#sungjinwooxreader

Too Late for Regret – Part 5:

POV: Sung Jinwoo

---

You turned your back on me.

Your footsteps echoed in the broken cathedral, fading fast.

And for a single second—just one—I froze.

Because the version of you that used to smile at me? Laugh quietly when I was awkward? Patch me up after I’d bled too much?

She was gone.

I killed her.

But I wasn’t going to lose what was left.

Not without a fight.

---

“Y/N—wait,” I said, but you didn’t stop.

You didn’t even flinch.

I moved.

Faster than I’ve moved in months.

A blur of shadow as I caught up, stepping in front of you with one hand raised—not to block you, not to force you, just... to make you see me.

You looked up at me, cold and unmoved. The person I used to know would’ve softened.

But your eyes?

They were steel.

> “Move.”

Two letters. Sharper than any dagger.

> “I can’t,” I said, voice quiet. “Not until you hear me.”

You didn’t answer, just tried to step around me.

I moved again—gentle, but firm. Shadows curling around me like instinct, but I kept them close. I wasn’t here to threaten. I was here to stay.

> “You don’t owe me a thing,” I said. “I know that. I know I chose wrong. That I stayed silent when I should’ve fought for you.”

You didn’t speak.

But I saw your fingers twitch.

Somewhere in you, I hoped—prayed—you were listening.

> “But I remember every second you stood beside me. I remember the way you looked at me when I didn’t believe in myself. And I remember the second I saw that look fade.”

You shifted your gaze slightly.

> “I thought I was protecting you by letting you go. But all I did was destroy the only person who truly loved me for who I was.”

And then, softly—just loud enough for only you to hear—

> “I’m not asking you to forgive me. I’m asking you to let me try.”

Silence.

A gust of wind stirred dust through the ruin. My heart pounded louder than any gate I’d ever faced.

You stared at me—no softness, no warmth. Just exhaustion. Years of pain etched into your eyes.

And then you walked around me.

Didn’t look back.

Didn’t speak.

But you didn’t vanish.

You let me follow.

And I will.

Every step.

Every mile.

Every shard of your broken heart—

Until you decide if I'm worth letting in again.

Too Late for Regret – Part 2

Pairing: Sung Jinwoo x Reader (Angst, Desperation, Regret)

---

> “If you ever feel a chill in your shadow, Jinwoo… that’s just me finally letting go.”

The letter slipped from his hand.

It hit the floor soundlessly, but the weight of its words echoed louder than any battlefield roar.

His legs gave out, knees hitting the dusty floor of your apartment. The picture frame on the table—cracked, broken. The one of you and him from so long ago. You’d smiled like you didn’t know heartbreak was coming.

He thought he had time. Thought you’d always be there, even if it hurt.

But this?

This was final.

---

“She’s gone?” Jinah whispered when he called. “Wait—what do you mean gone?”

He didn’t answer. Couldn’t.

He’d searched through everything—your apartment, your records, even your old dungeon logs. But your trail ended abruptly. Like you’d cut yourself from the world completely.

And maybe you had.

---

The next day, the search began.

At first, it was just his shadows. Quiet sweeps through the city. Routine.

But routine became obsession.

Jinwoo pulled every favor. Questioned every Guild Master. Called in debts from nations. Sent Beru and Igris through every known portal outside Korea. They didn’t rest.

Neither did he.

Sometimes there were rumors—an anonymous hunter soloing B-Rank dungeons without a license. A figure in black armor walking out of a gate soaked in blood, not speaking a word. Some even said this hunter vanished into the shadows after clearing the field.

Jinwoo chased every one.

Only to find silence waiting on the other side.

---

He sat alone one night, hands bloodied from tearing through yet another false lead. The wind blew cold through the broken windows of an abandoned hideout where you might’ve once passed through.

He stared at the wall and whispered your name.

Nothing answered.

Not even an echo.

And that’s when it hit him:

You hadn’t just run away.

You’d erased yourself.

From the world.

From him.

