#Reverse harem

[tsuy4n]

The Artist Who Lives for the Plot

Warning/s: Fem!Reader, Mild language/casual swearing, chaotic energy (duh), unhinged humor, reader suffering (comically)

[A/n]: I had so much fun writing, and dw. Part 2 will be coming soon. It's time to live with them. If it all fits, that'll be the last and final one! Thank you for your support <3

>Part 1<, Part 2

Day 1: Staff Badge, Zero Fear

You just received a job. Technically, a side-job.

You needed the extra cash. Rent was due next week, and at this point, the only thing growing faster than your stress was the mold in your bathroom.

Being a webtoon artist had always been the dream. You studied—poses, anatomy, lighting, shading, even a bit of photography thanks to that one kind sunbae back in high school. You poured years into perfecting your craft. But… doing your dream job in reality?

Yeah. Not exactly how you imagined it.

Making money through art was already hard. Add today’s economy into the mix, and suddenly budgeting meant rotating between cheap instant meals and whatever eggs were on sale. Not the healthiest diet, but it got you through deadlines. Mostly.

Anyway. Enough with that depressing backstory.

Today, you were helping out behind the scenes—cleaning up, running errands, doing whatever the other staff didn’t have time for. The entire building was in chaos, people rushing around, shouting schedules, checking equipment. Apparently, some new boy group was debuting soon.

Like, in a week or something? You hadn’t seen them yet, but you had heard things.

"They’re gorgeous," One of the stylists whispered while curling a wig. "Like, inhuman levels of beautiful."

That alone was enough to catch your attention.

You weren’t trying to ogle anyone. You just needed some visual inspiration. For art, obviously.

So when someone asked you to bring water to the practice room? You may or may not have speed-walked your way there with the excitement of a fangirl and the blank expression of a very tired assistant.

The moment you opened the door, chaos greeted you. They were arguing. And loud.

Great for drama. Better for material.

"Do you want to achieve world domination or not?!" The black-haired one snapped, voice sharp like he was conducting a military operation instead of a boy group practice.

"Then hit the beat— on time!"

Ah, the leader. Jinu, you think was his name.

"You're 0.5 seconds off." The one who's half of his face was covered with hair flatly said.

"I told you, it’s called flair." Said the one with pink hair, heart-shaped bangs framing his face.

"You mean lag." The mint haired muttered, eyes glued to his phone.

"Shut it." Groaned the one with the ridiculous muscles, dabbing sweat off his face like a disappointed gym coach. "Let’s just start from the top before Captain Serious combusts."

That’s when they noticed you.

But by then, you’d already seen them—and everything else.

Oh, your eyes. They were blinding.

It was like walking into a manhwa panel. Ethereal lighting. Sweat glistening on toned arms. Perfect jawlines. Tall, broad silhouettes. You barely managed not to trip over your own feet.

This was it. The vision. You felt it. The inspiration burning through your veins.

You cleared your throat, doing your best to keep a neutral expression as you set the bottles near the mirrors.

And then, you said it. Casual. Straight-faced. Deadpan. "If this is what world domination looks like, I think the lighting needs work."

Silence.

They stared, blinked, and glanced at one another. Confused.

Jinu sighed. "Let’s take five."

The rest of the group immediately relaxed, stretching, dropping to the floor, cheering like they’d survived a war. Understandable. You heard they’d been practicing for hours.

You tried not to stare. You failed.

A voice pulled your attention.

"Thanks for the drink, cutie." It's the long haired dude. His voice was smooth and his smile was confident, borderline illegal.

Romance. That had to be his stage name.

Your eyes did a quick scan. You were mentally labeling all of them. It wasn’t weird. Not in a weird way. No. This was research.

Another one, shirt clinging to his abs like it was painted on, snatched a bottle and chugged it like he hadn’t tasted water in days. Abby, clearly.

You blinked. He was broad. The kind of chest that made you think of shirt buttons fighting for their lives. He smirked at you.

You immediately looked away and bowed slightly, mouthing a silent apology for being caught staring.

Then your gaze moved to the one on his phone, laughing at something you can't tell.

"That's so dumb." Mint hair said under his breath. His face? Cute. His voice? Low. Totally not what you expected, but love. You eat that kinda character up in stories.

He must be Baby.

Then there was the guy with long pastel hair partially covering his face. He hadn’t said a word. He hadn’t even looked your way. Mysterious aura? Check. It's clear he's Mystery.

And finally, back to Jinu. The leader. He carried himself like someone dependable. Stern but fair, and he's like that because he wants to see them all succeed.

That's such an eye watering story.

You tried not to squeal. Really, you did. But your fingers were already itching to draw. You can't wait for break to come.

Speaking of break... You look at them. It's only been a minute since they started that. You shouldn't, yeah.

"Excuse me." And yet you're already speaking. "Would it be alright if I took some photos?"

The room quieted a little. You could practically hear their thoughts. Another poor staff member, helpless under their charms.

"Go ahead." Jinu said, offering a small smile. What a charming fella.

He seems like he’d be one of those knight captains in those historical webtoons. The kind who stands behind the throne, silent and strong, carrying the kingdom on his back without asking for thanks.

Daydreaming later, let’s get clicking!

With permission granted, you lit up and pulled out your phone, trying hard not to bounce in excitement. As soon as your camera opened, they were already posing.

Of course they were.

You took a few shots—clean, fast, a few from different angles. They assumed you were done. They assumed wrong.

You lowered your phone, frowned slightly, and pointed at Abby.

"Flex your arm. No—more toward that side. Yes, hold that. Chin down."

They all froze.

"Huh?" Abby blinked.

And just like that, a full-on impromptu photoshoot began. You were directing them like your life depended on it. They followed along, slightly confused but too prideful to stop now.

"Yo..." Abby muttered, peeking at one of the photos. "I didn’t know my abs could look this good. Muscle definition on point."

He's beyond satisfied and that boosts your confidence in your photography skills yet again.

Soon, the rest of them were swarming your phone, snatching it to see their pictures and gawk at their undeniably gorgeous self.

Before chaos could start between them, you took your phone back in your hands as a really huge and bright smile was on your face.

"Thank you so much for indulging this staff member her request!" You made your way to the door with an awkward half-bow, twisting the knob, turning back one last time.

"I’m rooting for you guys! You got this!"

And with that, you were gone. Silence lingered in the room.

"So are we just letting random staff direct us now?" Baby asked, glancing at the others. "Cool. Cool cool cool."

"Yeah." Romance agreed with a nod. "But she's cute isn't she?"

"Every girl’s cute to you." Abby said, bumping his shoulder against him and tossing an arm lazily around Romance’s neck. "Get new taste, man."

"She didn’t even ask for an autograph." Jinu added, almost puzzled. Usually people would ask for that. He did his research well, you know.

"She just wanted photos." Mystery mumbled, his head tilting slightly to the side.

"Of us," Abby said proudly, a sudden, inexplicable breeze swept through the room—no open windows, no vents. Just vibes(?)

The edge of Abby’s fitted shirt lifted slightly, just enough to reveal a flash of perfectly sculpted abs.

He smirked. "Duh."

Fast forward—

Your first day ended early. Convenient, right? That meant more time to look at the pictures you took earlier. You couldn’t wait to study those shots, not in a weird way.

You’d been stuck on one panel of your webtoon for days, and no matter how deep you dove into Pinterest or Google, nothing looked quite right.

But thanks to that idol group, your prayers were answered. Sort of.

You expected to be on the bus by now, earbuds in, zoning out to music. Instead, you were standing in front of a convenience store, digging through your bag for your wallet when a realization hit you like a truck.

No cable. No charger. Not even a hint of it.

You double-checked. Nope. Gone.

You groaned out loud, dragging a hand down your face.

"Perfect." You muttered with a scowl. "Love that for me."

Then again, a bit of late-night cardio never hurt anyone. Yeah, scratch that shit. The universe clearly hated you.

The studio was still unlocked, the lobby empty. You flashed your staff ID in front of the scanner near the door—it beeped, the lock clicked, and in you went.

The overhead lights had been dimmed. Most of the staff were long gone. The silence was oddly calming.

You retraced your steps, mentally going through every place you'd stopped during the day. The break room was empty. No luck. The side lounge? Same story.

Third option: the rehearsal room.

You sighed. "Third time’s the charm." You mumbled, adjusting the strap on your bag as you headed down the hallway.

Your steps slowed as you neared the practice room. The door was closed, but voices leaked through—low, intense. Not the usual banter or off-key singing. Just… murmurs. Uneven. Cult-like.

You blinked. 'Holy hell, they’re still practicing?'

You glanced at your phone. It was late. Your shift ended an hour ago.

What are they made of? Protein powder and ambition?

What are they eating? Dreams? Caffeine? Hope??

You needed to ask. Not for curiosity. For survival. Your deadline was crawling up your spine like a tax collector and you were this close to drawing stick figures for tomorrow’s update.

The lights under the door flickered—blue, then red, then something that looked like a Windows error message.

You stared. Paused. Maybe they were testing stage lights.

Maybe they were summoning Satan. You didn't care. You just needed your charger. So you pushed the door open.

"I’m really sorry for disturbing you, but—" No matter how tired you were from today’s chaos, you still had manners.

They stood in a loose circle, shadows stretched long and unnatural, and… was that a portal? How the hell did they manage that?

If it was an illusion, it was top-tier. What were they feeding these hologram artists? Everyone in this team was way too talented.

Six heads snapped toward you.

You only blinked, admiration shining in your eyes. "Cool cosplay. Is this for the music video?"

A beat of silence.

Then your gaze flicked to the ceiling, eyes narrowing in critique. "Lighting’s a bit much, though. Shadows are swallowing Jinu’s jawline—tragic. Tilt the main source up just a bit next time."

You said what you said and you don't want to wait for a reply. You turn on your phone flashlight and started scanning the floor, stepping past the demon-plush aesthetic like you were dodging cables on a cluttered set.

There. Your charger lay near the edge of the mirror wall.

You scooped it up with a triumphant sigh and gave them all a quick thumbs-up.

"Good luck on the scene rehearsal." You chirped, already walking toward the door.

Click.

The door shut behind you, leaving nothing but baffled beings.

"…Who was that?" One of the figures finally asked, voice low and sharp.

"Staff." Abby replied, blinking.

"A weird human." Baby added, eyes at the door just like the others.

The tallest demon tilted its head, "Should we take care of her?"

The hunger was clear in its tone. Like it could already taste your soul.

Jinu was the first to speak. "No," He said sharply. "Not yet."

There was a pause. The demon turned slightly toward him. "You hesitate."

"I don’t make moves without information." Jinu said, arms crossed. "She’s… off."

"Off?" One of the smaller ones asked. "She looked normal."

"She looked like she was analyzing us," He muttered as he thought back to your behavior from earlier. "Not scared. Not confused. She looked like she’d seen stranger things."

"She was watching our movements earlier," Mystery informed from his corner, his voice soft. "Sketchpad in her lap."

"You sure it's not some fanfic crap?" Baby deadpanned.

"No." Jinu replied, tone quieter now. "It wasn’t that kind of writing. It was too structured. Like she was mapping something out. Watching patterns."

The demons seemed vaguely amused by the theory.

"So… a spy?" One of them asked, half-joking.

"Maybe," Jinu’s expression darkened. "Or something else. Either way, I’ll figure it out."

He didn’t voice the rest:

She looked one of the demon in the eye like she was judging him.

She also told them to fix the lighting.

She moved like the demon was interrupting her schedule.

Either she’s an expert who’ll be a problem later…or just another idiot with good timing and bad boundaries. Still. Better to play it safe.

The demons didn’t press. They glanced at one another then shrugged. Fine. Let him figure it out. Would’ve been more fun if he let them eat her soul, but hey—he’s the leader.

Without another word, they vanished through the pink portals back to the demon realm, leaving behind silence.

It didn’t last long.

Romance sighed dreamily. "Okay but… if she is a spy, she’s kinda hot."

Jinu didn’t reply. He just rubbed his temples, the beginnings of a headache forming right behind his eyes.

First a debut, now possible espionage from the world’s most dead-eyed assistant with a sketchpad.

Great.

He’d already built enough stress to level a small village. Now this?

…Cool. Fine. He’ll handle it. He always does.

Still.

Lighting advice?? Who just— No. Never mind. He stood straighter, his focus clear as glass.

He'll take care of you sooner or later once he knows your motive.

And so you lived through the first day of your new side-job.

Sure, it ended with strange flickering lights, a suspiciously cult-like gathering, and the very real possibility that the idol group you just met might be into LARPing or, worse, weird method acting.

But hey, sick concept. You respect the dedication. You genuinely hoped they listened to your advice about the lighting.

Still, your charger was back in your bag, your sketchpad was bursting with ideas, you get to draw that panel finally, and your rent wouldn’t pay itself.

So, if a bunch of pretty boys wanted to summon smoke and dramatic lighting on company time?

Not your business—as long as they made great reference material.

As you draw, you think things like:

Abby’s arms practically had their own agency. You swore his biceps flexed every time he blinked.

Jinu looked like a man carrying the weight of his group… and your outstanding bills.

And Romance? Prince face, main character energy, and probably the type to Google himself just to read the fan comments.

You, on the other hand, were so innocently, completely unaware of what awaited you.

Probably harassment, but definitely plot.

Day 2: HR Is Not Ready for This

You didn’t expect much on your second day.

Maybe some light sweating, a few awkward water runs, and enough quiet time to sneak in some sketching or brainstorm for ideas on your story.

You just wanted to observe, breathe, survive. Simple.

But the universe and apparently five very nosy boys had other plans.

The moment you entered the room, the air shifted. Not dramatically. Just enough to feel… watched.

Your gaze moved from one to the next—Abby adjusting his shirt (and definitely flexing more than needed), Mystery casually stretching nearby like a ninja cat, Baby muttering to himself while scrolling, and Jinu… he was definitely looking at you.

But you didn’t notice that.

You were too focused on your clipboard, scribbling poses and notes like a diligent little artist.

"You’ve been staring again."

You jumped a little. Jinu’s voice. Low. Observant.

You blinked up at him. "Oh, um— sorry?"

His brow arched before a tiny smile tugged at his lips. An attempt to lighten up the air around. "It’s fine. Just… felt like you were memorizing our skeletons."

You laughed, a little too nervously. "No! I mean—well, kind of? I’m an artist."

"...Right."

Was that judgment? You should be offended, right? Yes. But inside.

"It’s for character design," You explained. "I draw for webtoons. You guys are… kind of perfect models."

Jinu studied you. Scribbly. Polite. Very tired. But his gut didn’t trust you. "…Just don’t publish anything weird about us."

You gave him a two-finger salute. "No promises."

He walked off—suspicious, calculating, and weirdly handsome about it.

You sighed, then looked down. You’d circled a line on your page.

"Too symmetrical. Suspicious."

The second day at work is fun! Yeah, right. Fucking fuck. Today's exhausting. And not the "Wow, they’re so dreamy, I’m swooning~" kind.

No. This was “I swear to god if one of them breathes over my shoulder again, I will throw this pen” level of tired.

You were just trying to observe quietly, take notes, and survive the shift.

But subtle glances? Apparently that translated to "please, harass me."

Romance started singing, badly, every time your pen moved. Said it helped set the mood. You told him to change the playlist.

Abby kept "accidentally" standing right in your view. Shirt raised. Flex engaged. Asking, "How’s the lighting on my triceps now?"

