered, fixing your eyes on the miniature cars in the parking lot. "Those kids… they have power. Their families control the school board. If I try to defend myself or file a formal complaint, the principal turns his back on me and threatens to fire me. I don't have a choice. I have to keep my mouth shut and keep working if I want to put food on the table."
Hwa-jin fell silent for a few seconds that stretched on like an eternity. The placid smile vanished from his lips for the first time, replaced by a cold, hard line. His eyes darkened, fixed on the way your shoulders slumped under the crushing weight of the daily humiliation.
"Why didn't you report the harassment to the Ministry authorities?" he asked and this time his tone carried a sharp edge of coldness that made you shiver. "Why didn't you tell Ha-joon? He's your boyfriend… he's supposed to protect you from any bastard who tries to lay a hand on you."
Your ex's name hovered between you like a heavy, toxic ghost. You tapped the ash off your cigarette, feeling your heart squeeze painfully in your chest… not out of love, but from the raw trauma that idiot had left behind. You took one last, bitter drag before stubbing the butt out against the concrete of the ledge.
"Ha-joon isn't going to protect anyone, Hwa-jin" you said, finally letting out the frustration and exhaustion built up over months. "My relationship with him… it was complete torture. I lived through hell by his side. I left him a few months ago and I swear it's the best thing I could have ever done, even if he left me completely broke."
Hwa-jin didn't move, but from his posture, you knew you had his undivided attention, as if he were drinking in every single word.
"Torture?" he repeated.
"Yes" you confessed, wrapping your arms tightly around yourself, finally unburdening your soul to the only person who, deep down, still felt safe. "He made me feel completely worthless all the time. He controlled me, screamed at me, manipulated me until I doubted my own sanity. Honestly… I think the reason my self-esteem is so shot and why it's so hard for me to stand up to those students is because of how Ha-joon treated me every single day. He left me hollow… he convinced me that I deserved to be stepped on."
Inside Hwa-jin, a symphony of dark, twisted emotions swelled into a perfect, triumphant climax.
Single… she’s single.
He had to fight every muscle in his face to suppress the wicked smirk that wanted to break through. A visceral contempt for Ha-joon flooded his veins; the mere thought that that pathetic excuse for a man had been privileged enough to have you by his side only to mistreat you triggered a brutal urge to track him down and teach him a lesson he wouldn't walk away from.
But at the exact same time, he felt a wave of profound gratitude toward fate.
Ha-joon had broken you and cast you aside, completely clearing the path. Now you were alone, entirely untethered. Right back at the exact same starting point as high school, but with one crucial difference: this time, you had absolutely no one else to turn to.
He left you in pieces, my love… but I am going to be the only one who gathers them up, Hwa-jin thought, his eyes gleaming with unadulterated obsession. I am going to make you forget his name and the name of anyone else who ever hurt you. You're about to see what a real man is capable of doing to keep you safe.
He cleared his throat softly, reclaiming his mask of serenity in a fraction of a second and exhaled a sigh meant to mimic sympathy.
"I'm so sorry to hear that" Hwa-jin said, his voice taking on an strangely comforting undertone. "That asshole never knew what he had in his hands. But you don't have to worry about him anymore and you certainly don't have to worry about those punks downstairs."
You looked up, meeting his gaze. The way he was watching you was so intense that it stole your breath away for a second, but you failed to read the danger hiding in his eyes. You only saw the friend from your past who seemed to be throwing you a lifeline.
"Hwa-jin… it really hurt when we stopped talking, didn't it?" you dared to ask, finally touching the wound that had remained open in your memory. "For years, it killed me to think our friendship was destroyed just because I rejected you. You were my best friend in the world. I missed you so much and I spent years thinking you hated me."
Hwa-jin pulled a hand out of his pocket and stepped closer to you. His long fingers gently brushed against a stray lock of hair that the wind had whipped across your face, tucking it behind your ear with a tenderness that sent shivers down your skin. His touch was warm and the proximity of his massive frame made you feel incredibly small… but for the first time in months, entirely safe.
