#sungoon

Two months.

That’s how long it took for the world around them to begin breathing again.

Kija was very much alive.

Not just existing, not just enduring the pain of a rejected bond but alive. And that, in itself, was a miracle the girls never stopped celebrating.

There were days when they watched her laugh again, arms linked with Da-eun or playfully smacking Jiyoon’s shoulder as she teased her for swooning over Heeseung’s jawline. And their hearts would just swell. The kind of joy that came from knowing death had circled, lingered, and then backed the hell off.

But then their eyes would find him.

Park Sunghoon.

And all that joy would morph into something more complicated.

Resentment. Caution. Bitter protectiveness.

He knew it. He never asked them to let it go quickly.

So he did what none of them expected: he worked for their forgiveness.

He started with Jungwon.

Their leader still fuming behind calm eyes didn’t make it easy. Sunghoon bowed his head in the war room one day, whispered apologies only Jungwon could hear. It wasn’t a grand gesture. It was the kind of apology that didn’t beg, just meant it.

Then came Jake and Ni-ki. The former glared at him for a full two weeks, the latter made biting jokes about how “maybe Sunghoon’s next bright idea could include lighting himself on fire.”

He deserved it.

He helped Jay prep for combat classes. Sparred with Sunoo until his ribs were bruised. Sat through Ni-ki’s snide commentary while helping paint props for the charity gala.

And the girls? That was a war all on its own.

He passed Seori in the hall once, and she didn’t even blink as she waved her fingers, casting an illusion of vines growing from the floor to wrap around his legs.

“I’ll lift it in ten minutes,” she said sweetly. “If you’re still here by then, I’ll make them real.”

She meant it.

Da-eun handed him a muffin one day before snatching it back and muttering, “That’s for not making my best friend cry, jackass.”

Jiyoon, the kindest of the three, simply nodded at him one day and said, “It’s a start.”

Sora?

The rose gold haired shadow fae didn't say anything.

At least not to him.

She would vanish in a puff of smoke the second he walked into any room. She wouldn’t look at him, wouldn’t breathe in his direction. One day she bumped into him in the corridor, stared at him with big watery eyes, and then loudly said, “Ew,” before disappearing into thin air.

He didn't blame her.

Not once.

And then there was Kija, his mate, his girl, his future.

She didn’t make him beg.

She didn’t make him bleed.

But she didn’t let him in.

Not yet.

They spoke sometimes, short, guarded conversations in passing. Sometimes she nodded at him in the lunch line. Once, she let him carry her bag when she was limping from training. Another time, he walked her home when it got too dark in the woods. But she kept her distance, held her heart tight in her hands like it had been stitched back together with silk thread and any wrong move would tear it open again.

And he honored it.

Every. Time.

He never touched her without asking. Never crowded her. Never said mine even when every fiber of his being screamed it.

And the girls noticed.

They noticed how he sat at the end of every group gathering now, waiting for permission.

How he brought Seori lemon tarts from the enchanted bakery when she was studying late. How he remembered Da-eun’s smoothie order. How he complimented Sora’s potions under his breath when she passed.

He was made of snow and silence, edges cruel with cold. Yet he learned gentleness, and beneath patient hands and braver hearts, the frost began to give. Slowly. So slowly, they started melting.

One by one.

Da-eun let him sit beside her and Ni-ki during movie night.

Seori asked him to pass the salt at lunch without hexing him.

Jiyoon asked him if he was okay after a long mission.

Sora?

Sora still stuck her tongue out at him and used her magic to tie his shoelaces together when he wasn’t looking.

He could live with that.

It meant she was still watching.

Still caring, in her own angry, baby faerie way.

The biggest shift happened on a rainy evening when the group was holed up in Kija's dorm everyone curled up on couches and blankets, the sound of the storm outside humming like background music.

Kija walked into the room after getting tea, spotted Sunghoon sitting quietly by the window and she brought him his favorite mug.

Didn’t say anything.

Just placed it beside him.

And in that moment, when he glanced up, met her eyes, and didn’t say a word they both knew.

The wall was still up. But maybe…just maybe…it wasn’t so high anymore.

And somewhere across the room, Sora narrowed her eyes, let out a soft puff of smoke, and glared with the force of a thousand suns.

Because her best friend will live now.

But she hadn’t forgotten.

And that boy still had a long, long way to go.

The sun was golden and soft, weaving lazy patterns through the branches of the giant sycamore tree they’d gathered beneath.

A picnic blanket was sprawled out across the grass behind the academy’s greenhouse, thick with pillows, drinks in glass bottles, half eaten snacks, and enchanted trinkets the girls had traded earlier. The mountain breeze was gentle, the sky blue as ink poured into water, and laughter rang out every few minutes like windchimes.

They needed this.

No battles, no soul bonds, no death looming in corners.