---

“She left because of me,” he said aloud one night, knuckles white.

Beru knelt beside him, quiet.

“Then we must find her, my king.”

But even his most loyal shadow looked uncertain.

Because some people don’t want to be found.

And worse—some people can’t be saved when they no longer want to be.

---

Still, he searched.

Not because he believed you’d forgive him.

But because he needed to see for himself:

What had become of the girl he shattered.

And whether there was anything left of her to bring home.

Too Late for Regret – Part 3

POV: Reader (You)

Theme: Hiding, healing, hardening. You became unreachable.

---

You didn't cry when you left.

You thought you might. Thought it would hit in waves. But instead, it was silent.

Clean.

Cold.

Like you’d already mourned everything before your feet even crossed the threshold.

You left the letter on the table, folded once. No dramatic goodbye. No desperate pleas. Just the truth he never asked for.

And then, you vanished.

---

The first few nights, you barely slept.

Every shadow made you wonder if it was him.

Every gust of wind felt like a presence brushing past.

You hated it.

You hated how your heart still jumped at the thought of his voice.

You hated how even after everything, part of you wanted him to come.

But he didn’t.

Not for days.

Not for weeks.

So you stopped waiting.

---

You cut off your number. Deleted your social media. Blocked everyone who knew your name.

You even moved cities.

Then countries.

No one would find you—not unless you wanted them to.

You took contracts under false names, hunted dungeons no one else dared touch. Your hands grew calloused. Your magic grew colder.

You trained until your body ached, until your memories dulled, until he stopped showing up in your dreams.

And when the rumors started—when people whispered of a Monarch tearing through cities like he was chasing ghosts—you didn't flinch.

You just smiled.

A cruel, bitter smile that you’d never worn before.

So he finally noticed I’m gone.

---

You heard the way his name came up.

They said he was quiet.

Restless.

Eyes always searching the crowd.

They said he looked tired, thinner. Like he’d forgotten how to be a person.

Like he was losing.

You wondered if that made you heartless—for feeling nothing when you heard it.

Because you didn’t miss him.

You missed who he could’ve been.

You missed the version of him that chose you.

But that person never existed.

So you let him chase shadows.

You let him unravel.

Because you weren’t the girl he lost.

You were someone else now.

And he?

He was just too late.

✨Hope you like it✨

_______. ._______

Bound by Shadows

Jinwoo wasn’t the type to believe in fate. Destiny was just an excuse for weak men to justify their failures. He had spent years clawing his way to the top, turning his own death sentence into power, and he refused to let anything or anyone distract him from that.

And yet, the first time he saw you, something shifted.

It was supposed to be an ordinary evening. He had just finished eliminating a gate’s remaining threats, his shadows slithering back into place as he stepped into the quiet city streets. The weight of his responsibilities loomed over him, as always, yet for the first time in a long while, his mind went utterly blank.

Because there you were.

You weren’t extraordinary. There was no overwhelming presence, no aura that demanded attention. If anything, you were unassuming, lost in your own world as you walked past. But that was what made Jinwoo stop.

The world was a cruel, dangerous place, and yet you moved through it like you had never known fear. How? How had you managed to exist so quietly, so untouched by the darkness he had come to know so well?

His shadows stirred beneath him, curious, waiting.

He told himself he would forget you by the time he turned the corner.

But he didn’t.

—

At first, it was nothing. Just coincidence. He convinced himself that running into you again was a matter of probability, nothing more. Seoul wasn’t small, but it wasn’t impossible for two people to frequent the same places.

Still, he couldn’t ignore the way his eyes always found you in a crowd. The way his feet seemed to move on their own, trailing a little too close when he should have been walking the other way.

The shadows made it worse. They were drawn to you, following at a distance even when Jinwoo willed them not to. It was unnatural, the way they curled in anticipation whenever you were near, the way they whispered in his ear that you were something important.

It wasn’t until he noticed the changes that he realized just how far he had already fallen.