"I could never hate you" he whispered, his placid smile returning. "The ERPB is going to be stationed at this school for several weeks to handle this 'problem' at its root. I suggest you leave everything in my hands, teacher."
He pulled his hand back gently from your face and turned on his heel, walking toward the rooftop's metal door. Before opening it, he paused and looked back over his shoulder, those cold eyes promising a storm.
"Head back to class whenever you're ready" he said. "No one is ever going to touch you in that room again. I guarantee it."
The door clicked shut behind him, leaving you standing against the ledge, touching the spot where his fingers had left a lingering trail of heat. The smoke from your cigarette had completely vanished, but Hwa-jin’s presence remained branded onto your skin, marking the beginning of a game you no longer had any way of escaping.
(...)
The official deployment of the Teachers' Rights Protection Agency audit changed the entire dynamic of the school overnight.
The formal memorandum hit the main office first thing the next morning, establishing that inspector Na Hwa-jin would remain on-site for fourteen days to monitor school climate and ensure strict compliance with codes of conduct regarding the faculty. For his operational convenience, he was assigned a desk in the furthest corner of the staff room… a corner that rapidly became a high-voltage zone of tension for anyone who dared look his way.
You exchanged phone numbers with him on the second afternoon of his stay. The excuse was strictly bureaucratic: Hwa-jin handed you a business card stamped with the ERPB seal and requested you save his direct line to report any anomalies immediately, no matter how minor.
However, the late-night texts didn't take long to shatter that rigid administrative boundary. At first, they were brief check-ins where he asked if you had made it home safely or if the students had behaved themselves.
Soon, the frequency spiked.
In the quiet dark of your apartment, you found yourself staying up to reply to his questions about your current literary tastes, reminiscing over blurry memories of high school exams and venting about the exhaustion of the routine. Hwa-jin knew exactly what to say to make you feel heard and the hollow void Ha-joon had left in your self-worth began to fill with your old friend's meticulous attention.
The daily routine that wove itself between you during that first week took on a sweet, steady and strangely intimate rhythm.
Every morning, exactly twenty minutes before your literature class started, the classroom door would slide open with a soft click. Hwa-jin would walk in, dressed in his flawless dark suits, carrying a steaming cup of coffee he bought from the nearby café you always frequented after work. He didn't make grand declarations… he simply walked up to your desk, offered you that peaceful smile and placed the cup right next to your binders. The few students who arrived early to classroom 4-1 watched the scene in dead silence, completely cowed by the mere presence of the man who had broken Jung-hoon on day one.
The morning coffee became a sacred ritual, a quiet moment that allowed you to start your day with a comforting warmth in your chest.
By lunchtime, the dynamic naturally inverted. Aware that your paycheck barely covered your debts and that you often resorted to skipping meals, you had started packing your own lunch from home.
When the midday recess arrived and the rest of the faculty cleared out of the staff room to head to local restaurants, you were left entirely alone with him. You would open your containers on the table, shyly offering him a portion of your home-cooked food. Hwa-jin accepted the gesture with a quiet joy that touched your heart. He would sit across from you, push his files aside and eat peacefully, keeping his eyes locked onto your face, listening intently to your complaints about students or your questions about lesson plans.
When the final bell of the afternoon rang and the students evacuated the building like a noisy tidal wave, Hwa-jin would wait for you patiently by the school's main exit. He didn't care if you had to stay late grading exams or meeting with the interim board… he remained standing near the stone steps, hands tucked into the pockets of his black overcoat, watching the perimeter.
The walk back to your apartment building became the space where your walls truly began to crumble. He walked by your side, tailoring his long strides to match your slower pace, always making sure to position himself on the street side to shield you from traffic.
There was no formal label between you. The relationship floated in an ambiguous limbo; you weren't mere acquaintances who exchanged pleasantries out of obligation, but neither of you dared to utter the word "friends" or seek a stricter definition.
The air separating your bodies during those evening walks crackled with a very different kind of tension than the classroom, it was a latent magnetism that both of you recognized but preferred to keep in a respectful silence. You felt deeply cared for by him and you were starting to feel like yourself again for the first time in months.