Just them.

Jiyoon was flat on her back, tossing a charmed apple into the air and catching it lazily. Da-eun was combing Sora’s long hair with a delicate wooden brush, enchanted so it never pulled too hard. Seori was doodling tiny ink flowers across Da-eun’s ankle with an enchanted pen that tickled and made her yelp every thirty seconds.

And Kija?

She was watching them all with a soft smile on her lips, her sun kissed arms curled beneath her head, her black hair catching streaks of sunlight like onyx turned silk.

“I can’t believe we got her out of the bat cave,” Seori teased as she nudged Sora with her foot.

The shadow fae didn’t even flinch. She tilted her chin up like a queen. “Please. I’m not cute. I’m your shadow protector,” she announced proudly, lifting her hands like she was conjuring a storm.

“Cute and dramatic,” Jiyoon snorted.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Sora smirked, eyes flicking briefly to the treetops like she was calculating the best branch to vanish into. But she didn’t move. Not today.

“Sunoo said you were adorable when you were reading out loud during study group,” Da-eun added with a sing-song lilt.

“Sunghoon can fuck himself,” Sora replied instantly, wrongly assuming they were talking about him, and the entire blanket broke into chaotic laughter.

“Sora, no one was talking about Sunghoon,” Seori choked out, clutching her stomach.

“Well,” Sora muttered, crossing her arms and narrowing her eyes like an angry squirrel, “he can still fuck himself. Just in general.”

Kija was howling, practically wheezing.

God, she loved them.

Sora had come such a long way. The quiet, soft spoken girl who used to whisper apologies for existing was now the one throwing the first verbal punch in any argument. And the girls? They loved it. Every chaotic second.

They were all better because of each other.

After the laughter calmed, a few minutes of quiet passed as birds sang in the trees and the breeze danced with their hair.

Then Kija spoke, her voice calm and sure.

“I love him,” she said. No dramatics. No build up. Just honesty laid down like a flower on the grass.

No one interrupted.

“I know I shouldn’t. I know he hurt me. But I do. And I’m not in a rush anymore,” she said, staring at the clouds. “He’s trying. And I’m healing. I just want to make sure it’s real. That he sees me. Not just the mate bond. Me.”

The silence that followed wasn’t heavy, it was sacred. Understanding. Safe.

“You’re doing it exactly right,” Jiyoon said softly.

“You already survived the worst part,” Da-eun added, fingers still weaving through Sora’s hair.

“Now you get to choose the pace,” Seori finished. “Not him.”

Sora turned to her best friend, resting her chin on her knees. “He’s on a tight leash, though. You say the word, I’ll enchant his mouth shut for a week.”

Kija grinned, heart full. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

And the girls lay back again, the sun warming their cheeks, the world soft and golden around them.

No monsters.

No mates.

Just them five different kinds of magic, stitched together by love and loyalty. And somewhere in the distance, the wind whispered secrets to the sea below as if it, too, was proud.

The Seven’s mansion was loud again, weeks later.

Laughter bounced off the ancient walls, music played from a hidden speaker in the corner, and the scent of vampire strength cologne, sweet wine, and whatever enchanted snacks the fae had brought filled the air.

It felt like home again.

The girls lounged across the sprawling living room like they owned the place. Jiyoon curled against Heeseung on the oversized armchair he refused to share with anyone else, Da-eun perched on Ni-ki’s lap as he fed her grapes one by one with way too much smugness, and Seori and Sora were tangled on the fluffy rug with Jake, all three mock wrestling like siblings.

Kija stood by the windows, bathed in moonlight, hair a wild halo of shadows and silk, a lollipop lazily resting between her lips. Sunghoon leaned beside her, far too close for it to be casual, his hand brushing against hers every so often like he couldn’t help himself.

They hadn’t mated. Not yet.

But they might as well have.

The tension between them was electric, unspoken, unclaimed, but completely undeniable.

Sunghoon looked different now. Softer around the edges, more relaxed. Like he had stopped holding his breath. Every glance he threw her way came with heat and need. And when she leaned toward him and whispered something in his ear something only for him he smiled.

God, he smiled.

Then, he moved.

The entire room quieted at once.

Even the music turned off. Someone probably Sunoo clicked the remote in slow motion.

Sunghoon approached the chaos trio on the floor, where Sora had Jake in a half arm-lock and was aggressively yanking Seori’s hair at the same time.

He stopped just beside them, standing with his usual glacial stillness, a small object wrapped in silk behind his back.

Sora didn't even look up. “If you’re standing there to ask if I forgive you, the answer is still fuck off.”

Jake cleared his throat, suddenly interested in the way the rug was woven. Seori looked like she was holding in a scream.

But Sunghoon didn’t flinch. Instead, he crouched slightly, bringing the wrapped object into view.