Mystery appeared over your shoulder with zero warning, stared at your sketch, nodded, then vanished again like an IKEA ghost.

Baby? Baby muttered your critique out loud just to mess with you.

"‘Neck angle inconsistent’? Wow, harsh." All while smirking so handsomely. Baby. As in the one from hell. With Wi-Fi and zero respect for your peace. Like his fucking members.

You squinted at him, nearly blessing the world with the ugliest scowl known to man. "How are you even reading that from across the room?"

He didn’t answer. He just smiled wider.

Oh, these bastards were enjoying your suffering.

Was bullying the new staff part of their team-building exercises? Hazing disguised as charisma? They haven’t even debuted yet!

The audacity when their Spotify numbers are still at zero.

You'd think world domination came with manners, but no.

Contrary to their faces—artfully sculpted by angels or Photoshop—their personalities were straight-up hellspawn. (Ironic.)

By the time you were done, your social battery had collapsed into dust. You passed by a staff member in the hallway, maybe a stylist or someone from props.

"You look… drained."

You nodded. "Drained is generous. I feel like I’ve been emotionally dry-cleaned."

They laughed. You didn’t. You're mourning your peace.

Meanwhile, back in the practice room:

The air was quieter now. But tense.

Jinu stood near the speaker, arms crossed. His expression unreadable. "She’s hiding something."

The others didn’t laugh this time.

"Maybe she’s just weird." Baby offered his thought.

"Doesn’t mean she’s not dangerous." Jinu replied.

"So what, we just keep annoying her until she cracks?" Romance said, upside-down on the couch, legs kicking in the air like a chaotic cat.

"No." Jinu’s eyes didn’t waver. "We keep watching her until she shows us what she’s really here for.”

There was a beat of silence.

Then Abby grinned like he's excited and can't wait to act whatever on his mind. "So. Strategic pestering. Got it."

Jinu didn’t stop him, or anyone of the boys. Whatever it takes to make you crack he guess.

Later that night, you collapsed at your desk.

Still alive. Barely.

You flipped open your sketchpad, flipping past pages of poses, muscle references, and narrowed notes.

"Abby’s arms could run their own business."

"Romance: pretty, but loud."

"Baby = gremlin with a phone."

"Mystery—??? Stop teleporting???"

You sighed, poked at your charger, then scribbled one last line before calling it a night.

If tomorrow’s like this again, I might fake a cold. Or a coma. Or both.

Still... their interest in your art? Kind of flattering. Mostly annoying.

[yogirl-willow]

The Crimson Pact | Part 4

Characterizations | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

SoulBond!AU

Pairings: Yandere!Saja Boys x F!Reader

Synopsis: You were never supposed to remember them.

Four hundred years ago, a pact was made—a blood-soaked bond tying five demons to one human soul: yours.

They’ve waited lifetimes for your reincarnation, cursed with obsession, tethered by fate.

And now that you’ve returned?

They’ll burn the world before they let you go again.

Warnings: Soul bond with the Saja Boys, Yandere themes!, obsessive behavior / possessiveness, romantic psychological tension, mentions of implied past death / reincarnation, intense emotional fixation, yearning, dark romance, hurt/comfort

A/N: Another chapter for my lovely readers! Thank you for the support! I hope you enjoy this one. <3 I'll also be cross-posting to AO3 now that this chapter is written.

───────── ༺🜃༻ ─────────

The Saja boys are all demons.

They are wrath and ruin. Jealousy and death.

And yet, before her, they kneel.

Because she is the Heart. Because her soul is what keeps them from unraveling into true monsters. Because they were bound by her love and her curse.

They don’t just crave her—they depend on her. Without her presence, their minds deteriorate. Their bodies decay. Their hunger becomes unbearable.

Only Y/N’s touch tames the demon inside.

────────── ⚘ ──────────

Part 4:

What They Would Give

The dream was silk and shadow.

Gold candlelight flickered across paper walls. A bipa hummed in the distance, low and mournful, each note a whisper from another life. Your bare feet pressed against cold stone floors, hem of your hanbok brushing the ground as you moved silently through the eastern wing of the palace. You knew this place. Knew every turn, every tile, every secret door the nobles thought you were too stupid to notice.

But you weren’t stupid. And he always knew that.

“Yeobo,” a voice breathed behind you—low, reverent, broken. You turned.

Jinu stood beneath the moonlight, hair tied back, royal silks stained with dirt. His face was young—so achingly young—but those eyes held lifetimes. They always had.

He reached for you, and when you didn’t flinch, his hand cupped your cheek like you were something made of music and prayers. “You shouldn’t be here.”

You smiled, teasing, like always. “Neither should you.”

He laughed softly. God, that sound.

“Did they find out?” you asked, voice quieter now. “About us?”

His silence was answer enough.

The dream shifted. You were in his private room now, tucked between scrolls and incense and the scent of him. He knelt beside you, watching as you dabbed the scrape on his hand.

“I’m not worth the blood you spill,” you whispered once. And he had looked at you like you’d torn open the sky. “Don’t say that.”

“Then don’t let them hurt you for me.”

Another shift. Rain pounded against palace tiles. The smell of smoke. The wail of women in the distance. He held you against his chest—his heartbeat frantic as yours slowed.

“Stay awake,” he begged.

But the poison was already in your lungs. You tried to speak, to tell him you weren’t afraid. That it wasn’t his fault. But all that came out was blood. And he had screamed your name like it would call your soul back.

The dream cracked.

You stood in the palace courtyard now. Alone. Wind howling. Your breath fogged before you. A mirror rippled in the dark—a still pool once used by concubines for beauty rituals.

You stepped forward. Looked in. And saw him.

Not Jinu.

Not exactly.

His face was his, but darker. Skin a cold hue of purple or blue- you couldn’t tell. Patterns twisted across his neck and flawless face like vines. They glowed a faint violet. His eyes—black and gold, molten and endless. Clawed hands. No blood on them—but you knew there had been. His silks were gone, replaced by flowing black garments that moved like smoke.

He looked up at you. And he smiled.

You screamed.

And woke up. Gasping, drenched in sweat, your sheets tangled around you like vines. Your breath came in sharp bursts. Faint morning light filtered through the blinds, soft against the sheen on your skin.

What the hell was that?

The memories weren’t yours. Couldn’t be yours. You’d never worn a hanbok. At least, not since you were a little girl. Never kissed Jinu beneath the stars or held his trembling hands in a candlelit room. So why did it feel more real than anything else in your life?

You sat up, pressing a shaking hand to your chest. Then—

Knock, knock. Your head snapped toward the door. A voice. Gentle. Familiar. 

“Y/N?” Jinu.

You swallowed, heart still pounding. “I… I’m fine,” you said. Too fast. Too high.

Silence.

Then, “Alright. If you need anything… I’m right outside.”

You exhaled. Slowly. A beat passed. Your hand stayed pressed over your chest. But your thoughts drifted back—not to the kiss, or the palace, or even the blood.

No.

They stayed on that reflection. The patterns. The eyes.

Was that Jinu?

And more terrifying—

Why aren’t you scared of him?

────────── ⚘ ──────────

You padded into the kitchen wrapped in silence and Jinu’s hoodie.

The boys were already there—some seated, some standing—bathed in morning sunlight and the smell of eggs and something sweet. Pancakes maybe? Abby was at the stove, flipping something with surprising delicacy. Baby lounged in the corner seat, head resting lazily against the glass. Mystery sat curled up in his seat like a housecat, eating fruit with his fingers. Romance leaned against the counter, cradling a mug like it was a stage prop he was dramatically rehearsing with.

And Jinu—

Jinu sat at the head of the table, reading a folded newspaper like he hadn’t held you for hours last night, lips pressed against your forehead while your body trembled in remembrance. Before sleep had taken you into that haunting dream.

His eyes flicked up when you entered. “Morning,” he said softly.

You nodded. “Morning.”

You could feel it—the heat of their gazes, the air shifting around you like invisible fingers brushing your skin. There was a gentleness in their posture. A quietness. But also… something else.

Caution.

They were being careful with you. Too careful.

You sat down in the seat Mystery scooted out for you. His cheek brushed your arm and he inhaled like he was starved for it. Your heart did a small, weird flutter. You avoided Jinu’s eyes.

Did they know? Did they see? They were demons. They probably felt it. The bond. The kiss.

Your face burned as you accepted a plate from Abby, who set it down with too much force. His eyes flicked to your neck for half a second before looking away. You could feel the tension rippling through his shoulders.

Oh god. They did know.

Romance was the first to speak. Of course he was. “Sleep well, sweetheart?” he purred, voice warm and slippery. “You look flushed.”

“I’m fine,” you mumbled, stabbing your pancake with unnecessary aggression. “Just hot.”

“Hmm,” he said with a smirk, “I bet you are.”

You flinched. They definitely knew.

Your thoughts spiraled. One kiss. Just one. You didn’t even mean for it to happen. But now— Were you supposed to kiss them all? Were they expecting that? Were they mad?

A clatter drew your eyes—Baby had dropped his fork. He didn’t pick it up. Just stared at you, elbow on the table, jaw resting against his hand. His black eyes flicked down to your mouth.

You quickly looked away.

“I didn’t mean—” you blurted, then froze. “I mean. I… I don’t know what I’m doing. With any of this. With you. With the bond.”

A pause. And then Jinu spoke—gentle, but unshakeable. “You don’t have to do anything.”

You blinked.

“You don’t owe us anything,” he added, folding his paper. “The bond… it’s not a leash. It’s a thread. You pull when you’re ready.”

Mystery leaned against your side, nuzzling your shoulder. “We’ll wait,” he whispered, voice soft. “We always do.”

Romance tilted his head, smiling faintly—but there was something sharper beneath it. “We’ll be patient. But not passive. We still want you to choose us.”

Abby sat beside you, jaw tense. “You don’t have to split yourself up,” he muttered. “You don’t have to kiss anyone until you want to. Really want to.”

You stared down at your plate. Your hands shook. “I don’t want to hurt anyone,” you whispered. “It’s just… too much. Too fast.”

“No one’s hurt,” Jinu said. “We’ve waited four hundred years. We can wait a little longer.”

“You’re not gonna disappear again,” Mystery whispered, holding the edge of your sleeve like he was afraid you might.

“And when you do come to us,” Romance added with a sly glint, “we’d prefer it if it’s because you’re burning for us. Not because you feel guilty.”

You swallowed. Baby’s voice was last to join, quiet but absolute. “We’ve already had your soul. We want your heart now. The rest… can come later.”

You stared at them. Five monsters. Five men. All of them impossibly patient. All of them aching. And still willing to wait for you to fall in love again.

Your throat tightened. You nodded. “Thank you.”

Romance lifted his mug. “Anytime, darling.”

Baby smiled faintly. Abby grunted. Mystery purred. And Jinu just watched you with the softest expression you’d ever seen. 

You took a bite of the pancakes Abby had stacked on your plate and paused. Your eyes widened. “Wait… these are actually good.”

Abby raised a brow. “What do you mean actually?”

Sheepishly, you stabbed another forkful. “I just didn’t expect a demon to know how to make pancakes.”

He scoffed, flicking batter from the spatula. “I’ve been alive for centuries. You think I wouldn’t know how to scramble an egg or flip a damn pancake?”

Romance leaned in, chin on his palm. “He’s particularly good with his hands, if you’re wondering.”

You choked. “I’m not—”

“I have a very diverse skillset,” Abby interrupted smugly. You rolled your eyes—but your smile faltered. Because just then, the warmth of the kitchen, the golden sunlight on the tile, the smell of syrup and coffee—it all fell away.

You remembered silk. And blood. And a flicker of something with glowing eyes staring back at you in a polished palace floor. Your fork paused halfway to your lips. “Hey… can I ask you something?”

All of them stilled. Jinu looked up from his mug. “Of course.”

Your voice dropped, uncertain. “Last night. I saw something. In my dream. It was… dark. I think it was you. But not you.”

Jinu’s fingers tightened slightly around his cup. The others were still. Tense. “I think… I saw your demon form,” you said softly.

Romance’s smile vanished. Mystery immediately tucked himself tighter against your side. Baby stared at you, silent and unmoving, his gaze like ice.

You looked around the table. “I just… What are you? What do you look like?”

For a long moment, no one spoke. Then Jinu sighed. “We’re not hiding anything from you.”

“We just…” Abby scratched the back of his neck. “We’re not exactly cuddly in those forms.”

“She’d still like me,” Mystery mumbled into his fruit.

“You don’t know that,” Abby grunted.

“I do.”

“We literally glow purple and get creepy marks all over our face—”

“She thinks they’re cool!”

“Your eyes turn gold like a cursed cat, bro.”

“She likes cats!”

“Boys,” Jinu said firmly, not looking up from his tea. They went quiet instantly. He turned back to you. “We will show you. In time.”

Romance’s voice was softer than usual. “You’ve already seen us in your dreams. But dreams are hazy. Romantic. We’re… not.”

“We don’t want to scare you,” Jinu said.

“I’m not scared,” you said too quickly.

Five sets of eyes landed on you at once. You shrank a little in your seat. “Okay. Maybe a little.”

Romance smiled sadly. “We’d rather you see us when you’re ready. When the bond is strong enough that you feel what we are before you ever have to see it.”

Jinu reached for your hand gently. “When you’re ready,” he said again. “And when you are… we’ll show you. All of us.”

You swallowed. Nodded. And returned to your pancakes, even though they didn’t taste quite as sweet anymore.

After breakfast, you’re slipping on your coat when a warm hand wraps gently around your wrist. You turn—and Jinu’s already pulling you into the hallway beside the kitchen, just out of view of the others.

“Jinu?” you ask, heartbeat stuttering. His touch isn’t rough. But it isn’t something you can ignore either. He says nothing for a moment. Just watches you in the soft light. His gaze flickers to your lips, then to your throat, then back to your eyes.

“I heard you wake up around five,” he says, voice low. “Your breathing changed.”

You blink. “You… heard me?”

“I always hear you.” His thumb brushes over your wrist, tender. Like he’s memorizing the pulse there. “Even in my sleep.”

Your cheeks flush, and for a second you look down—but Jinu lifts your chin with two fingers. “You didn’t come out of the room,” he says. “Did the dream scare you?”

You hesitate.

“It’s okay,” he adds, gentler now. “You don’t have to tell me. I just… wanted to see you before you left.”

“I’m fine,” you whisper. “Really.”

His eyes narrow like he doesn’t quite believe you—but he lets it go. For now. “I just needed to know,” he murmurs, stepping closer, “that you didn’t regret last night.”

Your breath catches.

Jinu’s face is barely an inch from yours now. His voice is like velvet wrapped in steel. “Because if you did… I’d find a way to make you forget the regret. I’d replace it with something else.”

You don’t move. Can’t.

His hand cups your cheek, thumb brushing your skin like it’s sacred. “I know I said I’d go slow,” he says, head tilting, “and I will. But when you kissed me—Y/N, I’ve waited four hundred years to feel that again. If you ever change your mind… just know I won’t stop you next time.”

Your heart slams against your ribs. And then—he leans forward. But he doesn’t kiss your lips. His lips graze your forehead, soft, reverent.

A mark. A brand. A promise. When he pulls back, his smile is small—but there’s fire behind it.

“Be careful out there,” Jinu says, brushing a loose hair from your face. “Don’t talk to anyone who looks at you too long.”