The obstacles in your life began disappearing before you even noticed them. A late-night stalker who had been watching you for weeks? Gone before he could take a step too close. That café you always visited, where the barista had been a little too friendly for Jinwoo’s liking? Suddenly under new management. The landlord who was thinking of raising your rent? Changed his mind overnight.

Jinwoo made sure your world remained untouched. Unbothered. Safe.

He was careful, always careful, never letting you see the way he stood just out of your line of sight. The way he listened to your voice from the shadows, memorizing your habits, your routines, the way your lips curled when you were deep in thought.

He thought it would be enough.

It wasn’t.

—

The gifts started appearing before he could stop himself.

A necklace in your favorite color, left on your doorstep with no note. A coat just thick enough to keep you warm when winter rolled in, arriving at your door as if it had been a mistaken delivery. Things you never mentioned wanting, yet somehow needed.

And when he saw you wear them—saw the way you smiled as you ran your fingers over the delicate chain, saw the way you pulled the coat tighter around yourself on cold mornings—something in him settled.

As if this was always how it was supposed to be.

—

Jinwoo never meant to frighten you.

He never thought you would notice, never thought you would realize the way the world bent around you in ways it never did before.

But then you tried to leave.

He heard it in your voice before you even made the decision, the way your words wavered as you told a friend you were thinking of moving. A fresh start, you said. A new beginning.

The shadows lashed violently beneath his feet.

No.

You didn’t need a new beginning. You didn’t need to run from something that had never been a threat.

You were his.

And nothing—not distance, not fear, not even your own resistance—would ever change that.

So when you opened your eyes one morning and found yourself somewhere unfamiliar, wrapped in warmth that was not your own, Jinwoo was already there.

Waiting. Watching.

Smiling.

"Good morning," he murmured, his voice smooth, affectionate. Final.

Because now, finally, he didn’t have to watch from afar anymore.

---

Too Late for Regret – Part 4:

POV: Reader (You)

Theme: Confrontation. Detachment. No closure—just truth.

---

You knew he’d come eventually.

It was only a matter of time before his shadows found your trail, before his regret turned desperate enough to hunt you down in person.

So when he walked into the abandoned ruins where you’d been resting, you didn’t flinch.

Didn’t rise to meet him.

Didn’t brace yourself.

You just stood there, back turned, feeling the shift in the air as his presence filled the space like thunder waiting to crack.

He hesitated behind you, like your silence might swallow him whole.

“…Y/N.”

You turned.

Slowly. Calmly. Like the sound of your name no longer meant anything.

Because it didn’t.

Not from him.

Not anymore.

His eyes searched your face—guilt in every breath, shadows flickering at his heels like they couldn’t decide whether to pull him away or push him forward.

But your expression was unreadable.

Cold.

Dead.

“I finally found you,” he said, like that counted for something.

And then—still calm, still emotionless—you said it.

“How does it feel to be in another woman’s arms?”

His mouth opened slightly, stunned silent. Like he wasn’t expecting that to be the first wound you threw.

Good.

Let it bleed.

“Did she feel warm?” you asked, tilting your head just slightly, your voice flat. “Did she comfort you? Did she make you forget the person who was right in front of you?”

“I… I made a mistake.”

You smiled, but there was no joy in it.

“No, Jinwoo. You made a choice.”

He looked like he wanted to reach for you—but the space between you had grown into a chasm neither of you could cross anymore.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“You didn’t care if you did,” you said, cutting through the air. “You just hoped I’d stay. Silent. Waiting.”

You stepped forward, just enough for your shadow to brush his boots.

“But I left.”

The weight of it hit him harder than a blade.

“And I didn’t look back. Because people who choose others while I’m still standing beside them—don’t deserve to see my back.”

He took a shaky breath. “I’ve been searching for you ever since.”

“And what would you have done if I was still broken when you found me? Offered guilt instead of love?”

That shut him up.

You let the silence do the rest.

Then, finally, you turned from him again—slow, final.

“You lost me the moment you chose her.”

And this time…

You meant it.