Hwa-jin seemed to derive a massive, profound satisfaction from treating you with the delicacy and respect he believed you deserved. Yet beneath that flawless facade of chivalry and professional courtesy, Na Hwa-jin’s mind operated on an infinitely darker, more possessive and calculating plane.
Every time he watched you wrap your small hands around the coffee cup, or noticed how your posture completely relaxed the moment you heard his voice on the walk home, a cold, addictive rush of pleasure cut straight down his spine. In the privacy of his own mind, Hwa-jin savored every tiny bit of progress as a personal, absolute triumph.
That’s it, my love, he thought, his gaze entirely fixed on the way the wind tangled through your hair. Depend on me. Let me be the first thing you need when you wake up and the last thing on your mind before you close your eyes. You’re coming right back to the place you never should have left: by my side.
Hwa-jin knew your self-esteem was shattered and, far from being bothered by it, he considered it his greatest ally. He knew the psychological damage Ha-joon had inflicted on you left you completely blind to the red flags in his own behavior… you were so starved for validation that his toxic obsession, masked as love, felt like the purest form of affection. Because of that, he forced himself to maintain strict self-control, meticulously measuring the brush of his hands whenever he handed you paperwork, or carefully modulating his voice to sound comforting and safe. He wasn't going to rush... the game required you to feel completely free before he finally made you his.
Thanks to the inspector's constant presence, the atmosphere in classroom 4-1 underwent a radical transformation during the second week. The students no longer dared to whisper the lewd comments or leave the obscene notes that used to tear your emotional stability to pieces. The sheer terror inspired by the imposing figure in black, who often sat in the very back row, forced a military-like discipline onto the group.
Jung-hoon sat with his back perfectly straight at his desk, doing nothing more than nodding along to your explanations while keeping his eyes glued to his textbooks. His usual lackeys mirrored his attitude, terrified that a single wrong look would trigger the corporate punishment the inspector had threatened them with on day one.
This newfound peace allowed you to focus on teaching in a way you hadn't been able to in months. Your lectures on twentieth-century literature flowed without disruption and the students showed a drastic improvement in their performance. Seeing the high grades and the orderly classroom brought back a piece of the professional pride you thought you'd lost forever.
You felt useful, respected in your own classroom and every time you turned toward the whiteboard, the absolute certainty of having Hwa-jin’s eyes guarding your back gave you an unshakeable sense of security.
However, Na Hwa-jin was not exclusive to your class. As the only high-ranking ERPB inspector sent to the school, his official responsibilities demanded he handle other areas. He had to oversee administrative audits on the ground floor, coordinate reports with the main office and evaluate the underclassmen groups where institutional misconduct had also been flagged.
Because of this, there were periods during the second week when his seat at the back of classroom 4-1 remained empty. Even though the students' discipline held up out of the sheer fear he had planted, his physical absence left you with a strange sense of vulnerability… a subtle ache in your chest that made you count down the minutes until the final bell rang so you could look for him in the staff room.
The two-week routine seemed to be moving toward a peaceful resolution, a transition where the harassment was finally behind you and your life was taking a stable path, all thanks to Hwa-jin. You had grown accustomed to the warmth of his morning coffees, the security of his long strides next to yours and the lunches shared in the teacher’s lounge. You were convinced that fate had finally taken pity on you, returning your childhood friend as the man who could heal all your wounds.
You had absolutely no idea that this apparent calm was merely the eye of the storm, an artificial silence where your students' festering resentment was about to collide.
(...)
The sky on Friday of the second week threatened to unleash a massive storm, a clear omen that the bubble of peace you had been living in wouldn't last much longer. For the past few days, you had been walking on clouds. You had settled into the cozy routine of Hwa-jin’s morning coffees, shared lunches and late-night chats at the entrance of your building. Your self-esteem was beginning to bloom again. You felt safe, almost untouchable.
But the reality in classroom 4-1 hadn't vanished... it had only retreated beneath the surface, pooling into pure resentment.
The last period before lunch ended with the exact same order Hwa-jin had enforced. You packed your things calmly, neatly stacking the literature exams the students had handed in minutes prior. The students filed out, a few throwing sneaky glances your way, but none daring to break the rule of silence. Once the room was completely empty, you sat behind your desk for a moment to alphabetize the papers.