You raise a brow. “Is that a threat?”

“No,” he says softly. “It’s a warning. For their sake.” And then he lets you go.

But as you step out the front door, you feel it: his gaze burning into your back like a tether. Like he’s already counting the seconds until you return.

────────── ⚘ ──────────

The morning air nipped at your cheeks as you walked beside Abby down the sleepy Seoul street. The hem of your coat brushed your knees, and your fingers were wrapped tight around the coffee Abby insisted you hold—even if you were about to clock into a café that sold twenty variations of the same drink.

“I still don’t get why you have to work here,” Abby muttered for the third time this morning, tugging the strap of your bag higher on your shoulder like it offended him. “You should be sleeping in. Eating fruit someone peeled for you. Or being worshipped. Like a normal girl.”

You glanced up at him. “A normal girl?”

“Well, a normal soulbound girl. Obviously.”

You snorted. “Not helping your argument.”

He didn’t laugh. Just walked closer, his frame blocking the wind like a personal fortress.

At the café, he waited until you stepped safely inside before crossing his arms and glaring through the glass like the windows were one sneeze away from shattering. You pretended not to notice.

By midmorning, the scent of caramel and burnt espresso clung to your skin, and the line was a manageable trickle. Mystery had popped in an hour ago to leave a pack of honey biscuits on the counter (“In case you didn’t eat enough.”) and Baby had passed by too—not entering, just lingering outside like a ghost in the reflection of the glass. You couldn’t be sure, but you thought he was watching your manager. You tried not to think about it.

Then, of course, there was Romance.

He swept in at 11:47, in sunglasses and smugness, murmuring something about how coffee tastes better when you're watching the love of your life make it. You’d rolled your eyes and told him to sit in the corner and stop causing a scene. He winked and obeyed.

Everything was going smoothly.

Until it wasn’t.

The bell above the café door jingled sharply—and something inside you prickled. The new customer wasn’t odd at first glance: young, tall, dressed like a college student. But there was something off. Something in the way he looked around the café, not like a customer, but like he was searching.

You stiffened. Then he looked directly at you—and smiled. Your stomach dropped.

He walked to the counter, but didn’t order. Just leaned in a little too close. “Y/N, right?” he asked.

You blinked. “Do… do I know you?”

“Nah,” he said. “But I know you. Been seeing your name around. Cute face, too. You’ve got fans, you know.”

Something about his voice scraped at your nerves. You took a small step back. “Sorry, you’ll have to order something if you’re not here to—”

“You smell different than I expected,” he said suddenly, nostrils flaring. “Sweeter. Almost... too sweet.”

Your blood ran cold. He wasn’t human. Before you could say another word, a deep growl split the air. And then Abby was there.

You didn’t see the door open. Didn’t hear him enter.

But suddenly, your coworker was shoved behind the counter, Romance was standing from his corner seat with eyes glowing faintly gold—and Abby had the stranger by the collar, slammed against the nearest wall with a crash that rattled the syrup bottles.

“You have five seconds,” Abby snarled, voice low and rumbling, “to explain why a low-tier, trashborn demon thought it was smart to walk within ten feet of her.”

The stranger choked on his breath, writhing under the hold. “I didn’t—I was just curious—! The scent—she’s—”

“You looked at her,” Abby snapped. “You spoke to her.”

“She doesn’t even know what she is—!” The air changed. Abby’s eyes darkened. Not just with anger. With promise. He leaned in, and his voice was a whisper made of knives.

“Then let me teach you what I am.”

The café was silent. Your coworkers frozen. Romance stepped between you and the others like a shield, hand on your lower back.

“Close your eyes, baby,” he murmured.

“Abby,” you called—panicked now. “Abby, stop.”

And maybe it was your voice that pulled him back. Or maybe it was the fact that the stranger was already whimpering, nose bloodied, eyes wide with terror.

Abby let him go. The demon crashed to the floor, wheezing. “Leave,” Abby said. “Before I finish what I started.”

The demon scrambled, vanished out the door with supernatural speed. And still Abby stood there, fists clenched, chest heaving. His eyes scanned your face. “Are you okay?”

You nodded, throat tight. “Yeah. I think so.”

Romance brushed your hair back, but didn’t smile. “You’re not supposed to be seen. Not like that. Word’s spreading.”

“I’m… sorry,” you mumbled.

Abby looked like he wanted to punch something else. “Not your fault.”

Romance’s jaw tightened. “We’ll talk later.”

But something was clear now. Crystal clear. You weren’t safe. Even here.

And the boys? They’d burn the world to make sure you were.

────────── ⚘ ──────────

The boys don’t notice them, but Huntrix watches.

Perched across the street from the café, tucked behind a rusted bus stop, Zoey chews on her gum like it’s the last sin in Seoul. 

They see it all. Abby bursting into the café without a sound. Romance standing from his seat like a prince with knives in his mouth. Y/N, frozen in confusion and fear, wide-eyed behind the counter.

And then it happens. Abby slams another demon against the wall so hard the menu board rattles. Mira’s hand twitches toward her weapon on instinct—but she doesn’t move.

“She’s… still with them,” Mira says tightly, eyes fixed on the scene.

“Not just with them,” Zoey mutters. “They’re protecting her.”

“No,” Mira says, trying to convince herself. “They’re using her. Shielding their asset.”

Zoey shakes her head, frowning. “Then why did he just attack another demon? That guy wasn’t even hostile. Just sniffing around.”

“She’s human,” Rumi says softly, still watching. “I’ve scanned her three times. She’s not cursed. Not altered. No patterns. She’s… just a girl.”

“So why are five demons orbiting her like she’s the goddamn sun?” Zoey exclaims.

None of them answer.

Inside the café, the tension breaks. The intruder flees. Abby stays between Y/N and the rest of the world like her bodyguard—or her beast. They watch Romance reach for her shoulder. 

They’re not acting. They’re not pretending. This isn’t manipulation. It’s something far more dangerous.

“They care about her,” Rumi says finally. “Or… they think they do.”

Mira scoffs. “Demons don’t care. They hunger. They cling to whatever they’re trying to own.”

Rumi stays silent. But her hands are white-knuckled inside her sleeves, fists clenched so tight they tremble. Because she’s seen something the others haven’t. A memory she wasn’t supposed to find.

Tucked deep in the bottom of a chest meant to stay locked—a yellowed letter, written in ink faded with age and smudged by something darker. She found it years ago, back when she was still trying to piece together who her mother really was. A letter written in a language she’d never been taught, yet somehow… understood.

A demon’s handwriting. The words bled longing. Grief. Worship. She remembered reading the last line over and over: “If I burn for you, let me burn.”

Celine never talked about it. When Rumi asked about her mother, Celine only told her the same thing every time: “She was a hunter. A good one. Until she got too close to what we kill.”

Back then, Rumi believed her. She had to. Celine saved her. Raised her. Trained her. Taught her to never trust a demon’s smile or a monster’s promise. But now…

Now she watches Abby hover by Y/N’s side, tension rippling under his skin every time a customer raises their voice at her. She watches Romance hover near like he’s her loyal shadow. She saw Jinu the other day—calm, regal, protective—glance at the girl like she’s a prayer he’s still waiting to be answered.

It doesn’t make sense. Demons don’t protect humans. Demons don’t get soft eyes and careful hands. Demons don’t love.

Except… maybe they do.

Jinu once told her—in one of their secret meetings, just the two of them, when she let her guard slip for one second—“Demons feel. Some of us wish we didn’t.”

She thought it was a line. Another ploy. But watching him now… watching them… She wonders if it was the truth. And if it is—if demons can really feel like this—then maybe her mother hadn’t been weak. Maybe she hadn’t been tricked. Maybe she’d been in love.

And maybe what terrifies Rumi the most is the look on Y/N’s face when the boys are near. Because it looks like recognition. It looks like longing. It looks… mutual.

And for the first time in her life, Rumi is unsure of everything she was taught to fight for.

────────── ⚘ ──────────

Back at the apartment, the mood was sharp—too sharp.

The moment the front door closed behind you, the air thickened like static before a lightning strike. The boys didn’t say anything at first. They just stared. Watched you kick off your shoes, shrug off your coat. Watched the way your hands shook slightly when you went to pour water into a glass.

Then Romance stepped forward. “You need to quit,” he said.

You blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Your job,” Jinu added, arms crossed. “It’s too dangerous now.”

You laughed, but it came out awkward and dry. “You’re all being dramatic. It wasn’t that serious—Abby handled it. I was fine.”

Abby stiffened beside you, jaw clenched. Jinu’s expression didn’t move.

“It’s the second time,” Mystery said quietly from the corner, curled on the windowsill. Your stomach dropped. “What?”

“Two days ago,” Baby murmured, arms folded and expression unreadable. “There was demon scent on the café’s back door. We didn't tell you. We thought it was just a scout.”

“I confirmed it,” Jinu said. “He was watching you. You never saw him.”

Romance’s eyes darkened, gold flickering like candlelight. “And now one tries to make contact in broad daylight. You think that’s nothing?”

You looked between them, suddenly very, very aware of how much you hadn’t been told.

“You’re not safe there,” Jinu said firmly. “Not when we can’t be around every second.”

You bristled. “Okay, but you are around. Literally all the time. I feel like I’ve got an army shadowing me every shift—”

“Because you do,” Baby said bluntly. “And it’s still not enough.”

You blink at him. “So I just… give up my life?”

Romance softens instantly, like he’s pulling back on a leash. “What he means is—we don’t want to see anything happen to you. That café’s a risk. You’re vulnerable there. You don’t need to be.”

You hesitate. And then—click—your mind makes a connection. Their protectiveness. Their control. And something that never quite sat right with you.

You lift your eyes. “...What happened to Jae?”

The question silences the room. Romance doesn’t miss a beat. He smiles gently. “Ah. The guy from the club?”

“Yeah,” you say. “He was weird, but you didn’t have to—what did you even do to him?”

“Nothing permanent,” Romance says smoothly.

Your gaze sharpens. “Romance.”

He smiles too easily, all charm and warmth stretched over something colder. “I offered him a very friendly warning. Abby may have been more… direct.”

You narrow your eyes. “Is he okay?”

Romance tilts his head, fake-thinking. “He probably won’t remember anything. A touch of glamour and a sprained wrist. Maybe a dislocated ego.”

You stare harder. “That’s not funny.”

“But it’s true,” he counters, smile curling. “And effective. He won’t bother you again.”

There’s a glint in his eye—something too smooth, too polished. Manipulation wrapped in silk.

“You’re lying,” you murmur. The air shifts.

“I told you,” Abby growls, stepping forward. “He touched you.” 

You glance at his clenched fists. “What did you do to him?”

“He doesn’t matter,” Abby says flatly. “He was going to hurt you. I saw it. I felt it.”

“That’s not your call to make!”

“Everything about you is my call,” he growls. “Because I’ll do what you won’t. I’ll cross the lines. So you don’t have to.”

Your breath catches. You suddenly realize how close Abby is and the intensity of his stare.

“Okay,” Jinu says tightly. “Enough.”

Romance straightens his collar. “Let Abby calm her down. She’s overwhelmed.”

Jinu doesn’t argue. He just nods once at Abby and you sigh, letting Abby’s large frame usher you to your room. You wanted to have a word with him in private anyways.

Once the door was firmly shut, the four shared a knowing look with each other in the livingroom. 

“She won’t quit on her own,” Romance says.

Jinu doesn’t respond. He’s staring out the window, pensive.

“She thinks it’s her choice. That’s adorable,” Romance continues with a bitter smile. “But this situation—it’s pulling demons to her like flies. They’ve always been curious, but now that they know where she is and that she’s real.” Romance sneers. “Their curiosity is going to kill them. And every one of them is a threat.”

Mystery’s eyes narrow. “You want to scare her.”

“No,” Romance says smoothly. “I want to guide her. Nudge her toward the life she deserves. One where she’s surrounded by people who love her more than air.”

“And you’ll decide how that looks?” Jinu’s voice is quiet. Dangerous.

Romance’s expression darkens just slightly. “You saw her a minute ago. She’s already cracking. All I’m doing is accelerating the inevitable.”

Baby finally speaks, voice a low echo: “What do you want us to do?”

Romance’s smile returns—cold and wicked. “Nothing direct. Just… let the pieces fall. Let the café fall apart.”

Jinu sighs and turns. “No fire.”

“No blood,” Mystery adds. “She wouldn’t like that.”

Romance raises a hand, smug. “Of course not. I’m not stupid. She’ll leave on her own. And when she does…” His gaze sharpens. “She’ll see that we’re the only constant.”

────────── ⚘ ──────────

Abby shuts the bedroom door behind him. Not with a slam—but with finality. 

You don’t resist when he gently guides you toward the bed. He doesn’t say much at first. Just pulls you into his arms, into the warmth of his chest like it’s instinct. You don’t know if he means to, but his grip is tight. Fierce. His hand curls around the back of your head, like he’s afraid you’ll vanish if he blinks too long.

“I don’t want to fight with you,” he mutters.

“I know,” you whisper. You gaze at his arms that were wrapped tightly around you- the ones he’d use to inflict whatever violence necessary for your sake. Your eyes trail up his muscled limbs to his broad shoulders. There was a moment of silence before you spoke. 

“I don’t get it,” you whisper. “Why are you like this?”

“Like what?”

“This…” You wave your hand vaguely. “Overprotective. Overbearing. Intense. It’s like you can’t breathe unless I’m under lock and key.”

“I can’t,” he says. Your heart skips. His voice is quiet. No teasing. No growl. Just truth. “I can’t breathe when you’re not safe.”

You stare at him.

“I don’t know how to do this slow,” Abby says. “I try, I swear I do. Jinu says wait. Mystery whines when I get too close. Baby glares like he’ll gut me if I scare you. But I see you, and all I wanna do is keep you close. Wrap you in my arms and keep every bad thing away. Rip this world apart if it even thinks of touching you.”

You don’t know what to say, so he keeps going. 

“I wasn't always like this. Wasn’t always... this thing you see now.”

You shift slightly in his arms, but his hold keeps you anchored. He exhales sharply and looks away. Not because he’s ashamed—because the memory still burns. Your heart tugs at the expression on his beautiful face. Tortured. Pained.

“Two hundred fifty years ago,” he begins, “I was a general. Loyal to the court. Feared on the battlefield. A war dog for men in silk robes who never dirtied their hands.” You feel his fingers twitch against your back, like he’s gripping a blade only he can see.

“I bled for them. Killed for them. And the moment I became inconvenient, they left me to die in the mud. A spear through my gut. My men gone. My name forgotten.” His jaw tightens. You can hear the snarl he’s holding back.

“I would’ve died. But I begged. Not to the heavens—because the heavens never answered me. I begged whatever thing was listening in the dark.” He turns his face, voice like ash. “And Gwi Ma answered.” He’s silent for a beat. Your breath catches.

“I didn’t die,” he says bitterly. “But I wasn’t human anymore either.” You feel his body tense beneath you as he continues, slower this time. “I wandered. Fed on pain. Destroyed anything that looked like mercy. Until I collapsed outside a village. Thought maybe I’d die for real.”

He goes still. “And then you found me.”

Your heart stutters. His voice goes softer. Fragile, like something made of glass. “You were a healer. Young. Too good. Too gentle. You knew I wasn’t right. You saw the glow in my eyes, felt the heat in my skin—but you stayed anyway.”