“I’m not here to talk,” he said calmly, almost gently. “I just wanted to give you something.”

That made her pause.

Sora blinked.

Then narrowed her eyes.

She slowly let go of Jake’s arm who scrambled away like a squirrel avoiding a trap, and stared at the thing like it might explode.

“What is it?” she asked suspiciously.

Sunghoon didn’t answer.

She snatched it with a speed that made everyone flinch.

The room stayed still. Frozen. Waiting.

Sora unwrapped it, eyes narrowing further…until they went wide.

“Oh my god,” she breathed.

The faintest curl of pink mist shimmered across her back.

Seori sat up fast. “Wait. Is that the-?”

Kija smirked from the window, pleased.

Sora didn’t say a word. She just ran her hands over the object like it was the most precious thing in the world. A rare fae item she’d mentioned once just once in passing at the spring market months ago.

A shimmer of pink glowed brighter along her skin.

Then with a small, unconscious flex of emotion, they appeared.

Her wings.

Delicate, intricate, iridescent. Like spun rose quartz, laced with starlight and shadow. The room gasped in unison, not because of the wings themselves, but because none of them had ever seen them before.

Not once.

Sora stood slowly, glowing faintly in the dim light, shimmering with restrained power and quiet awe. She turned her head up toward Sunghoon, he was still so tall and crossed her arms in the most Sora fashion imaginable.

Then said, “Un-fuck you. Or whatever.”

The room exploded.

Ni-ki wheezed so hard he fell off the couch. Sunoo choked on his drink. Jake laughed so loud it cracked the silence spell they’d unknowingly fallen under. Jiyoon and Da-eun screamed. Heeseung actually clapped.

Sunghoon just smiled small, but real. “I’ll take it.”

Sora blinked at him once, gave him a begrudging nod, then turned on her heel and marched back toward the couch, wings still flickering with color like living art.

Seori grabbed her arm and hissed, “You’re so dramatic, I love it.”

“Still annoyed by him,” Sora muttered, flopping into the pillows. “But that was good.”

Kija laughed, walking across the room to plop down beside her favorite fae gremlin, tossing a wink over her shoulder to the ice prince still standing stunned and slightly relieved by the fire pit.

Forgiveness didn’t come easy.

But tonight?

Tonight was a start.

And chaos, it seemed, was back in full swing.

It happened in a blink.

One moment Kija was minding her business under a blooming willow tree with her girls, a faint breeze tugging at her dark hair as she licked her lollipop and listened to Sora rant about potion recipes. The next she saw her.

A vampire girl.

Too pretty, too confident, too close.

And she was smiling.

At her mate.

Sunghoon stood there, unsuspecting and relaxed, one hand in his pocket, his eyes focused on the ground like he was thinking about the clouds or battle strategy, or Y/n, if he had any damn sense. He didn’t even see the girl until she was right there in front of him, placing a hand on his arm like she belonged there.

Kija’s lollipop snapped between her teeth.

That was her man.

Her body moved before her brain did. The heat was instant, rage uncoiling like lightning in her bloodstream. She was across the grass in seconds, barely hearing her name behind her. Sunghoon finally noticed the approaching storm when her shadow covered his boots.

“Back off,” Kija hissed.

The vampire girl blinked, confused until she was shoved.

Not gently. Not politely.

The girl stumbled back with a sharp gasp.

Kija didn’t give her the chance to say anything. She reached for Sunghoon’s wrist, gripped it tight, and tugged him with her like he weighed nothing. He didn’t resist.

Not one bit.

In fact, he looked like he was enjoying it.

“Kija—” he started.

“Don’t talk to me,” she snapped, dragging him through campus like he was tethered to her. And maybe he was. Maybe she’d strangle him later. Or kiss him so hard he couldn’t breathe.

They reached her dorm in a blur of fury and footsteps. She flung the door open, yanked him inside, and slammed it shut with a final crack that shook the frame.

Then she turned.

Sunghoon stood there, arms loose at his sides, breathing calm. Infuriatingly calm.

“You did that on purpose,” she hissed.

His mouth twitched. “I didn’t even see her coming.”

“Liar.”

“I didn’t stop you either.”

Her anger peaked rage and want mixing like fire and oil. “You’re mine.”

“I know.”

And then she was on him.

She launched forward, crashing her mouth against his in a kiss that wasn’t sweet or gentle it was furious. A clash of teeth and lips and breath. He stumbled back a step but caught her waist, grounding her to him, lips parting for her.

She bit his bottom lip.

He growled.

Sunghoon’s hands slipped to the backs of her thighs, and suddenly she was airborne, legs around his waist, pinned to the wall with his full strength pressing into her. Their kisses turned messier, deeper, like every unspoken word between them was being devoured and claimed in gasps.

“You like it when I’m possessive?” she hissed into his mouth.