That’s when you noticed it.
Right in the middle of the stack, tucked securely between two exams, was a small manila envelope. It didn't have a name written on it, but the mere fact that it was hidden there made your stomach drop. The memory of the obscene notes you used to find before the ERPB arrived rushed back like a cold sweat, instantly wiping away all the warmth you had built up over the last two weeks. With trembling hands, you slid open the envelope flap and pulled out the contents.
The first thing to fall onto the wooden desk was a piece of grid paper, torn from a notebook. As you unfolded it, your eyes scanned a detailed list of students names written by hand, with monetary figures next to each one. At the top, a single line dictated the purpose of the game: "Who is the Lit teacher sleeping with?"
The options were split into two clear columns: one read the inspector Na Hwa-jin and the other… with a significantly higher number of bets, read the art teacher, Mr. Cho.
Mr. Cho was a young, kind and mild-mannered man with whom you had coordinated an inter-school writing contest a month ago. Remembering the brief meetings you’d had with him in the library, the purely professional exchanges of opinions and the polite smiles made you physically sick to your stomach. Your own students had taken your kindness and basic everyday interactions and twisted them into a vulgar game, a betting pool where your body and dignity were the grand prize.
Yet, the true horror awaited at the bottom of the envelope.
Reaching inside again, you pulled out a couple of heavy, high-grade white cardstock sheets… the exact kind used only in technical drawing and studio art classes. When you turned them over, the breath was completely knocked out of you and the air seemed to vanish from the room. They were dark charcoal illustrations, rendered with a disturbing level of anatomical detail and an impeccable technique that showed advanced artistic talent.
The first illustration showed you, easily recognizable by your hair and the clothes you usually wore, on your knees on the staff room floor. Your skirt was pulled up, your expression completely unraveled by pleasure and submission, while the unmistakable figure of Na Hwa-jin held you by the hair from behind, claiming you savagely. The drawing perfectly captured the inspector's lethal aura, but warped it into a pornographic fantasy that made you feel utterly violated and exposed.
With your hands shaking uncontrollably, you flipped to the second sheet. The linework was identical, but the setting and the partner had changed. This time, the scene took place on the library desk. You were laid out, legs spread wide and over you was Mr. Cho, drawn in an explicit pose, stripping off your clothes while you clung to his shoulders. The raw cruelty of the strokes, the explicit positions and the humiliation of seeing your face drawn in those scenarios triggered a violent wave of nausea.
You bolted upright, dropping the sheets onto the desk as if they were burning hot. Tears of helplessness and pure disgust blurred your vision. The progress of the last two weeks and the confidence you had slowly begun to rebuild... everything crumbled in a single second. You were a victim all over again, the target of a group of juvenile delinquents who didn't see you as an authority figure, but as a piece of meat.
You shoved the drawings and the betting pool back into the envelope clumsily, wrinkling the edges in your panic. You ran out of the classroom, your footsteps echoing loudly down the hallway, which was empty for lunch. You didn't think about the consequences, you didn't think about protocol. Your mind was only searching for a sanctuary and the only real safe haven you knew in that building was the man who sat in the corner of the staff room.
When you pushed open the lounge door, you were flooded with relief to see that most of the faculty had already left for lunch. Na Hwa-jin was there, sitting behind his temporary desk, looking over some files. Hearing the door slam and noticing your ragged breathing, he looked up immediately. His placid expression tightened into a line of subtle concern the second he saw your bloodshot eyes and your trembling hands.
"T/N" he said, completely dropping his formal rigidity as he stood up. "What happened?"
You couldn't form the words. You rushed over to his desk and, with a swift movement, dropped the manila envelope right in front of him.
"It was... it was tucked inside the exams" you managed to choke out, tears threatening to spill over. "They did it. Classroom 4-1."
Hwa-jin stared at you intensely for a split second before shifting his attention to the envelope. He extended his long fingers and picked up the paper with a calmness that directly contrasted your panic. He pulled the contents out slowly. First, he unfolded the betting list. His eyes scanned the names of the students, the prompt at the top and the two columns of votes. His eyebrows twitched imperceptibly, but his face remained a stone mask.