Your throat tightens. “You stitched my wounds. You made me soup. You made me laugh. And I didn’t even remember how.”

His voice breaks. “You reminded me I used to be human. I think… you made me want to be one again.”

You say nothing. Just hold onto him tighter and let him tell you the story of how he came to be this way. You wished you remembered- like last night with Jinu. You wished you could share his pain.

“When bandits came, I snapped. I didn’t even think. I just—protected you. The village. Everyone.” A pause. “But I lost control. The fire… it spread.”

Your blood goes cold.

“You died in my arms, Y/N. Crying. You told me you weren’t afraid. That you knew I tried to protect you.” He swallows. “But that doesn’t matter. Because I still killed you.”

You feel his hand press flat against your back like he could memorize the shape of you all over again. He tilts his forehead to yours, voice raw and trembling. 

“I’d die a thousand times before I ever let that happen again.” Abby’s voice is barely a whisper. “And so I’m sorry… if you think I’m too much. I just—” He swallows hard, jaw trembling. “I can’t bear the thought of failing you again. Of standing by while the world takes you from me a second time.”

His hand moves to your cheek, thumb brushing under your eye like he’s memorizing every freckle, every blink. “I’ve spent centuries reliving that moment,” he murmurs. “Centuries regretting every second I didn’t hold you tighter. Protect you harder. Love you more.”

You feel the weight in his touch—the devotion that borders on madness. He’s looking at you like you’re the only thing anchoring him to the world.

And maybe you are.

His arms are still wrapped around you. His heartbeat loud against your ear. You feel his chest rise and fall—deep, like he’s trying to calm a storm. There’s a long silence before he speaks again, voice low against your hair.

“…There’s something I want you to know,” he murmurs. “My name. My real one. From before.”

You lift your head, eyes searching his. He looks almost… shy. No—vulnerable. Like this is the final part of himself he’s never dared to offer.

“I wasn’t always ‘Abby.’ That’s just a stage name. I find it kind of funny actually” He chuckles lightly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. 

You nod gently, your hand resting against his bare chest. “So tell me,” you whisper.

He swallows. “It was Haneul,” he says. “That was my name, when I was still human.”

Haneul. The sound lingers on your tongue like silk and smoke. You let it roll in your mouth before saying it aloud:

“…Haneul.”

He shudders.

It’s so soft, the reaction—so raw. His grip tightens around you instinctively. His lips part like you just breathed life into him. “Say it again,” he whispers. “Please. Say it again.”

You lean in, brushing your lips to his cheek. “Haneul.”

A sharp breath escapes him. His eyes flutter shut, lashes trembling. You kiss the corner of his eye, your voice barely audible.

“Haneul.”

He exhales like he’s unraveling, hands fisting into your waist to keep himself steady. To keep you close. Like the name is both breaking him and putting him back together.

You kiss the other cheek, so softly he nearly flinches from how much it hurts. “Haneul.”

And then—just before your lips meet his—you say it again. For him. Only him.  

“Haneul.”

He snaps.

Abby—Haneul—surges forward and devours you in a kiss. It’s not gentle. It’s not tame. It’s a claiming, centuries in the making. His mouth slants over yours with aching hunger, hands pulling you into his lap like you belong there, like you’ve always belonged there.

You do.

And he kisses you like your voice saying his name was the only salvation left in the world. And maybe… maybe it was. He groans against your mouth, like the feel of you hurts.

His hands tremble as they cradle your face, your neck, your back—as if he still doesn’t believe you’re real. You feel his restraint—barely holding himself back, like if he slips for even a second, he’ll ruin everything. But it’s all so gentle. Worshipful. Like he’s afraid you’ll vanish if he loves you too hard.

His shirt comes off in a rush of movement, as if it was the last thing keeping him distant. You press your palms to his bare chest—warm, solid, steady—and he shudders beneath your touch.

He lowers you both to the bed again, but this time you’re tangled together. Your legs brush. His skin grazes yours and he gasps like it burns in the best way.

He leans in, lips brushing your throat. He murmurs your name there like a prayer. Like a curse. Like a lifeline.

“I’ll never let anyone touch you,” he whispers, breath hot. “I don’t care who I have to kill. I don’t care if the world calls me a monster. If it means keeping you safe, I’ll be all of it.”

You feel your heart trip over itself. It should scare you. But it doesn’t. Because when he looks at you, when he touches you like this… it doesn’t feel like obsession. It feels like truth.

Your fingers slide into his hair, clutching like he’s the only thing holding you together. He leans into your touch like he’s starving for it.

“Say you forgive me,” he chokes. “Say I’m not too late.”

You meet his gaze—and it’s everything. Burning. Desperate. Holy. And so full of ruinous love it steals the air from your lungs.

“You’re not too late,” you whisper, voice cracking. “I’m here.”

And Abby—no, Haneul.

Haneul lets out a sound you’ve never heard from him before. A small, broken thing. A sob and a breath all at once. Then he kisses you again—deeper, slower, like the world’s ending and this is the only moment that matters. His hands press into your waist like he’s grounding himself there. Like you are his redemption. His punishment. His salvation. And for the first time in centuries… Haneul lets himself believe he might deserve to hold you again.

Your fingers ghost over his chest, and he shivers. The planes of his body are carved like stone beneath your hands, warm and trembling under your touch—as if you’re something sacred, something he never thought he’d feel again.

Your lips part from his only to trail down the sharp line of his jaw, to the tense muscle of his neck. You kiss him softly there, and he lets out a hiss through his teeth. It’s the kind of sound that curls heat through your spine. You don’t stop. You kiss lower, slow and reverent, letting your lips brush the warm skin of his throat. He tips his head back, helpless.

“Haneul,” you murmur, pressing your lips to his collarbone.

He groans. His entire body bows toward you like he’s being pulled by gravity. Like your voice is the only anchor in a world he no longer trusts. You trail your hands down the ridges of his chest, the faint scars of old wounds hidden beneath his skin. He watches you, eyes wild with devotion. 

“I dreamed of your hands,” he whispers hoarsely. “I used to wake up clawing at my own skin because I missed the way you touched me.”

You kiss the center of his chest and feel his heart stutter beneath your lips. His hands slide beneath your shirt now, palms warm, reverent as they explore your waist like he’s memorizing the shape of you. He ducks his head to your neck, brushes his lips down the slope of it—and then kisses the spot where your pulse flutters.

You gasp. And that’s all it takes.

A low growl tears from his throat and he bites—not hard, but enough to claim. Enough to make you gasp again, and this time his name spills from your lips like it’s the only thing you know.

His breath is ragged now, and his control is slipping. “Say it again,” he begs, lips against your throat. “Just once more.”

“Haneul,” you moan, and the way he shudders beneath you is almost violent. You feel the darkness curling at the edge of him—the demon just beneath the surface, the possessive, desperate thing that would burn kingdoms for you. But he holds it back.

His forehead presses to yours. Your breath mingles. Your chests rise and fall in perfect sync. His thumb brushes along your cheek as he cradles you like you’re made of glass and starlight.

His voice is low. Gravel and longing. “I’ll wait,” he breathes, fingers curling possessively around your waist. “As long as you need. But don’t think for a second I won’t claim you. One way or another, you’re mine.”

You stare at him. At the burn in his eyes. The way his body shakes beneath your touch—not from fear, but from restraint. Centuries of guilt. Of hunger. Of aching to be close and never having the right.

“I do want you,” you whisper, lips brushing his. “Just… not all at once.”

His eyes flutter shut. His jaw clenches like he’s holding back something feral. “Then I’ll take what you give,” he murmurs, lips brushing your temple. “And I’ll make you crave the rest.”

He kisses your cheek. Then the corner of your mouth. Then rests his forehead to yours—your breath, your warmth, your heartbeat the only thing grounding him. And in that silence, in the hush of your skin against his, you feel the bond ignite again—hotter now, needier. A thread wrapped around your ribs, pulling tighter. Claiming.

No more running. Not from him. Not from this.

Just you. In his lap. In his arms.

Exactly where he’s always known you belong.

TO BE CONTINUED

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A/N: Huahh Abby or (Haneul) got his turn! I wanted to give them each real names and not just stage names. I chose Haneul for Abby because it means “sky” or “heaven.” It’s poetic, gentle, and deeply symbolic. It's meant to tie into Abby’s protector nature — someone who once soared high as a general but fell and now claws his way back for the one he loves. His love is vast, all-encompassing, eternal — like the sky. And there’s an irony too: he fell from grace (heaven to hell), yet his name remains a tether to what he once was.

Let me know if you guys enjoyed this one! Comments, Likes, Reposts, I see them all and really appreciate all the support! Till Next Time!

Willa x.

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[kikyoupdates]

Otherworldly Attraction ⭑˚🔮⭑ 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑙𝑜𝑔𝑢𝑒

yandere!jjk x f!reader

yandere, reverse harem, isekai, jujutsu kaisen x fem!reader, slowburn, slowburn yandere

You don't know how or why, but you've been isekai'd into the world of Jujutsu Kaisen. Although your first instinct is to stay away from the plot, you've been blessed with an abnormal amount of cursed energy, and for better or worse, you find yourself sucked into the storyline. You decide that you may as well use your newfound powers for the greater good, and if you're lucky, you might succeed in rewriting some of the characters' fates. But it turns out that your presence in this world is an even bigger deal than you first thought, and soon, everyone wants to make you theirs.

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What the actual fuck.

You blink, absolutely dumbfounded. There’s some kind of grotesque, insect-like creature in front of you, buzzing obnoxiously as it flaps its wings. It bears the appearance of a fly, at least somewhat, but it’s much bigger than a normal fly, and its face looks like it came straight out of a low-budget horror movie. 

The point is, it’s not normal. It's not the kind of thing you’ve ever seen before. At the very least, not in real life. 

And yet, you’re the only one who seems to notice it.

“...I keep telling you, it’s weird,” a girl mumbles, scratching her neck impatiently. “I can’t get rid of it. There’s this chill that follows me around no matter where I go, and my shoulders feel weirdly heavy lately. I even went to a chiropractor to see if it would help. I feel so gross these days.” 

The fly-like creature is hovering closely above the girl, a disturbing smile plastered across its already unattractive face. It’s literally right next to her, and not only her, but the other girls that are gathered around. They’re all just talking like nothing’s even going on. Completely blind to the abnormal presence that lurks nearby. 

You’re the only one who can see that yucky-looking thing. How does that make any sense? How is it even possible for something like that to exist in real life? 

Actually… where are you right now? 

Once again, you blink. Something utterly strange is happening. The last thing you remember is going to bed, in your perfectly ordinary bedroom, so how in the world did you wake up in the middle of what appears to be a field? 

You’re at a school, by the looks of things. But certainly not the school you’re used to attending. It seems like you’re even wearing some unfamiliar uniform, and it would make sense for this to be a dream, but by all accounts, it’s way too realistic. 

Pinching your cheek doesn’t help. The scenery refuses to change, and sure enough, the creature is still hanging above that girl. It even lets out a shrill, high-pitched laugh (which she of course doesn’t hear), almost as if it’s taunting her.

You’re not sure what you should be doing right now. This is all one hell of a mindfuck, if you’re being honest. But that creature can’t be good news, and even though you’re admittedly pretty scared, it seems like you’re the only one who can see it. You’re the only one who even realizes it’s here. 

Swallowing your apprehension, you take a deep breath and approach. 

“Excuse me…?”

You call out to the group of girls. There’s no easy way to break this to them. How do you bring up the fact that there’s some weird creature in the vicinity? If they can’t see it, there’s no reason they’ll even believe you. They’ll probably just think you’re crazy or something. 

As it so happens, though, you aren’t required to recount some absurd, seemingly nonsensical tale. 

You’ve barely taken two steps forward when all of a sudden, the creature sharply turns its head in your direction. 

And then it screams. 

Just like its laugh, the sound is high-pitched and wholly unpleasant. You’re not even sure what prompted that kind of reaction, since it seemed pretty chill up until this point, but now, it’s trembling like a leaf in the wind. 

You’re worried that you might have triggered it somehow, and that it’s going to attack you, but that doesn’t happen either. It turns out that the scream it just let out wasn’t one of aggression, but rather, fear. 

So, it flies off before you can get any closer, and the girl who was complaining until just a few moments ago suddenly blinks, expression brightening.

“Whoa, wait,” she mumbles in disbelief. “It’s… it’s gone. I think I feel better now. No way. It’s actually gone! I thought it would never end!”

“Are you sure it wasn’t just all in your head?” one of the other girls frowns, visibly unconvinced. She then turns towards you. “Oh. Sorry, were you talking to us just now? I didn’t really hear what you said.” 

“Uh.” 

You’re not sure what to say. The whole reason you came over was so you could warn them about that weird creature, but it disappeared in the blink of an eye. It screamed right as it saw your face—which is kind of offensive, honestly—and then it flew off like no one’s business. 

A bit hesitant, you try asking, “Sorry if this sounds weird, but where are we right now?” 

Now it’s their turn to look dumbfounded. You can only imagine how visceral their reaction would have been if you’d actually brought up the weird fly creature. 

“What do you mean where are we? We’re… at school, where else?” 

The girl gestures all around her, as if it should be obvious. Granted, you deduced as much, but that wasn’t really what you were asking. All of this is just so ridiculous. How in the world does a person manage to go to sleep in their own room and wake up someplace they’ve never been before?

The group decides to walk away, probably because you weirded them out with your stupid question, and you can even hear them whispering amongst themselves. 

“Why’d she even ask that all of a sudden…?” 

“I don’t know. She transferred here just recently, right? Maybe she’s still getting used to things. It was kind of weird, though.” 

They keep talking about it as they leave, probably not realizing you can still hear them. Whatever. You’ve got bigger fish to fry right now. As things stand, you woke up god-knows-where, and you just saw some freakish creature a second ago, so you’re starting to worry that you might be going insane. 

The only explanation is that this has to be some kind of dream. A lucid dream, perhaps? That’s what they call these kinds of things, right?

This is way too freaky, though. Can I make myself wake up? I really don’t like this. It gives me the creeps. 

You desperately try to force yourself awake, but regretfully, it doesn’t work. And you’re not even given much time to speculate on the issue any further. 

A soccer ball comes flying at you and hits you right in the face.

It hurts. It hurts like fucking hell. In fact, it hurts so much that you’re knocked flat onto your back, groaning as you cradle your poor nose, which feels like it’s just been split open. 

“...holy shit, are you okay?!” 

You can hear a student running towards you, but since you’re lying on your back convinced you’re about to die, you don’t pay it much mind. The immense amount of pain you’re feeling is absurd. Even for a lucid dream, isn’t this too much?

However, things are only about to get weirder. 

Like way, way weirder. 

“I’m so sorry!” the same student apologizes. It’s a boy, by the sounds of it, and you hear him drop to his knees beside you. “I swear I wasn’t even trying to kick the ball that hard! I barely even used any force!”

From afar, another student chimes in. “Even when you hold back, you’re way too strong, Itadori! Is she dead? You killed her, didn’t you?”

Did he just say… Itadori? 

For just a moment, the pain subsides, and clarity overtakes your features. You manage to squint your eyes open and find a boy staring down at you. A boy with bright brown eyes, and spiky pink hair styled in an undercut. 

A boy that you’ve most definitely seen before. 

Your jaw drops open. There’s just no way. This is… Itadori Yuji? The protagonist of Jujutsu Kaisen? A fictional series, which, by definition, means he doesn’t actually exist? 