He smirked, pupils blown. “I like when you’re you.”

She kissed him again, tongue demanding, but the moment she got cocky, he flipped the dynamic pressing harder, angling her jaw with firm fingers, showing her exactly who he was.

His voice rumbled low against her throat. “Mine.”

“Prove it.”

He did.

The room blurred, clothes peeled, heat tangled, limbs locked in a tangle of breathless need. He whispered how much he loved her, how sorry he was for everything, how he’d never hurt her again. She could feel the bond coiling between their ribs, snapping tight like silk and steel.

And then neither of them could take it anymore.

“I want you to bite me,” he said hoarsely, lips at her neck.

Kija froze slightly. Her siren eyes flickered into dangerous slits. “Are you sure?”

“We don’t know what it could do to you,” she whispered. “My bite...no siren has ever-”

“Does it feel right?” He simply asked with full trust as her teeth turned to sharp points, each tooth pointed like knives meant for death. But not here.

Her breath hitched.

Yes.

God, yes.

Her fangs slid down.

She pressed her forehead to his, her voice a shaky whisper. “Don’t let go.”

“I won’t.”

Then she bit him, deep and careful, sinking into his neck just above his collarbone. His whole body tensed and shuddered, but he didn’t pull away. The bond burst open like a supernova, blooming in color and heat and something ancient. Their souls snapped together.

Sunghoon’s hands gripped her tighter, and he whispered her name like it was a prayer.

She didn’t stop until she felt it—his pulse syncing with hers. Until she knew.

When she pulled back, her lips were stained red, her body trembling.

“Mine,” she whispered.

“Yours,” he promised, voice ragged, eyes dark with love and lust and something so magical. “Always.”

They kissed again aggressive, aching, but this time, it wasn’t about anger or dominance or jealousy. This was claiming. Completion. Two chaotic hearts finally, finally settling into one rhythm.

And when they collapsed into bed tangled in sheets and each other, the bond pulsing warm and alive beneath their skin, she whispered, “I hate how much I love you.”

Sunghoon just laughed, curling his fingers into her hair. “You’ll survive me, siren.”

“No,” she murmured against his chest. “You’ll survive me.”

And he would.

Because now?

He was hers.

Forever.

The moon was high, casting its silver glow through the massive glass windows of the restaurant nestled on the cliffs outside campus. Warm golden lights shimmered above the long dining table, laughter echoing between bites of food and clinking glasses. It was the first real family dinner the group had shared in months. No tension, no fights, no lingering heartbreaks.

Just them.

The Seven.

And the Girls.

All twelve, squeezed around the wide circular table that the poor hostess had scrambled to arrange when she saw them walking in. Vampires. Faes. A Siren. Chaos incarnate.

Sora was curled up between Heeseung and Jiyoon, cheeks full of bread, listening to the banter around her with half lidded contentment. Her pink tinged hair was braided to one side, glowing faintly in the light, and for the first time in a long time, her little heart wasn’t carrying a single grudge.

Not anymore.

She blinked up at Sunghoon across the table.

Then stood.

Without a word, she skipped over to his side her shoes practically silent despite her urgency and looked up at him expectantly.

Sunghoon blinked. “…Sora?”

“Stand up,” she demanded.

He did.

She reached forward without hesitation and threw her arms around his waist, hugging him so tight his eyes went wide.

She barely even reached his ribs, but the energy behind it, pure and light and forgiving stopped the entire table.

When she pulled back, she looked up at him with sparkling eyes and said simply, “I like you. I hope you don’t go bald.”

Then she turned right back around and plopped herself between Heeseung and Jiyoon like nothing had happened.

Silence.

Then pure, unhinged chaos.

“THAT’S MY SISTER!” Jake cheered, slamming his fist into the air. “THE CUTEST LITTLE MONSTER ALIVE!”

Sunoo was crying laughing. “Oh my god, she hugged him. He got hugged by the vengeance fae. We can die in peace.”

Ni-ki leaned over to Da-eun. “You think he’s crying inside? Be honest.”

Jungwon wiped an imaginary tear. “Character development.”

Jiyoon clapped like she just witnessed a miracle.

Sunghoon stood frozen, hand still slightly raised from the hug, completely blindsided.

Kija grinned from where she was sitting beside him. She reached up, curled her fingers into the front of his shirt, and pulled him down toward her with ease.

“Well?” she asked, lips brushing his ear. “Are you gonna cry?”

He gave her a small, dazed chuckle, then cupped her cheek gently. “Not unless you break up with me.”

“I’d never,” she whispered, and leaned in for a kiss slow, sure, full of laughter and years of love to come.

The table erupted again.

“EW! Get a coffin!” Jay gagged.

“LET THEM KISS,” Jiyoon shouted.

Sunghoon just kissed her again.

And this time?

He knew exactly what he had.