Then, he pulled out the cardstock drawings.
In that exact second, the entire atmosphere of the staff room shifted completely. The air grew heavy, almost suffocating. You wrapped your arms tightly around yourself, turning your gaze toward the window because you couldn't bear the shame of him seeing those illustrations. You didn't know what to expect, but you could have never predicted the absolute chaos that erupted inside the inspector at that moment.
Looking at the first illustration… the one where he was taking you on the lounge floor, Na Hwa-jin’s pupils dilated imperceptibly. A sharp electric jolt shot straight down his spine. His obsessive mind devoured the image with terrifying intensity. The students had perfectly rendered the exact fantasy he had been feeding his own brain since the hallways of high school. Seeing you depicted like that, completely unraveled and claimed by him, sent a rush of arousal through him so intense you would have noticed it in his trousers if you weren't looking away. To him, the drawing wasn't an insult to you; it felt like a prophecy of what was to come.
However, the dark delight was instantly extinguished when he flipped to the second sheet.
Seeing the illustration of Mr. Cho over you made Hwa-jin’s mind violently short-circuit. A wave of pure, unadulterated fury and psychotic jealousy flooded his veins like venom. The mere thought that another man… a pathetic, insignificant teacher at this school had been paired with you woke up the apex predator inside him.
Who the hell was Mr. Cho to you? Why did your students think he could ever have a chance with you?
He could not tolerate those punks associating your name with anyone but him. The jealousy clouded his vision, his fingers gripping the cardstock so tightly that the thick paper groaned under the pressure. A brutal urge to destroy, to completely wipe off the map anyone who dared lay a hand on you or even imagine it… took absolute hold of him.
He took exactly two seconds to retrieve his mask. He cleared his throat softly, slid the drawings back into the envelope with a terrifying calmness and looked at you as you turned back around. His gentle smile was entirely gone... instead, his eyes were two blocks of ice promising a bloodbath.
"Stay here, T/N" he told you, his voice unusually soft as he slipped the envelope into the inner pocket of his black suit jacket. "Go to the restroom, wash your face and rest in this office. I am going to handle this once and for all."
"Hwa-jin..." you murmured, frightened by the raw intensity in his eyes. "What are you going to do?"
"My job" he replied, giving you one last polite nod before turning on his heel and walking out of the lounge.
Once in the hallway, Hwa-jin’s brain went into overdrive. He didn't need to interrogate the entire class. He cross-referenced the data in his head in a single second: the professional linework, the use of high-quality charcoal and the grades from the art department. The author of the envelope was none other than Jung-hoon, who aside from being the ringleader of the class, possessed the highest marks in technical drawing and studio art in the entire senior year. The punk wanted to reclaim his territory by humiliating you in the worst way possible.
Hwa-jin walked down to the courtyard just as lunch was wrapping up. He spotted Jung-hoon immediately, standing near the vending machines surrounded by his three usual lackeys, laughing arrogantly. The inspector approached from behind and, before the boy could even react, Hwa-jin’s hand clamped down around the back of Jung-hoon’s neck with a vice grip of pure steel.
"Walk" he hissed into his ear, applying a painful pressure to his vertebrae that forced the boy to choke back a scream of agony.
"Hey! What the hell? Let go of me!" Jung-hoon tried to protest.
His friends froze solid, completely paralyzed by the murderous look on the inspector's face. Not a single one dared step forward.
Hwa-jin ignored the boy's complaints entirely, dragging him down the side hallway straight toward the school’s old gymnasium. The concrete structure had been closed for renovations for months… a dusty, neglected place far from the main building and entirely isolated from everyday noise. Pushing open the heavy wooden doors, the inspector shoved Jung-hoon toward the center of the basketball court and locked the door behind them.
"What do you think you're doing?!" Jung-hoon shouted. "I told you, my dad is the school board president! If you touch me, you’ll be out on the street by tomorrow morning!"