Yet here he is, fussing over you and looking immeasurably guilty for having just kicked a soccer ball in your face. And even though you keep trying to tell yourself that this is a dream, it’s getting harder and harder to deny. The sensations you feel—the pain, the confusion, and the excited fluttering in your chest—are impossible to ignore.

It all makes sense now. That weird creature you saw earlier was a cursed spirit. That explains why those girls didn’t even notice it. Ordinary humans normally can’t perceive curses. Most of the time, they’re completely unaware of their existence.

You realize how utterly absurd this is. People don’t just wake up and find themselves sucked into their favorite anime. No matter how badly some fans might wish for it, this kind of thing just doesn’t happen.

Or at least, it’s not supposed to.

“Wait, your—your nose is bleeding!” Itadori exclaims. “I need to get you to the infirmary! Can you walk? Or should I carry you?” 

He appears frantic, which of course he is, since he’s a good guy. He’s the kind of guy who always cares about others. A guy with a big heart, a friendly demeanor, and a penchant for justice. Truly, the perfect protagonist. 

…so, is this seriously happening right now?

“I-I’m fine,” you try to insist. “I just… need a moment. And then I’ll be okay.” 

Itadori seems entirely unconvinced, so you suspect your nose is probably bleeding even more than you fear. Right now, you honestly couldn’t care less, though. Your heart is pounding relentlessly. The excitement and awe you feel can’t even be put into words.

“I’ll take you to the infirmary,” Itadori says again. He resists the urge to outright pick you up into his arms, and after a moment’s pause, he offers you his hand instead. “Here. Try standing up. If not, I’ll carry you there, okay?” 

It’s difficult just to form a response. You’re overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of his presence. The fact that you’re face to face with someone you never thought you’d be able to see in person, let alone speak to. 

But even if it seems hard to believe, even if it makes you want to question your sanity, this is real. This is actually happening. 

And so, you take his hand—changing the course of your life as you know it. 

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[heartyluv]

Note: My first time writing something like this…I had so much fun, I can’t even begin to explain LOLLL. Didn’t even expect to get this done today, but once I started, I couldn’t stop. I’m gonna try to tweak any errors over time, so if there’s any, just give me some grace. Enjoy, my luvlys!

~ Creds to @/omi-resources, @/anitalenia & @/dollywons for the dividers! ~

Rating: Explicit - !!Minors DO NO Interact!!

Warning: Smut, MMF Reverse Harem (You, Zayne, and Caleb are in an established relationship togetherrrr), Breeding Kink, You’re hanging from the ceiling while they put in the work, Caleb and Zayne ARE KISSING and their cocks DO TOUCH!!!

Word Count: 4,066 (forgive me)

Summary: You believe that your boyfriends have forgotten your first anniversary, causing you to feel hurt and angry. But, you’re in for a special treat when you find that they didn’t.

Caleb/Zayne/Reader

Your eyes flutter open slowly and your inability to move is the always the first thing that puts a smile on your face. Behind you, Caleb holds you tight with a strong arm wrapped around your waist and his steady breath glides gently against the back of your neck. In front of you lays Zayne’s perfect and sleeping face, his expression calm and peaceful. His legs are entangled in yours and you wonder how anyone could go through life without having something so precious.

You’re not surprised that you’ve woken up before Zayne. Your body seems to be on a time clock because somehow, you manage to get up a few minutes before his alarm goes off, so you always greet him good morning. A few minutes pass and as anticipated, the alarm blares and Zayne’s beautiful eyes look into yours. He smiles softly, reaching behind him to grab his phone and shuts the alarm off. He huffs out a breath before looking back at you.

“Good morning,” you whisper.

“Good morning, love,” he answers sleepily. He presses a kiss to your nose and gets up to start getting ready for work at the hospital.

He didn’t say it. Maybe he needs a minute, you think.

When Zayne starts getting ready, you fall asleep again, but it’s typically only for another thirty minutes. When you wake up again, Caleb is gone too this time.

This is usually how mornings go for you guys. You’re up first, Zayne’s next so that he can get ready, you fall back asleep, and Caleb is eventually up and cooking breakfast. It’s always the smell of the tasty food he cooks that stirs you awake.

After you use the bathroom connected to your bedroom, you go back to your Alaskan King bed and fix the blankets and pillows. It’s warmer as summer approaches, so the AC is on and bathes the room in a comfortable chill temperature. In a tank top and some shorts, you make your way down the hallway to find your men already conversing and laughing quietly, still thinking you’re asleep.

Caleb’s strong back is on display as black sweatpants hang low on his hips while he cooks. Zayne is sitting at the island, presumably having a cup of coffee since you can smell the strong aroma. He’s in his classic white button up dress shirt and black slacks with his doctor’s coat hanging by the door, ready when he is.

You walk up to Zayne first, placing a hand on his shoulder. He looks over at you and you lean down to kiss his lips, something he believes gives him more energy than any cup of coffee.

You walk up to Caleb next and kiss his back, making him turn around and grin widely at you. You look down at the turkey bacon he’s cooking, feeling your belly rumble with hunger.

“Good morning, baby,” Caleb greets, removing himself from the stove to cup your face in his hand. He kisses you tenderly, mixing in just a little tongue as your hand rests on his jaw, feeling the soft strands of his hair tickling your fingers.

“Enjoying the show?” you playfully say to Zayne when you see how he looks between you two.

“I always do.”

“Hungry?” Caleb asks before flipping the bacon and getting more bread to make toast to pair with the omelette he’s already preparing.

“Starving,” you groan.

As the morning progressed and you’re all sitting down at the island, you feel your heart ache as no one brings up the fact that it’s your first anniversary. You could’ve, but you wanted to see if they remembered. It’s been a year since you three decided to be with each other instead of making anyone have to choose. You all loved one another dearly and would do anything to keep a smile on each other’s face.

You remember the day they both came to you and confessed that they’ve been in love with you for so long. It made your heart flutter with both adoration and nerves because you felt the same, but you couldn’t choose. You didn’t want to. But they eased all that worry when they told you that they felt the same way about each other. You knew in that very moment, you three were meant to be together for eternity.

You believe that growing up together and being such a concrete part of such pivotal points in one another’s life made this outcome inevitable. You never thought it would have turned out the way it did, but you couldn’t ask for a more perfect relationship.

Right now though, it’s bothering you more than you thought, that neither of your men seem to remember the date you gained the family you’ve always had with a changed dynamic that has altered your life for the better.

“What time will you be home, Zayne?” Caleb asks as he bites his toast.

“I’m supposed to be leaving the hospital at 9:30 tonight, but I’m hoping I can leave earlier if everything goes as planned.”

Your eyebrows furrow. He’s going to be gone all day?

You don’t participate in the conversation, cutting into your omelette, but you’re not even hungry anymore. Beside you, Zayne’s rubs his hand down your back. You try to fix your face to mask your emotions, throwing on a smile that holds no happiness right now.

“I know you hate when I come home late. I’ll try my best to get home in time for dinner. I promise.”

You swallow the burning sensation in your throat. You can’t believe that you want to cry, but you can’t help it.

Clearing your throat, you answer. “It’s okay. I understand.”

“I have a few meetings to attend and some paperwork to get done, so I should be back by 5:00, baby. We can watch a movie until Zayne gives us an update.”

“Sounds good,” you respond to Caleb, drinking your orange juice to hide your face because the more they talk about what you don’t want to hear, the harder it is to hide your hurt.

Did it not matter to them as much as it does you? Were you being dramatic? Should you say something?

Instead, you force yourself to shake it off. When everyone is finished eating, you prep the dishes to be washed. Zayne walks up behind you, bracing his hands on the counter to block you in. He kisses your neck, pressing into you softly. You hum, accepting that no matter what you’re feeling, he and Caleb will always be your happy place. Even if what they’re unintentionally doing right now is actively breaking your heart.

“I’m heading out. Call me if you need me, okay?”

“Okay,” you whisper. He gives the side of your neck one more kiss and tells you he loves you. You then turn to watch him walk to Caleb. You can’t help but smile to yourself when they give each other a quick kiss goodbye before Zayne grabs his bag and keys.

Once he leaves, Caleb goes to get ready himself as you clean the kitchen and only when you hear him in the shower do you let yourself cry. It’s not much, you don’t want to make your eyes puffy and red so he’ll question you and refuse to leave. But you let a few tears fall while you finish putting everything back in order.

Once you collect yourself, Caleb is out the shower and dressed for the day shortly after. He finds you in the bathroom getting ready to do your skincare, pulling you to him before you start. His hands glide down your back and takes hold of your ass firmly. He plants four quick kisses to your lips and rubs his nose against yours.

“Don’t hesitate to reach out for anything. Have a good day, okay? I love you.”

Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Not again, you scold yourself.

As Caleb holds you tight, you kiss him once more for a little bit longer. “I will. Make sure you take care of yourself today, too.”

“Always do,” he assures. Once he pulls away and you hear the front door lock and shut, you try to keep your tears at bay by distracting yourself with music and your routine so you can get out the door. It’s Friday and you don’t have work, but you planned on running some errands. Based on Caleb and Zayne’s lack of acknowledgment for how special today is, maybe you’ll find a way to stay out of the house longer.

The guys have been blowing up your phone when you wouldn’t answer their phone calls. It started when you were in the supermarket and Zayne called, but you didn’t respond and sent him a quick text that said, “Sorry. Am busy.”

He was understanding, saying okay and to call him when you had a minute. You never did.

Then Caleb called you about an hour later and texted you when you wouldn’t answer saying, “Hey, pretty. Zayne says you’re not answering. Everything okay? Call me.”

You never did.

And the guilt you felt at first slowly turned into more sadness. Neither of them remembered, neither of them were even home for you to spend time with them today and it’s because they didn’t fucking remember.

Your phone knew zero peace all day. They were blowing it up with texts, calls, and concerns. You busied yourself as best you could after you brought the groceries back home, doing things like going out for lunch, to the bookstore, and you even took yourself to see a movie. You were set on avoiding home that much.

It was when it turned 8:17 in the evening that you finally approach your front door. You saw Zayne and Caleb’s cars out front, so you know they were home and that only made your body tense with uncertainty.

Your key couldn’t even touch the lock before the door was flung open. There stood Caleb. An angry Caleb and beside him, a still angry but calmer Zayne.

You were surprised no one came after you at your lack of answering, knowing that you all shared your location with each other. After their continued calls and messages, you ended up shutting your phone off at some point and you haven’t looked at it since before you got out your car to come inside.

“Where the hell have you been?” Caleb snaps.

“Running some errands,” you say simply, trying to push past them to get inside, but they promptly block you.

“Is there a reason why you wouldn’t answer your phone?” Zayne questions, his voice sterner than usual.

“It died.”

The two men looked at you and each other, knowing you were lying through your teeth.

“Can I come in now?”

They don’t say anything simply moving to the side. You step up the small step to walk inside, and your heart stops. Your breath is pulled from your body when you see the scene in front of you.

A large pink banner that says Happy Anniversary with matching balloons and streamers adorn your kitchen with a large feast of your favorite foods laying out across the counter. Presents and gift bags are on a small table in the living room and…are those chains hanging from the ceiling?

The door being shut pulls you out of your thoughts. You feel the warmth of their presence behind you and the automatic regret fills your body.

“I thought—”

“That we forgot?” Caleb interjects. “We’d never forget the day you accepted both of us, accepted this,” he gestures to all of you, referring to your relationship.

“Neither of us actually had to work today,” Zayne speaks. “Once we saw that you left on the camera again after going to the grocery store, we knew it was safe to set everything up. But then you wouldn’t answer your phone when we finished.”

“And we knew you were upset. I saw it the moment you started eating breakfast. It was a risk lying to you, pretending we didn’t remember something so important, but had we know you’d do this, we would’ve never done it this way.”

“Really surprising you was our intention.” Zayne sees the tears gathering in your eyes and he catches the stray that falls with his thumb, wiping it off your soft face. “I knew you ignoring us was your anger, because you never do that. It’s why Caleb didn’t follow you to the store as soon as you ignored his first phone call.”

You huff out a laugh, knowing that had Caleb had it his way, you would’ve been over his shoulder and in the car before you could even ask him what he was doing here.

You drop your bag to the floor and wrap them both in a hug as best as you can. Your eyes can’t stop staring at everything they’ve surprised you with. Even if you knew you had every right to be angry since it seemed like they forgot, the reality is they didn’t, and ignoring them like that, potentially making them worry even if they had? That wasn’t cool.

“Happy Anniversary, baby,” Caleb adds.

“Happy Anniversary,” Zayne whispers before kissing the side of your head.

“Happy Anniversary,” you finally speak again. “Thank you. So much. I’m so sorry.”

“So are we.” Once they pull back, Zayne picks up your bag to put on the rack. It’s silent while you really pay attention to your home and you frown when you see your couch is missing where the chains are dangling.

“Part of your surprise,” Caleb answers without you needing to ask. “But seeing as you ignored us all day and dinner is cold now, I think it’s best to punish you a little bit, princess. Don’t you agree?”

“What?” you say with wide eyes.

“Do you trust us?”

“Of course I do.”

“Then,” Caleb walks over to the chains, pulling a key from out the end table drawer and unclamping what looks to be cuffs on the ends of both. “Take your clothes off.”

You stand in your living room naked, watching how Zayne clicks the cuffs into place around your wrists, making your arms rest comfortably above your head. Your chest rises and falls with excitement and anxiety, unsure of what’s about to happen.

After he checks them to make sure they’re just right, he walks toward Caleb who’s standing in front of you with his hands in the pockets of the same sweatpants he wore this morning. Zayne’s in his own dark grey pair, adorning a white shirt where Caleb’s chest is bare.

“How did you hook chains into the ceiling?” you question. “And where’s the couch? What are you about to do to me?”

Their eyes rake over your body while you press your thighs together when their gaze focuses on your pussy.

“She has a lot of questions, doesn’t she?” Caleb nudges Zayne.

The sight of Zayne removing his wire rimmed glasses and throwing them on the TV console behind him makes your body hot. He’s always careful with his things, yet the action alone is far from that and the look in his eyes is so primal.

You watch as they turn to each other and you gasp when they start devouring each other’s mouth. Their sharp jaws move in tandem as their lips navigate the other’s so seamlessly. Instantly, your pussy pulses.

Caleb yanks Zayne’s shirt over his head, throwing it to the floor and attacking his neck next as their clothed cocks push against each other, straining beneath their restrictions. Zayne moans softly as Caleb’s tongues traces the places he sucks hard. The chains rattle above you as your impatience and desperation grows.

Caleb reaches inside of Zayne’s pants and the silhouette of him stroking him makes you whimper, feeling the discomfort in between your legs from wanting to be touched too.

“Off.” Zayne mutters the single word and that’s the only word Caleb needs to act. He and Zayne are brief in their separation to pull their pants and boxers off. Their strong bodies press against each other again and your jaw hangs open as you watch their cocks glide against one another, watching just the smallest amount of precum from the both of them mix and leak across their lengths.

Their kiss is heated, tongues dancing and cocks stimulating one another while you stand there untouched with raised arms and an aching cunt.

Zayne starts to stroke Caleb now, taking his cock and letting his sensitive tip bump into his own, forcing a guttural groan from them both. They hump standing up and you wish that you were in the middle of it all. The erotic sight of them grinding their cocks together and dirtying themselves with precum is an experience you never get tired of witnessing.