✨A lil bit of angst but fluff in the end✨

__________. .___________

Fractured Shadows

---

The apartment was eerily silent.

You stood near the window, arms crossed tightly over your chest, watching the city lights flicker in the distance. Behind you, Sung Jinwoo stood rigid, his expression unreadable—but you knew better.

You had always known better.

“What the hell is wrong with you lately?” you finally asked, voice barely above a whisper.

Jinwoo didn’t respond immediately. He merely exhaled through his nose, turning his gaze to the floor. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You clenched your fists. “Don’t do that. Don’t shut me out.”

Silence.

You took a step closer, your heart pounding. “You used to be different, Jinwoo. You used to care.”

His head snapped up, eyes flashing dangerously. “And what? You think I don’t care now?” His voice was low, sharp as a blade.

You swallowed. “You don’t act like you do. You’re colder. Ruthless. You don’t hesitate to kill anymore.”

A bitter laugh escaped him. “That’s what it takes to survive.”

Your breath hitched. “Since when did surviving mean losing yourself?”

The air between you crackled with tension. Jinwoo’s hands clenched at his sides, his jaw tightening as if he was holding back something—something vast, something terrible.

“You don’t understand,” he finally said.

“Then make me understand,” you pleaded.

And then, suddenly, it broke.

Jinwoo’s walls, his carefully controlled mask, shattered in an instant.

“You want to know what happened to me?” His voice cracked, raw with something you had never heard from him before. “You want to know why I’m like this?”

Your breath caught in your throat as his dark eyes bore into yours, filled with something far worse than anger.

Pain.

“I died,” he whispered. “I died in that dungeon.”

You froze.

Jinwoo let out a shaky breath, running a trembling hand through his hair. “I watched them all die first. The Hunters who went in with me. One by one. I saw their terror, their agony. And when it was my turn, I—I had to choose. Die or kill.” His voice wavered, his entire body shaking. “I killed, (Y/N). I had to. I didn’t even know if I’d make it out alive, but I couldn’t just—”

His breath hitched, his shoulders heaving. “I didn’t want to die.”

You stepped forward instinctively, reaching for him.

He flinched.

That broke you more than anything else.

“Jinwoo,” you whispered, voice thick with emotion.

“I keep telling myself it was the only way,” he continued, his voice hoarse, as if the words were cutting his throat on the way out. “That it was them or me. But sometimes, I still see their faces.” He let out a hollow laugh, but there were tears in his eyes now. “And the worst part? It got easier. Killing got easier.”

His chest rose and fell rapidly, his breath uneven. “So tell me, (Y/N), if I’m a monster now—” His voice broke completely. “—then when did it start? Was it when I left that dungeon? Or was it the moment I decided my life was worth more than theirs?”

You couldn’t take it anymore.

You surged forward, wrapping your arms around him, pulling him into a fierce embrace. Jinwoo stiffened, his entire body trembling against you.

“It’s okay,” you murmured against his shoulder. “You’re not a monster.”

His hands gripped your back like a lifeline. “I don’t know how to stop,” he admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know how to be who I was before.”

Tears pricked your eyes. “Then let me help you.”

For a long moment, Jinwoo just stood there, tense and unmoving. Then, slowly, his arms came around you, holding you as if he was afraid you’d disappear.

And in that moment, you realized something.

Jinwoo hadn’t just lost his innocence in that dungeon. He had lost his faith in humanity.

But maybe, just maybe, you could help him find it again.

Together.

---

The End.

@2021animeandwebtoons

---

POV: Reader (You)

---

He looks so hopeful.

So ruined.

But still hopeful.

That I might reach out. That my silence might thaw. That the pain I wear like armor might give way.

It doesn’t.

I look at him.

And I smile.

A soft, beautiful smile. The kind I used to give him in the mornings, back when his name tasted like forever.

His eyes flicker—just for a second.

Like he thinks that smile means salvation.

And maybe that’s the cruelest part.

---

I step closer. The snow crunches beneath my boots.

He doesn't move.

Not away.

Not toward me.