Hwa-jin didn't answer with words. He took off his black suit jacket, folded it meticulously and placed it on one of the wooden benches on the sidelines. Then, he began to unbutton the cuffs of his black shirt, rolling the sleeves up past his forearms.
"Your dad isn't here, kid" Hwa-jin said, turning toward him with a cold, predatory smile that made the boy’s skin crawl. "In this gym, it’s just you and me."
Before Jung-hoon could even take a step back, Hwa-jin closed the distance with terrifying speed. His right fist slammed straight into the boy's stomach with a heavy, sickening thud. The air exploded from the kid's lungs in a strangled groan and he collapsed to his knees, clutching his abdomen as the blinding pain took over.
Hwa-jin didn't give him a single second to recover. He grabbed him by the collar of his school uniform, hoisted him completely off the floor and slammed him hard against one of the gym’s concrete pillars. He pulled the envelope from his jacket pocket and slapped it hard against the boy's face.
"You think it's funny drawing this?" Hwa-jin asked, his voice dripping with a deep, dark fury that went far beyond basic school discipline. "Who gave you the right to even imagine her in that position?"
Jung-hoon’s lip was split, his stomach was burning and he could barely process the inspector's words. The sheer terror had completely paralyzed him... the aura radiating off Hwa-jin wasn't that of an educator enforcing order, but a psychopath executing a highly personal vendetta.
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" the boy sobbed, his arrogance completely shattered. "I just... I just wanted to mess with her... I didn't think…"
"That’s your mistake. You don't think" Hwa-jin interrupted and his left fist cracked hard against the student’s jaw, sending him crashing to the floor.
Hwa-jin stood over him, delivering a brutal kick to his ribs that left Jung-hoon writhing like a worm. The psychotic jealousy triggered by the drawing of Mr. Cho guided every single one of the inspector's blows, unloading years of accumulated obsession straight onto the young boy's body. The sound of the impacts echoed through the old gym… a macabre, rhythmic beating that seemed to have no end.
Meanwhile, back in the staff room, anxiety wouldn't leave you alone. After washing your face, Hwa-jin’s warning about "handling the problem" began to take on an alarming tone. You remembered the murderous look you’d seen in his eyes on day one and the way the students whispered about the ERPB’s extreme methods. A terrible gut feeling gripped your chest. You ran out of the lounge and searched for Jung-hoon’s lackeys in the courtyard. Seeing their pale faces and hearing them murmur about the "old gym" you knew exactly where you had to go.
You bolted down the dirt path connecting the two buildings and the second you pushed open the gym doors, the echo of a heavy blow and an agonizing groan confirmed your worst fears.
You ran onto the court and the sight froze your blood. Jung-hoon was a bloody mess on the floor, covering his head with his arms and weeping uncontrollably. Standing over him, Na Hwa-jin had his fist raised, ready to deliver another devastating blow. His shirt was unbuttoned, his hair was completely messed up and his expression held a look of pure, unhinged dementia you had never seen on him before.
"Hwa-jin, stop!" you screamed with everything you had. "Please, stop! Let him go!"
Hwa-jin’s fist stopped mere inches from the boy's face. Hearing your voice, something instantly clicked in his brain. The fog of pure rage and jealousy vanished in a split second, replaced by absolute clarity. He froze for a moment before slowly, deliberately lowering his arm.
He stood up smoothly, brushed off his shirt and turned toward you. In the blink of an eye, the mask of placid serenity returned to his face, decorated with that gentle smile that now sent a violent shiver down your spine. He glanced down at Jung-hoon, who was still shaking on the floor and then walked over to the bench to retrieve his black jacket.
"Student Jung-hoon has perfectly understood the lesson on respecting faculty authority" Hwa-jin said, sounding as if nothing out of the ordinary had just happened. "He won't be a disruption to you anymore, teacher. You may return to your classroom if you wish. Right, Jung-hoon?"
The boy nodded frantically, crawling toward the back exit of the gym like a beaten dog, fleeing for his life.
Hwa-jin slipped his black suit jacket back on, smoothed down the lapels with care and walked slowly toward where you stood, paralyzed by horror and confusion. He stopped just inches away from you, forcing you to look up to hold his gaze. His eyes no longer hid the profound darkness they carried within.