“Please…” you whimper, unable to sit still and quiet for any longer. Caleb smirks against Zayne’s mouth as they make out in your face, making you wish that you could have a taste.

Zayne’s smile is lazy as he looks at you while Caleb nips at his strong and thick neck, all while he slowly continues to move his hips so that the pleasure never ceases. “Whose cock do you want first, love?”

You shake your head. “It doesn’t matter. Please just fuck me,” you beg desperately. Even your voice cracks with how badly you need to be filled right now. “I’m sorry for ignoring you. I’m so sorry..”

“Ahh, are you? I wonder how sorry you really are,” Caleb coos. “How soaked is that pussy, hm?” he teases, finally pulling from Zayne. They both breathe deeply and you stare at Caleb as he walks your way. Zayne disappears behind you, making your body jolt when his hands come to your waist.

“I had a whole night dedicated to making you feel good,” Caleb murmurs as he starts to pepper your neck in kisses. “Planned to eat this sweet pussy, to give you complete control. But,” he tsks. “You’ll have to be okay with getting stuffed with cum and used by the both of us for making us wait, won’t you?”

For something to seem like a punishment, it made you feel nothing but pure excitement.

“Yes,” you breathe out.

“You’re so good when you’re hungry for dick, aren’t you?” Caleb roughly puts his hands beneath your thighs, lifting your legs and spreading them open. You wrap your legs around his waist, moaning as his hard cock glides against your pussy lips, smearing his and Zayne’s cum on your soft curls.

Zayne kisses down your shoulder, looking into Caleb’s eyes. He then reaches over and in between you two, taking Caleb’s cock in his hand and helping to guide him inside of you. The chains shake while you brace yourself and you watch with bated breath as the head of his cock starts to disappear and fill your hole. He’s not gentle at all as he spears you with his thickness in one fluid motion.

It’s brings you to tears, making you scream. Caleb holds you up by your ass as he rams into you unforgivingly, feeling how rapidly your flesh ripples as your weeping pussy takes his punishing thrusts.

One of his hands braces on the back of your neck, holding you closer as you take what he’s giving you, unable to touch him how you like to. That alone is almost as punishing as his tip consistently pounding into your cervix. Your breasts bounce in his face, making him press against them and inhaling you deeply.

Zayne makes himself visible, bringing his finger close and collecting the drool that trails down your chin, bringing it to his angry cock. He strokes himself with your saliva, making you clench uncontrollably around Caleb at the visual of his precum hitting the floor.

“I’m gonna fuck my baby into you,” Caleb declares as he breathes deeply in your ear, biting the lobe. Your mewls echo in the room as his hips twitch.

“We both are. You’ll be so full of our cum that we’ll have no choice but to wait and see whose takes first. Oh fuck… you’ll be so pretty,” he bites your shoulder. “Round with our baby. Glowing because we fucked you so good that you had no choice but to grow our family.”

“Let me have your baby,” you say incoherently, too dumb on dick to form any other words. Wet and sticky substances push and pull between your bodies both slick with sweat.

“I’m coming,” Caleb pushes out, unable to hold back anymore as he slams into you so hard that you’re sure his forceful grip on your ass will bruise.

He groans loudly in your ear and he doesn’t give you or him a moment. He clenches his teeth as he pulls out, the sound of his spend hitting the floor as it leaks out of you and drips from his length. He steps to the side to let Zayne get his turn.

Zayne is a little more gentle, but his need is just as great. As your orgasm still rips through you, making your body shudder, he braces his palms beneath your thighs to lift you up and open again and he’s so hard and you’re so slick with cum that he doesn’t need help getting inside your used pussy. With eyes on each other, you ready yourself to take him, too.

Your sensitive cunt sucks him inside, the sound of squelching fluids and smacking skin forcing cries from your ragged throat. Caleb stands beside you both, reaching in between and causing Zayne to bite his bottom lip. You look down to see how he grabs Zayne’s balls, stimulating him and making his cheeks flush red as his hair falls into his eyes.

A mix of your cum and Caleb’s coats Zayne’s long length, and you feel the mess on your thighs.

“You take my cock so well. Even when you’re filled with his cum, when your hole is used, you squeeze me so good, my love,” Zayne says softly against your lips.

You watch how his cock disappears in and out, your arms feeling the burn of being up for so long.

“You want to have our baby?” he asks as he kisses the corner of your mouth. “We’d go together so well. We already have for so long, it’s only right.”

Caleb goes behind you now, sucking your skin and whispering filthy depraved things in your ear.

You’re so drunk off the both of them that you can’t announce the second time you get ready to come. It’s so strong and forceful that it shocks you when you squirt all over Zayne’s dick and lower body. You scream, trying to pull back because of the overstimulation and the chains insistently rattle.

“Holy fuck..” Caleb breathes out as he watches the masterpiece before him, running his fingers across your hard nipples.

Zayne fucks you through it all, absolutely enamored by the visual of your throughly pleasured body responding to the onslaught of continues thrusts. Finally, his own orgasm peaks and he’s slowly pumping his thick cum into you, using you to empty his balls to which you gladly accept.

Zayne stays inside you as you feel pressure on the chains, your body unable to control itself when your arms are released and they fall down tiredly onto Zayne’s shoulders.

“Let’s get her cleaned up. Our girl did so well,” Caleb says as he tucks your hair behind your ear to see your flushed cheeks. Zayne walks down the hallway to the bathroom with you in his arms, kissing your shoulder as tender as he did earlier.

“You did so good. You’re absolutely mesmerizing,” he praises.

After your bath, Caleb helps you get dressed while Zayne works on heating the food up for you all to eat in the kitchen.

“How are you feeling?” he asks as he examines your raw pussy. Zayne checked on you before he went to get food ready, saying you were okay and that you just need a break for a few days, but Caleb just likes to make sure.

“Good,” you say hoarsely. “Really good.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” he smiles.

You’re limping as you walk from having a sore everything. But each step reminds you of the pleasure and pain you felt, making it all worth it. Being taken like that, taking their cocks with no break is something you’d do whenever they wanted.

For the rest of the night, you share a meal and quality time with the two men you fell in love with so effortlessly. The way they love you, please you, adore you, and take care of you, is a special gift you’d never take for granted and one you hope you’ll own forever.

[c0sm1cp0tat0]

Yandere! Saja Boys x Reader

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4.

Fresh tears were overflowing down your cheeks. Your eyes were wide. You stumbled off and away from the bed. Jinu rose slowly. His large palm delicately covered the harsh sting that you gave him on the delicately perfect sharpness of his cheek.

You weren't afraid. You were shocked at yourself for doing such a thing. But at the same time, you couldn't willfully bring yourself to care. Jinu had it coming. Just...you hadn't realized how much you had not moved on from your boyfriend yet. A single crass mention of his death and...you lost it.

In your head, it was as if he had just left you. A seperation. Like he'd come back someday. You couldn't face the fact that he was actually gone. Forever. You refused to come to terms with it. A love like that couldn't just end. What you had couldn't just be cut off like that, by a mere car driving over the speed limit.

When the dark-haired beauty of a man looked back at you again, his eyes were no longer dark. They were molten gold and shone with a fever-bright light.

"Fuck, that's hot." He licked his lips. You'd hit him so hard, there was a burst in his bottom lip. It regenerated rapidly before your very eyes.

You jolted like a frightened cat and scrambled backwards.

Well shit, you had no idea of what you'd done last night...but this, this was a means to sue for certain.

The boys leaned back against the headboard to watch. Abby, despite the smile on his face, pinched his nosebridge.

"Jinu, you're spooking the poor girl."

Jinu hadn't even realized that you had just bitch slapped him and he found it unbelievably hot when no other human in your place would be alive.

Infact, he found it so endearing that he was going mad. His face heating up, a smile growing, "Why haven't I killed you yet." It was muttered under his breath and you gulped.

"Murder is illegal and like I said, you just can't get away wi--"

He cut you off by smashing his lips to yours.

⌗☾︎ ‧₊˚ ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶⋅₊˚☽︎⌗

Days passed, then weeks. You had been working from home. No one from work questioned you about your absence. Probably due to the passing of your lover. You smiled wryly to yourself.

Everyone you knew had known you were together. The pitiful looks you had gotten after his passing were insanely uncomfortable.

The Saja boys were...handfuls. To say in the least. The first time they had come back from a concert, they had crowded you with hugs and kisses and forced you in their huge ass couch to watch a movie with them. When you questioned them, the reply was something akin to 'we need to charge, hun.'

The next few times they had come back from a gig or an interview or fan meet, you had tried hiding. You didn't want them on you. Turned out; They fucking loved the hunt. Picture yourself, wailing as they carried you back to the sitting room. Squealing for hours as they kissed you deep and hard as punishment for 'trying to hide from your men'. Before proceeding to cuddle with your exhausted form innocently, like the first time.

Well, you're not trying that out again.

As of now, you were on sort of a probationary period. You agreed not to try escape or contact the authorities, they agreed to give you your laptop and phone and everything that you'd ever want.

But they still refused to stop bothering you. And as much as you tried to get over it, to ignore it or accept it or something, it was getting to you.

For example, in this particular moment where you were locked in. Your work was done for the day, but you couldn't help yourself and started another project. It was going well until Beni decides to climb in behind you and slip you onto his lap.

"When are you finished?? Are you finished yet?"

"[Y/N]. [Y/N]....[Y/NNNNN]...."

Do not engage. You sucked in a breath. It would be okay if you could even upset them somehow. But everything you did just seemed to rile them up like crazy. In a different sort of way from anger.

"You gave Romance attention today, but none to meeeee..." Yeah, attention in the form of a sharp slap on the hand because the pinkette wouldn't stop comparing your footsize to his, which was near double yours.

Too bad for you, Baby, by now, knew exactly how to elicit a reaction from you, "This... Hangyeol of yours. Was he super handsome? As much as us?"

You sat up straight. And turned to look at Beni. You knew this was a ploy for your attention. You knew he didnt actually care, but still. When it came to him you couldn't stop yourself, "Only the most handsome. He could have become an idol. Just like you lot. But he said he'd rather the normal life." You couldn't help but smile to yourself.

"But we're super loyal to you even of we have a lot of fans!! Doesn't that make us better??" Beni was desperate for a sliver of you approval. Even a crumb. On TV he was the proud, spoilt and utterly savage maknae. With you? He was true to his name; a needy, overgrown fucking baby.

Malak cut in, walking in, "That's true though." He muttered in that quiet but delicious voice of his. Roman walked in afterwards, adding in, "Yeah, watch this."

He switched on the TV and searched up their recent interview.

'So, Saja Boys~ Recently, there have been rumors of you having relations to our Huntrix girls!! Do you support these allegations??'

You watched as the Saja boys on the screen froze. Their smiles fell, morphing into expression of pure annoyance and indifference.

"We do not support these rumors whatsoever." Jinu was the first to speak, voice not so light and happy as usual. The interviewer flinched a little but still carried that plastic-pleasant smile on her face.

"We're only a debut group and have no connection whatsoever to our sunbaes." Abby was pausing between each word as if trying not to say anything overtly offensive.

"There's someone we already really like." Malak rasped coolly, leaning back in his seat as if he hadn't just spoken ground-breaking news to all of their fans. Unapologetically.

The crowd went absoulutely crazy. You flinched at the volume of the cheers. You had imagined as much, though. Such news of an entire boyband liking one person? And it was also delivered by that boybands most silent, mysterious dude.

You stood up, but were yanked right back. You squeaked. Abby's absoulutely huge biceps around your throat, engulfing your face and literally suffocating you. You could never get used to it no matter how many times they smothered you.

You were still afraid of him in particular. You kicked your legs, trying to flail your way out of this. He chuckled as if dealing with a hissy kitten, effortlessly locking you in. A nasty lick up your small, chubby cheek made you shriek.

"Look what we did for you, darling~ Shouldn't you take responsibility?"

"You chose to d-do that-- s'not my respo--"

Romance's eyes were crazy as he grabbed you abruptly and pressed his lips to yours. Hard.

Jinu walked in and got straight to the point, silencing your anguished squeaks.

"We'll make you a deal, [Y/N]. You're the lead manager of STU Tech, correct?"

You tried to ignore the fact that you were in Romances lap right now and he was pressing kisses up your inner wrist, instead focusing on Jinu in a glare.

"I'm not making deal with the likes of-"

"We'll let you go on one condition."

Suddenly, by magic, you were all ears.

"Drop your tech job. Become our full-time manager."

You flinched as if burned, "No."

"The pay is way better." Baby remarked, smoothening out your hair for you.

"No."

"But whyy!? You get free merch!" Romance whined pitifully.

"And free sketches of my abs!!" Abby added unhelpfully too.

"No."

Jinu shrugged, "Then I guess you'll just be stuck here with us for all eternity.

That thought burst you out of your denial, "No-- Wait!"

He turned back around and sat on the teatable. Legs spread, cheek in his palm, elbow propped up on his thigh. "Then what is it that you choose?"

Abbott licked his lips at your evident internal turmoil, tight arm muscles twitching as he twirled a strand of your hair. Whilst you blatantly tried to lean away.

"I'll-- I'll work as the manager. But you have to return all my legal files!!"

Jinu clicked his fingers. A stack of papers, labelled clearly in a folder materialized in thin air and dropped into your lap. Your ID rested on top.

You tried not to show how spooked you were by their powers but ultimately failed as your hand hovered above the card hesitantly.

Baby gave a small, mean chuckle. You immediately glared at him and snatched it up.

"Fine then. I guess I....work for you now." Your voice went high pitched and soft-like at the end of the scentence. Because you knew it was going to be anything but easy. And nothing close to what you were used to.

"It'll be easier than your tech job. Less numbers. More... interaction." Romance whispered the last bit in your ear, giving you a tentative little squeeze. The hairs on your neck all stood up, you went rigid.

You'd learnt something over the past week or two. It was that they knew how to move in sync. It could drive you crazy sometimes.

Like now where Romance had his arms locked around you. And while Beni stroked your cheek with pastel painted fingers to make you look at him, Abby leaned in from the other side and planted a kiss on your cheek.

"Cute," The violet haired man breathed as you screeched in distress, rubbing furiously at your cheek.

"Whatever!! I'll do whatever I need to-- let me pack my stuff and get outta here!"

Romance released his hands and watched as you stumbled out of their embrace, turning back to regard them cautiously with those lovely eyes before rushing up to your room.

"I think we're becoming addicted," He sighed. And for once, he was right. Even Mystery gave a subtle grunt of agreement.

"If only she wouldn't- like- run her hand through her hair like that." The pink haired man helplessly sighed again.

"Wish she'd stop with those witty comebacks. Just using that sexy brain of hers in general. Its hard to hold myself back sometimes." Abby leaned back and draped an arm over the back of the couch.

Baby fist-bumped him, "I feel ya brother."

"She's so small. And warm. And smells good, too." Mystery rasped. He had a lolipop in his mouth. Everytime he'd try touch you or confine you to his lap you'd give him one and try exchange it while you got away. It was a poor substitute for your proximity but it would have to do for now.

Mystery behaved all beast-like but he wasn't stupid. As soon as you signed that contract to work in their company, you wouldn't be able to get away. In the human world, contracts with an entertainment company were like slave contracts. Until the prolonged period of employment was over, you wouldn't be leaving.