Just still. Waiting. Trusting. Foolish.

I tilt my head slightly, voice barely louder than a breath.

> “Then die, Jinwoo.”

He freezes.

> “Because I don’t have a use for you anymore.”

---

There it is.

The way his soul fractures across his face.

Slow. Sharp. Quiet.

His breath leaves him in a shudder. Not from the cold.

From me.

I keep going. Because if I stop now, I’ll fall apart.

> “You already killed the part of me that loved you.”

> “What’s left is just… aftermath.”

His hands curl slightly at his sides.

He says nothing.

Not at first.

And then—

> “If that’s what you need to say to survive,” he says hoarsely, “I’ll take it.”

---

Why does that hurt?

Why does it hurt?

I wrap my arms around myself, the wind biting against my skin, and I glare at him like it’s his fault I’m cold.

Like it wasn’t me who burned everything down just now.

> “I needed you,” I whisper. “And you weren’t there.”

> “Now I don’t need anyone.”

He nods, slow and broken.

> “But I still need you.”

---

The silence cracks again.

But this time, I’m the one who steps back.

I can’t look at him anymore.

Not because I hate him.

But because I might still love him.

And I hate that worse.

---

I turn around and keep walking.

And this time, he doesn’t follow right away.

Because this time, he understands:

I’m not running.

I’m leaving.

Let me know.

Too Late for Regret – Part 8: If You Knew What It Cost Me

POV: Reader (You)

___

He’s still there.

Still trailing behind, like a ghost tied to my shadow.

Always close enough to see me.

Never close enough to touch.

But tonight... I stop walking.

And I don’t know why.

Maybe I’m tired of running.

Maybe I just want to hurt him back.

He stands a few steps away, waiting like he always does.

His breath is uneven. His face unreadable.

I speak first—sharper than the wind.

“How does it feel,” I ask, “to be in another woman’s arms… knowing you’ll never be in mine again?”

The words tear out of me. I don’t even flinch.

But he does.

His jaw clenches. And then, slowly, he speaks.

“It felt… empty,” he says. “Even when I didn’t know why.”

I scoff. “Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not,” he says. “That’s why I’m here.”

He takes one step forward, eyes heavy, voice low.

“Because being with her… being anywhere without you—it never stopped feeling wrong.”

I laugh bitterly.

“You chose her, Jinwoo. You didn’t trip and fall into her arms. You stood at the fork and walked away from me without a word.”

“I know,” he says. “And I hate myself for it.”

His words hang in the air. I hate how honest they sound.

“I was scared,” he finally admits. “Of what I was becoming. Of dragging you into it.”

“Don’t give me that ‘for your own good’ excuse,” I bite.

“It wasn’t an excuse.” His voice cracks. “It was a mistake.”

He steps closer—but still doesn’t reach for me.

“I didn’t leave you for Cha Hae-In. I left because I thought I had to protect you from what I’d become.”

“Then why didn’t you come back?”

His silence is the loudest answer of all.

“You didn’t even try,” I whisper. “I waited. I broke in silence. And you were just… gone.”

“Because I thought you’d be better without me,” he says. “But all I did was take the choice away from you.”

His eyes glisten—but no tears fall.

Not yet.

“And now you think what?” I say. “That following me around like some tragic puppy will make it all okay?”

“No,” he breathes. “I just want you to know the truth before you decide if I deserve to stay.”

“You don’t,” I say flatly. “You don’t deserve any part of me.”

I see it. The flicker of pain behind his calm.

Good.

But still... he doesn’t walk away.

“I know,” he whispers. “But I’m staying anyway. Not because I deserve you—but because you deserved someone who never would’ve made you feel like this.”

“And if I can’t be that person… then I’ll carry the weight of what I did until I die.”

I stare at him.

This broken, haunted version of the man I once loved more than air.

He doesn’t move. Doesn’t beg.

Just stands there.

Letting the silence settle between us like ash after a fire.

And for the first time…

I wonder if maybe he's finally feeling what I felt every day he was gone.