"Let’s head back to the classroom, teacher" he whispered with immense delicacy. "The school day isn't over yet."
He turned and walked out of the gym, leaving you alone in the vast emptiness of the space. The storm that had been threatening all day finally broke, the first heavy drops of rain slamming against the windows. The sound of the rain snapped you out of your trance and you rushed to follow him.
Hwa-jin walked right by your side through the hallways, while Jung-hoon marched a few paces ahead, head down, clumsily wiping the trail of blood from his lip. The second you entered the classroom, the students' chatter died instantly. The inspector didn't say a single word... he simply stood by the door and, with a single ice-cold look, ordered the boy back to his desk. The kid sat down in absolute silence, not even daring to look at his friends.
"Please, proceed with the class, teacher" Hwa-jin said with a polite nod, before retreating to the back of the room to watch from the corner, playing the part of the ruthless inspector flawlessly.
The remaining forty minutes felt like an eternity.
Your hands wouldn't stop shaking as you feigned going over the exam material. You could feel the gaze of the entire class, but most of all, you felt Hwa-jin’s eyes pinned directly to your back. When the final bell rang, the students cleared out of the room at lightning speed, leaving you behind with the heavy memory of what had happened. You packed up your things slowly and by the time you walked out of the building, the storm had fully unleashed. True to routine, Hwa-jin was waiting for you at the school gates, walking beside you while holding an umbrella over your head, shielding you completely from the downpour.
When you reached the entrance of your apartment building, you turned around to say goodbye, but seeing the dampness on his broad shoulders and remembering the brutal lengths he had gone to for you, a wave of immense debt and gratitude tightened in your chest.
"Hwa-jin..." you said, pausing before pushing open the glass door. "It’s raining way too hard. If you want... you can come up. I could cook something to say thank you for today... for the favor you did for me."
The inspector stared at you intensely beneath the rim of his umbrella. His eyes flashed with a dark brilliance before that peaceful smile returned to his lips.
"I’d like that, T/N. Thank you" he replied in his usual casual tone.
You walked into the apartment together, the sound of the heavy rain outside creating an atmosphere of perfect, total isolation. You prepared a simple dinner while he helped you organize your school binders. Seeing Na Hwa-jin moving through your kitchen with such absolute confidence triggered a strange mix of unreality and profound relief inside you.
During the meal, the conversation flowed smoothly. You talked about lesson plans and school reforms, allowing you to finally release all the tight anxiety you'd been carrying. Hwa-jin listened intently, nodding at the exact right moments and keeping that gentle smile that completely chased away your fears.
However, halfway through dinner, Hwa-jin set his glass of water down gently on the table and locked his eyes onto you, adopting a tone that was casual yet laced with concern.
"By the way..." he began, tilting his head subtly. "I was looking over the contents of the betting pool in that envelope. They mentioned the art teacher, Mr. Cho, quite a bit. It worried me a little. Has he shown any inappropriate behavior toward you, or is it just an absurd idea the students cooked up?"
On the inside, Hwa-jin’s stomach was twisting with pure, toxic jealousy. He could not get the drawing of you with another man out of his head. Beneath the table, his fingers clenched hard into his palm. He had to admit it... he wasn't just jealous; he was terrified that you might have already found the safe haven in another man's arms that he was so desperately waiting to provide.
"No, not at all" you replied immediately, shaking your head. "Mr. Cho is incredibly sweet. We only organized an inter-school literature contest last month in the library. He has never, ever disrespected me, I swear. The kids just used his name to build their sick little game."
Hearing your answer, the murderous tension in Hwa-jin’s shoulders evaporated entirely and he felt like he could finally breathe easy.
"I’m incredibly relieved to hear that" Hwa-jin said aloud, offering you an immensely warm, comforting smile. "For a second, I thought he might be another predator. You're already dealing with so much."
Once dinner was finished, you moved to the living room. You sat on the sofa and he took a seat a respectful distance away, placing the manila envelope on the coffee table. Hwa-jin let out a soft sigh, running a hand through his dark hair, looking visibly preoccupied with your well-being.