And by god, would they make that period long. You wouldn't be able to escape by any means.

When you got up to your room, Abby was already in your guest bed. You backed up. He clicked his fingers and the door slammed shut behind you. Not taking your eyes off of him, you threw yourself at the door, twisting and yanking the handle desperately, trying to open it.

He tried to reassure you just a beat too late for it to be considered genuine. And he knew it, "Hey, hey calm down. I'm not gonna hurt ya. Just here ta...help you pack." He watched you, eyes flashing, "Since you're so damn desperate to get out of here."

"What do you expect!?? You're strangers who trapped me here for no reason..."

"No reason-- are you still denying it??" He sat up and groaned, throwing his head back. It accentuated his jawline. You looked away.

"Denying what."

"That we like you."

You flinched. Lately you'd gotten used to the five of them saying that to you over and over. Whispering words of love and reverence in your ear. Driving you insane. But when it was declared loud and proud like that, you couldn't shut it out as always.

"Wait-- that still doesn't mean you can hold me in captivity here."

"It can for us. We're demons. Do you know how much more deeply we feel emotions than humans do? We haven't felt anything akin to this in centuries. It hit us hard, darling. You hit us hard." He wanted to grab you by the shoulders and shake you. Imagine; centuries of misery and obedience and shame. And suddenly you walk past and shake up all their worlds like this. Without even meaning to.

You opened your mouth to answer, but for once, you didn't have any words. It was just as well, because the door swung open the next second.

"We're helping you pack!" Roman announced, marching in with Malak and Beni behind him.

He plopped down on your bed like he owned the place-- well-- he did. Baby grabbed your pillow and pressed his face into it.

An audible inhale could be heard. You turn to see Mystery with one of your panties in his fist. Sniffing shamelessly, then pouting, wounded as he realized that it was completely clean.

You shrieked in rage and lunged at him. Like one of those sticky weeds, you got his hands off your undergarment, but then he'd latched onto you instead. And by god was his grip that much tighter on you, the real thing. Without the effort, as usual, he pulled you down onto his thighs

He put his face to your neck and sniffed. Then kissed it. You sucked in sharply. This should be over soon. But then he kept going down. And soon, the crazy shit was trying to duck his head between your thighs.

The rest were watching as you squealed in anguish, twisting and cursing like a trooper. Your small hand clenching Malak's hair and yanking it back desperately. With his hair pulled back, you could see the way his eyebrows were furrowed, the morbid concentration in those pretty eyes as he completely focused in on your crotch. Trying to get to it one way or another.

"Hey buddy, calm downnn--" Romance laid a hand on Mystery's shoulder, but he had this grin of approval on his face that belied his actions, the stupid fucker.

Malak snapped at him. No actually, Roman pulled his hand away in time to not get it bitten off.

"See? This is what you get for denying our feelings for you." Abby taunted

"Wait she's still denying them?" Romance, faced him with a raised brow.

"Fuck that, she doesn't even believe them!" The purple head replied, flared eyebrows raised in an expression of equal disbelief and annoyance.

"Shut the fuck up and help me!!" You squeaked. Your arms were hurting from all the pulling and yet you hadn't yanked a single micro-hair from Malak's head. Inhumane hair as well?? Damn unfair.

You were on your back now. And Mystery was nuzzling your calves, still trying to get a taste of the feast between your legs. If only you'd just let him, he'd make you feel soooo good--

"This should be fun." Beni mused to himself.

"I'll-- I'll give you something else-!! So please-- Ah fuck, you psychotic shit!!" You voice had reached a fever pitch by the end of the scentence because you could feel that ghost of breath on your sensitive inner thighs. Malak hadn't even paused to listen to you.

Just the sound of your voice talking to him riled him up enough to try harder, pulling forward like a dog on a leash, pretty lips open and almost panting--

"Aww, don't be mad at him, he just wants to have you close~" Abby purred, stretching again. The last surviving button of his shirt popped open, flashing you.

"Stop justifying it!!", You screeched, unable to withhold yourself.

"Lucky fucker, he gets away with it cus his brain is muddled," Baby mumbled begrudgingly.

That hit you. Were you that much of a pushover?? I mean, look what was happening to you right now. But there was the side of it where the offenders were literally these demons with actual POWERS who were worshipped like literal gods by their fans.

You weren't dumb. They'd made such a perfect, happy-looking persona to the public, even the police wouldn't believe what you were telling them. If you imagined it, it would appear as if a die-hard fan was deluded by her own fantasies.

You didn't want Mystery to get away with this. But what consequences would he have to pay? Nothing. 'Cus you're too weak to even get any revenge. If you kicked, he caught your ankles and pressed kisses to them like you'd given him a gift. You were only so far from going completely feral and biting his neck out.

But fuck that, you didn't even need revenge. You weren't that pathetic. You just wanted to get away. You wanted peace.

He withdrew himself now. You imagined because he'd given some thought to what you said. You start your offers, "Ten lolipops--", He grabbed your thigh again, "No-- wait wait wait!!" He paused, waiting for your improved offer.

Helpless, you turn to Romance, "What does he like?"

Roman leaned back, regarding you with that cocky-male-satisfied smirk because you refused to ever turn to him for help.

"Malak, if you stop, Harshi will give you kisses whenever ya want however ya want for the rest of the week."

Malak withdrew himself immediately. But he still caught the hand in his hair, nuzzling into it.

It took you a few beats to register the offer made in your stead. It was a Monday, "What!!?"

The pinkette man laughed at your bulging eyes. "What do you mean, 'What' ? You asked me what he likes. He likes you. We all do. And, the sooner you accept it, the easier it will be for you."

⌗☾︎ ‧₊˚ ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶⋅₊˚☽︎⌗

TAGLIST ༉‧₊˚✧↳ @yumekono @levifiance @amery-benson-cvii @wantstoliveinfantasy @osball @apelepikozume @st3f13ily @little-ponkan @strayharmony943 @lazy-panther @scara-simp69 @p1nkpaperstars @ryuucollapse @tatsuri-zomushiki @crescent-z @wpdarlingpan @natllo @daikiswife @kinichportablecharger @realifezompire @i-am-here3 @daiyanomochi

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

Texting the LADS guys, but it’s why choose 6

Tags: LADS men x fem!Reader, mfmmmm, smau, why choose, polycule, undefined relationships, some canon some not canon stuff, jokes about suicide, astra mentioned, cursing, alcohol use, nsfw, mdni

An: the girlies are finally letting caleb have a break

<< prev | next >>

taglist: @sugurugetoshairbrush @theuniversesnepobaby @bimbohkitty @yourname-exee

[silken-moonlight]

Hear me out: Reverse Harem Dragon Boyfriends.

Because of changes in time, many dragons live in packs or hordes, mostly numbering two to six dragons per group.

Let's say you're the cute, slightly dorky assistant in a small antique jewelry shop. You immediately catch the eye of one dragon from a specific group. He tells the others about you, even bringing them to see you.

There are three of them, three different dragons who lived together happily, and now they all would like a piece of you. Prepare for trouble, prepare for chaos...and being absolutely overstuffed and filled to the brim with...oh, you know what...

[sunnypopoki]

YANDERE X READER RECS ━━

ᴀ ᴄᴏʟʟᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴀʟʟ ᴍʏ ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ꜱᴛᴏʀɪᴇꜱ ꜰᴏʀ ʙᴏᴛʜ ᴍᴀʟᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴇᴍᴀʟᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀꜱ! ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ ɪɴ ᴅᴇᴘᴛʜ ʀᴇᴀʟɪꜱᴛɪᴄ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀꜱ, ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ɪ ᴀʟᴡᴀʏꜱ ᴛʀʏ ᴍʏ ʜᴀʀᴅᴇꜱᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ, ʏᴏᴜ’ʟʟ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜᴇꜱᴇ ꜱᴛᴏʀɪᴇꜱ. ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ’ʀᴇ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴇꜱᴛᴇᴅ, ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ꜱᴜʀᴇ ᴛᴏ ꜰᴏʟʟᴏᴡ!

𝐌𝐔𝐙𝐙𝐋𝐄 ( yandere! mafia husband x female! reader)

Y/N fell in love with him in high school, married him after graduation, and moved in with him whenever she decided to go to college. But something about him was odd. Disappearing at night, being gone for days on end, answering suspicious unknown phone calls, being overly clingy... He's not cheating, right? Or was something worse going on?

• • • AVAILABLE ON WATTPAD, TUMBLR, QUOTEV

𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐎𝐍 ( dark reverse harem x villainess! reader )

Y/N wanted her arranged husband dead. Who could blame her? After she was forced to marry the Grand Duke, she knew that she'd live a miserable life, especially if it meant being tethered to him til the end of her days. So she started to make a plan. A sinister plan to kill him, his close friends, and topple his empire of fame to the ground. If she wasn't allowed to have rights, why should they? But it was easier said than done... because unbeknownst to her, three men would do anything to appease her.

• • • AVAILABLE ON WATTPAD

𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐄 ( yandere! emperor x female! reader )

Emperor Cadmus Dimitriou. Whether people knew him by his title as emperor of Kiaba, or his cutthroat win in the war three years ago, they all knew that a man like him was destined for greatness. But Y/N? She was destined for the constant spray of blood, the roaring of the crowd, and the thud of bodies dropping. It wasn't like Gladiators had a choice. However, that all changed when she was bought for a cheap price by a cruel man who wanted to test her fame. And Emperor Cadmus wouldn't take no for an answer.

• • • NOT YET RELEASED (WILL BE SOON)

𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐒 ( yandere! vampire x male! reader )

The Devil stopped at the doorstep of Y/N's church with a charming smile. Business, he said, that was why he came by to visit. His touch left Y/N's skin in flames, his gaze made his stomach twist, and his voice made his head spin. This man, Linus Ambrose Wittherson, had to be Lucifer himself.

• • • AVAILABLE ON WATTPAD

𝐀 𝐋𝐈���𝐑𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐏𝐒 ( assassins! reverse harem x villainess! reader )

Everyone inside Fulminare Academy had secrets; the professors, the students, the scrappy dogs outside. Y/N was no different. However, she never thought those secrets would lead to her demise. Mysterious men were out for her head, or more specifically, the knowledge inside it. May curiosity kill these wicked cats.

• • • AVAILABLE ON WATTPAD & QUOTEV

𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄 𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐓 ( yandere! serial killer x male! reader )

Y/N knew there was something wrong with him but he couldn't help it. He was 𝘰𝘣𝘴𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥. Who wouldn't be hooked onto someone like Micah Ariti? A transfer student from Greece who was perfect in every way; his athleticism, his creativity, his 'no-bullshit' type of personality. Even if he knew then about who he really was, he was already addicted. He would never let him go.

• • • NOT YET RELEASED (WILL BE SOON)

[queenendless]

ÞŘỊPŁƏ ẄŒØ

A/n: As much as we all love current Jinwoo, every version of Jinwoo is precious. And SO!

All Jinwoos have romantic feelings for you but not for each other cause they're the same person.

Triple Sung Jinwoo x Fem!Adult!Reader

CW: MANWHA SPOILERS INSIDE! SPOILER ALERT: There will be a PT 2 to this one shot cause this got kinda long. So there's that.

BIG TIME What if AU. Angst, hurt/comfort, depression, chronic problems, sleeping anxiety.

NO PLAGARIZING, REPOSTING, TRANSLATING, USE OF MY FANFIC WORK IN AI STUFF ALLOWED. REBLOG, LIKE AND FOLLOW INSTEAD PLS N THNX.

You never imagined you'd become the light of your angel's life. You still have days when you think that it's all been one long dream and you'd wake up back in that grey lonely life you never want to go back to.

But no, waking up that afternoon in your shared spacious bedroom. Rolling in that King sized bed to detect his side had his scent lingering still. But empty. Meaning he hadn't returned from his guild work from yesterday.

The sound of the front door to your shared home opening got your heart racing with joy at the chance to see your dear Monarch again.

And yet, the ensuing situation that followed suit really did feel like walking into a dream. An unusual one at that, sure. But also quite intriguing.

“Neither a curse nor a status debuff, my ass. You'd think these new Monarch powers could undo this side effect?” The tallest Jinwoo grumbled under his breath, brushing back his hair in frustration, pacing back and forth in the living room.

“How are we supposed to be out in public now? Handle the guild? Seeing our folks? Our secret will be found out at this rate!” Post reawakened Jinwoo griped, pinning you in between him and pre reawakened Jinwoo like a sandwich, to your dopey smiling satisfaction.

“In any case, I'll be the one visiting the guild for those matters. Otherwise, you and I will tackle the dungeons ourselves, alone.”

“H-Hang on! Why should I be left behind?! I'm no male housewife!” Starter Jinwoo whined.

“Yeah, don't kid yourself, squirt.” Monarch Jinwoo ruffled his unruly mop of hair affectionately, his baby faced counterparts pouting and puffed up cheeks proving his point.

“Aw, please don't leave me alone.” You nuzzled his pink dusted face like a needy cat, that got him melting up.

“Uh – I – o – okay~” His bashful smile got you planting a big ol smooch on his lips. He couldn't stop smiling as he swooned over your lap.

Jinwoo #2 glared, a vein popping up on his head. “Hey, it's not fair he gets to hog our sweetheart all to himself all day while we have to work.”

“With no reawakening, he can't level up so he'd be putting himself at Death's door again like before. If even one of us dies, we'll all die and leave our family behind, including our beloved here. And they won't be defenseless.” King Jinwoo explained.

The sight of Beru appearing out of your Shadow got Jinwoo#1 trembling from fear instinctively at the imposing entity when Monarch Jinwoo stood between you two and his General.

“Should any harm come to these two, like getting distracted by your period dramas, you know what will happen, don't you?” The deadly gaze of his King spoke doom for the former Ant King.

Shadow Preservation will let him know the moment Beru fumbles.

“Yes, I do, my liege! I will not let you down! And if I fail, I will gladly accept my punishment! But please give me a chance to prove my usefulness to you all!” Beru weeped before his liege dismissed him, meshing into the shadow of —

“Jinwoo mochi.”

“ … Eh?” All three sweat dropped in sync.

The action of cupping OG Jinwoo's supple cheeks, kneading and pinching and rubbing your thumbs in circles on such pure smoothness had your eyes sparkle in wonder and your hums of content heard behind your smitten grin. The visual of pre Jinwoo's face going from pale to rosey red as his grey blue eyes had spirals of tipsy dazeness, incomprehensible sounds spilling out of his dopey smile.

“You are so fucking cute, I can't stand it!” Your playful growling as you indeed began chewing on his cheeks got his nervous laughs rumbling into your chest next, his heart in overdrive, matching beat for beat with yours.

The steamy blow of air through their noses was one warning signal that the other two Jinwoo were irked — envy molten auras in blue and purple another sign — that baby-faced them was getting your current attention.

“Don't you dare forget about me, beautiful~” Jinwoo the 2nd cockily purred in your ear, plopping behind you on the couch, nipping at your nape, his nose dotingly rubbing your cheek, keeping you struggling between focus on both bois.

“I'll engrave myself in your mind then~” The effortlessly hot deepness of King Jinwoo’s inflection had him gently grip your chin to raise your face to meet him over the couch in quite a devouring kiss.

“Hey, sharing is caring, you sneaky bastards!” Baby Jinwoo shrilled up. Breaking free just to save your deprived lungs, an all out argument between all three ensued, your light headed self slacking against the couch.