"I know all of this has been entirely overwhelming for you" he blurted out suddenly, touching upon the harassment again. "It frustrates me to see you forced into these situations. But I want you to know the report for the ERPB is ready and you are completely safe. No one, absolutely no one, is ever going to disrespect you in that school again. I am going to see to that personally."
You looked at him, feeling how the warmth of the room, the raging storm outside and his constant, unwavering support finally made every single one of your walls crumble down to the foundation. You were so tired of the loneliness, the constant fear and the shattered self-esteem Ha-joon had left you with as an inheritance. You didn't want professional boundaries with Hwa-jin anymore. You wanted the friend from your past and the savior of your present.
"Thank you for taking care of me so much, Hwa-jin" you said softly, breaking the physical distance between you by sliding across the sofa to sit right next to him. You reached out and placed your hand firmly over his. "Really... I don't know what I would have done today without you. You make me feel so safe."
Hwa-jin’s eyes widened slightly at your touch. Feeling the warmth of your palm against his, his inspector mask cracked and his pupils dilated instantly. He slowly turned his hand over, intertwining his long fingers with yours in a tight, unyielding grip.
"It’s my priority" he whispered. "Your well-being is absolutely everything to me."
You leaned closer to him, holding his gaze as you squeezed his hand. The sheer relief of having him near clouded your judgment entirely, preventing you from seeing the dark obsession gleaming in his eyes. To you, he was the perfect port in the middle of a storm.
"Stay with me, Hwa-jin" you pleaded. "I don't just mean for tonight... or for the two weeks of the audit. Stay in my life. I don't want to lose you again. I need you with me."
Inside Na Hwa-jin, the entire universe seemed to align perfectly in his favor.
She needs me. She’s begging me to stay with her.
Your words echoed in his mind like celestial music. The girl who had rejected him in high school, the woman who had chosen to belong to another man, was now handing him the keys to her life completely of her own free will. The lingering hatred toward your ex, the bitter resentment for the lost years... everything evaporated, leaving behind a single, possessive truth: you were finally his.
Hwa-jin held his breath, exerting a superhuman amount of self-control to avoid scaring you away with the sheer scale of his ecstasy. He brought his free hand up to your face, cradling your cheek with immense gentleness, his eyes scanning your features like a starving man devouring a treasure.
"Are you sure about what you're asking me?" he whispered, giving you one last, false chance to back out. "If you let me into your life... there will be absolutely no way for me to ever walk away from you."
You nodded with a small smile, completely closing the remaining distance between you.
Hwa-jin sealed the promise with a slow, deep kiss, the sensation of having him so close sending goosebumps down your skin. His lips moved against yours, drinking in your sighs and washing away the last traces of your past anguish. To you, the kiss felt like coming home… a protective embrace that made you feel deeply valued for the first time in years.
To him, that kiss was the definitive claim that you were finally his property. As his large arms wrapped around you to pull you flush against his chest, Hwa-jin tasted your complete submission with a dark, twisted pleasure. You clung to his broad shoulders and buried yourself in his scent, completely oblivious to the wicked, triumphant smile drawing itself inside his mind.
(...)
Hours later, the storm outside had settled into a quiet lull. You were resting comfortably against Hwa-jin’s chest, listening to the steady, rhythmic beat of his heart while he held you securely with one arm, gently stroking your hair with a tenderness you hadn't been given in a lifetime.
"I'm sorry if I was ever too strict at school" he murmured softly near your ear. "I was just terrified of not getting there in time to protect you."
You smiled against his skin, pressing a soft kiss to his chest.
"It’s over now, don't worry" you replied sweetly. "All that matters is that we're here together."
Hwa-jin kissed your forehead, closing his eyes with a profound sense of relief and absolute happiness. He knew that from this night on, whatever the future held, you would face it together.
can i req na hwajin with fem reader where na hwajin is the husband , caming back from his duty , and yearning for fem reader attention and all . Make a fluff genre, especially with Na Hwajin being all over the reader hehe
Yess
Thats a cute request. I will happily write it :) give me some time to post it.