The cacophony of range these three voices could go filled in your now lively place.

And so, then began this unexpected arc in the story of you and Jinwoo times three.

Pre-reawakened Jinwoo.

While the other two would do their dungeon raids together, that meant you'd spend most of your time with him.

Stuck at home together meant you teaming up to manage it, whether that be folding laundry to even cook together. If you don't really cook, he's more than happy to teach you. Having his hands layer yours, pressed up against you from behind, is the best feeling. Course he'd melt in a puddle shortly after.

Taking walks together outdoors meant holding hands or intertwined arms as you spent hours chatting about anything, mesmerized in each other's eyes while admiring the flora and fauna of nature.

“Okay, I am the male wife.” He mumbled in surrender, slumping against you, both of you in your casual tees and shorts, binging your favorites together in the living room while sharing your snacks together one lazy day.

“He admits it!” You exclaimed dramatically, ruffling his already unruly shaggy mop to his giggling delight.

“I know I'm not like the other mes… but I will do my best to make you happy. I'll do anything for you. I love you with all my heart, saarang.”

You easily top him over, laying atop him, your bedroom eyes conjuring hearts in his grey blue irises. “Then I'll make sure you're reminded each and every day that you're just as well loved. You're all mine now, baby girl~”

His drawn out squeak was the only sign of him still alive from the embarrassment, slacking in your arms like a limp noodle.

He's the easiest to mess with, all out of love.

Post reawakened Jinwoo, still an E-rank.

You did most of your outings into the city with him. Usually he goes incognito, whether in caps and a face mask or keeping his hoodie on, hoping not to be spotted and mistaken for his S-rank self.

You both did the buying, groceries and window shopping. Your phone gallery was chock full of selfies with you and your bashful grinning hunter.

While Tank became his assigned Shadow in the meantime, he could serve as transport. But only when it was just you two around or unless it's an emergency. Besides, he still has his own speed skills. Hence, giving you piggyback rides before zipping away in a flash, leaving folk wandering nearby nearly falling over from the sudden strong gusts of winds he left in his wake. His cheeky grin looking back at you took your breath away.

Joining him in on his daily quest workouts nearly do you in, your physically ailing limits being the root cause. Your legs turn to jelly as you nearly collapse from fatigue but your dashing hunter lover makes sure to catch you in his arms, holding you tightly while riding on Tank for the trek back home.

While you can openly tease and mess with him, he's on even footing with you, even more so.

“It's a pain to be split in three and not knowing how long it'll last, so having you with me is a blessing. Now tell me, what will it take for you to make me the best Sung Jinwoo in your eyes? Come on, honey, let your angel Woo you over~”

That cheesy pun out of the blue sent you buckling over in bouts of laughter, nearly falling over but his arms enveloping you kept you standing within his grasp. “Wow. Can't believe that actually worked,” He murmured in astonishment, grinning confidently in response. “She has Sung her approval~!”

That got you cackling, clutching your aching tummy, as more puns came your way to leave you a breathless mess that went beyond his expectations, utterly convinced to be more silly from that point on, even after he hopefully becomes whole again.

And Shadow Monarch Jinwoo, the tenth S-rank hunter in Korea and the head of his own guild, is hands down the most possessive over you. The rare moments you get alone with him happen in his own private office when he takes you to work with him.

The selfie of him putting you in an explicit headlock rivaled every single photo you took with his reawakened past self. His vibrant violet eyes on his smug smirking face littered by your lipstick smooches, your blushing squished cheeks, those veins along that flexing bicep smothering your lip smeared shameless face.

Making a group chat with just the Jinwoos proved a bad call when the other two were driven up the wall with envy at their superior version laying claim to you when they weren't around. The stream of emojis from Jinwoo 1 merging with the countless threats from Jinwoo 2 made big boss Jin darkly chuckle in the entertaining response, the mirthful twinkle in his eyes rippling from spotting you red in the face like mush in his big leather desk chair.

Unwinding from the stress of his guild master duties and keeping face with his colleagues and family while also having to wait out however long this three in one problem will last. Taking rides together on Kaisel gave you both a much needed breath of fresh air. Updating you on pupil Jinwoo's progress leveling up although the Gates turn red whenever he joins in said gate all to challenge him. He assures you immensely that he ensures his other self’s safety while sharing the EXP.

“Sharing you with my other selves has been quite the test for my tolerance.” Tugging insistently on his tie, the taut muscle definition of his upper chest peaked out, his neck flexing those veins, flaring his collar out in the process. “However, I am resolved to remind them just who truly is in charge here.” Pinning you literally on top of his desk came just as quick as you did already feeling him brush up against your valley. “Including you~”

Chronic problems plagued your form. Daily migraines, tense knots in your neck, the works. Regardless of which Jinwoo does it, massages always come your way. Whether resting your head on their lap or laying down on the bed, you melted from their shared skill touch.

Of course not every day is sunshine and rainbows. With chronic issues also came depression. Of course, all three dudes come to an agreement on equally giving you space to unwind as well as teaming up to give you all their affection.

Jinwoo #1 gifts you single flowers that grew surrounding your home, placing them behind your ear after presenting you one each day. Home-cooked meals are a given at this point, keeping in mind your allergies and dietary restrictions should you have any. He helps prepare salt baths that you more than invite him to join you to keep your clingy self company. And he lends his hoodie for comfort on those moody grey days.

Jinwoo #2 gifts you during your shopping sprees together, purchasing plushies and apparel to even getting fried chicken that you make sure you have enough to share with all your bois at home. You and him game together when he comes home early from raiding. Although his fatigue relief skill kicked in, he still deflated in your embrace welcoming him back home in the foyer, nuzzling your adorable face like a needy feline himself. Plus, his rambunctious commentary sends you into a wheezing mess, handing him easy wins. The times you did dethrone him resulted in his stubborn self knowing he could do better, challenging you for another round.

Jinwoo #3 is the one most able to give you anything your heart desires. With such influence and connections on top of his limitless abilities as the reincarnated Monarch, he would make anything possible. But considering he was the busiest out of the three, all you really wanted was to spend more time together. He still gifted you the same items as his other selves, but he made sure to include a fancy dinner and a dance among the stars as an inviting bonus.

Sleep anxiety is also a struggle you face. Incidents from your dreary past late at night left their scars. So taking naps now and then throughout the day after sleeping in the morning was your norm.

Even now, comfortably sleeping through the night is difficult, anxiety making you uncomfortable on edge for the unpredictable and unknown.

One step, one night at a time, the secure embrace giving you reassuring squeezes in bed reminding you you weren't alone. Whichever Jinwoo it is, they all are perfect bedmates. Their cooing words became your ASMR.

“Ssh. There there. I'm right here. Listen to my breathing, my heart, my voice. You can rest easy now, sweetheart.”

Kissing your teary face and letting you rest on their cozy warm chests as they rubbed comforting circles along your back, the combined sensations slowly aided in your sleep, however long or short.

So returning the favor only made sense.

All three Jinwoos suffered from nightmares. Mostly Jinwoo #1. Night terrors were his own sleep struggle throughout this story arc. Especially from dreams of the Double Dungeon. Breaking out in a cold sweat, tossing and turning, whimpering and weeping, before screaming out in awakening, heaving haphazardly, desperately reaching his hands out to you, clinging to you like the lifeline you are. Especially on nights when your other Jins’ are still out due to whatever reason.

Singing a lullaby song you heard from a show that really stuck with you helped a great deal in calming him down. Cradling him in your arms, brushing through those sweat matted bangs, your voice was the angel of music gracing his ears. It's too mesmerizing to ignore.

“You're okay. You're alright. I'll never ever leave your side. I will stay and I will fight with you~”

Unbeknownst to you two, Beru's shadow linked to both versions of his master, Jinwoo #3 swoons over your heavenly voice, smiling like a lovesick fool, Jinho silently hoping they finish work early so his big bro can get back to you, his one and only.

“Please don't leave me. Please stay, Y/n.” Your Jin baby's wish gets granted by your doting, utilizing the same exact methods they use to treat your night troubles.

Jinwoo 2 is less vocal when he wakes up from bad dreams. Yet you feel a sturdy heat envelope around you. His endearing gaze grew the more he stared at your peaceful face, his stare blurring from warm wetness, blinking them back before pecking your forehead. “You're my dream come true~” He whispers lovingly in your ear before cuddling up against your precious self, tears actually shed as you return the hug through your slumber, thoughts of you and only you lulling him into good old dream land.

Now Jinwoo 3 is something else. He usually sits up, lost in thought for a bit, before heading to the kitchen for a mug of water and maybe even preparing some food to keep him busy. And every time, he could feel you arising, finding him, and joining him all so he wouldn't be alone. He'd do the same for you. They all would, absolutely.

You can hear the aching vulnerability trembling with each breath he took as his towering frame draped over you, his shoulders shaking as his hands clawed at your back, your very existence grounding him in the here and now.

“Parts of me will never be the same, not after all I've done … yet you still choose me. How did I ever deserve you, huh?” His nose caresses yours, rocking with you side to side, as his submerging look sunk its hold upon your trembling soul. “Y/n, you truly are something else. My safe haven~”

While having three Jinwoos is indeed a handful, seeing every part of him that make up who he is reminds you of his empathy, sympathy, cleverness, tactfulness, and brilliance.

But you too hope that your three darlings become whole again soon.

And soon enough, at last, your shared prayers were finally heard.

The solution to this dilemma?

Well ...

What do you think~?

[aninipanin1]

Some ideas for Manager are them accidentally getting hit with an off course ball, learning how to play football so they can help out a bit or perhaps, for old manager (but ig young manager could work too), them having used to play football before and having the world five/the coaches help them brush up on their rusty skills so they can help the boys with overtime practice, perhaps?

Sorry, I can't say I have any more ideas beyond this

KICKED TO THE HEAD

Notes: This req is lowkey so cute! I chose young manager instead if youre fine with it hehehe, but I will try to make another one to answer the other two req because I lowkey like them.

"Hmm, next on my to-do list is to check up on each stratum. Hmm, since the closest to where I am is the German Stratum, I'll head there first!"

You found yourself skipping away to where the training field was, where you know the players were currently training. It was a not-so regular day in the Blue Lock Facility due to the fact that the continuation of the Neo-Egoist League matches will be held in 3 days time.

Hence, all players, masters and even staff were busy, slaving away in their training or jobs. You decided to just give a small peek to each stratum, wanting to ask anyone if all are alright and well-taken cared off.

As the manager, you always found yourself feeling unsatisfied if even one of the players are not very comfortable with whatever it is that is under the guise of your job. Their cleats are a bit too uncomfortable? Your bad, you didn't pick the right cleats for them! Was the bedsheets a bit itchy? Oops, you did not di your job well to make it clean and spotless.

Sure, it was a lot of pressure, but you liked it. It made you feel useful, made you feel motivated, made you smile. Were you a masochist? Maybe, but if its for the betterment of the players, you were ready to do it. After all, the Blue Lockers, Ego and Anri were not the only ones dreaming for Japan to win the World Cup.

Putting your hair in a comfortable hairstyle, you entered the training field where you can see the Bastard Munchen players were running around the field, doing simulations and other strategical work that you could not help but be impressed with.

'Wow...the places where the players are are so fitting for their playstyles! That's Bastard Munchen for you! Very logical!'

A smile was on your face as your eyes followed where the ball was passed from player to player. Watching matches, practice or not, is always entertaining for you. The cogs in your mind spinning and turning, trying to connect and make sense with all the details and information your eyes can take in.

It always feels entertaining and freeing to do this. To spectate, to watch each player. Like you were the audience of an orchestra or a mastermind behind the pieces of a chessboard. Everything and everyone felt like they were within arm's reach, like you were a puppeteer choosing not to move the strings and instead, let your dolls move themselves.

But, you know that if you so much as wish to affect the game, you can.

"Do you see anything, Y/n?"

Almost jumping due to the shock, you turned to face the French master, Noel Noa, who looked at you curiously. You have been quite close with the master strikers in the facility, especially Noel Noa, who seemed to be quite fond of you, too, finding your nature and aura quite adorable. Maybe it was because you were quite young and still naive, or maybe it was because you were always so happy and excited to learn more about the sport, he did not know.

But, what he does know is you were a very precious kid he would like to take under his wing.

"Um, its just the usual I see, Noa-san. Nothing too big! Maybe its because its just practice..?"

You tilted your head, looking down on your notebook that had many doodles and notes you made throughout the week. There were doodles of the players and what they need to improve on. And well, you were more than happy to add more to the things you already totted down.

However, due to this, you did not really see the missed shot Kaiser did, while he trained his infamous Kaiser Impact again and again. Nor did you hear the shouts of some of the players about the incoming ball, or hell, even the shwip sound of the ball as it rushed through the air and went to where your head was.

So, to your surprise, when you find yourself blacking out for a second due to a hard force impacting on your forehead, that it made you sit on the floor. It hurt, yes, and you can feel the blood dripping from your nose, but the most dominant reaction you can feel is shock.

Meanwhile, the rest of the players, were not as calm as you were.

"Oi, Kaiser, you bastard! I'm gonna punt you!" Isagi shouted from the other side of the field as he stood up, ready to fight the German striker.

"Y/n-chan!! Are you okay?!" Hiori and Ness were the first ones to run to where you are, worried about your dazed expression.

"Kaiser. Laps around the field." Noa's eyes were slanted like a hawk, as he kneeled beside you, patting your head softly to comfort you a bit.

Kaiser, on the other hand, was the most petrified of all. He knows how much force his kick had, from experience and, of course, his own knowledge of his strength. And he was very much worried and shocked, blinking his blue eyes like he saw something very traumatising.

He didn't mean to. He knows he did nof. But that did not make him feel less bad. Especially since he hurt you of all people. The only person who was not rude to him, but also did not patronise him like a certain someone (ahem, Ness), even if he acted like a douche to you in the beginning of the Neo-Egoist League.

And also the fact that you weren't like him and the other players, who were used to receiving any loose ball that had hard and forceful impacts. But even then, he couldn't move fast enough to be the first one to make sure you were okay.

"Y/n-chan, where are you right now? What team and stratum are you in?" Yukimiya also was beside you, asking questions to make sure you didn't have a concussion or any brain damage. Thankfully, you answered all his questions quite well, and you didn't seem to be hurt at all. Just shocked and a bit sore from the impact, but nothing major.

"I'm fine, everyone. I wasn't just paying attention. Sorry, everyone. Sorry, Kaiser-"

"Why the fuck are you the one apologising? You were the one hurt!" Kaiser said out of nowhere, holding your shoulder as you blinked at the mini outburst he had. The blonde-haired man was panting, although not too heavily, it was still noticeable that he was heaving due to the rise and fall of his chest and shoulders.

At first, you thought it was because of the practice, but the worried look beneath the usual nonchalance in his eyes told you otherwise.

"U-uh...sorry- um no wait- I meant, its just because you got blamed for all of it when it was an accident and now you're in trouble."

"I don't give a crap about that. Just...just go to the damn clinic...make sure...you're not having a concussion or whatever."

Like a drunkard being poured cold water, Kaiser realized that you two were not the only people in the field, and that many eyes were watching. So, he retracted his arms and turned around, trying his best to hide the confusing mixture of worry and self-disappointment as he walked back to the field.

"Are you sure you're okay, Y/n-chan?" Isagi asked as he sat beside you, Kurona sitting on your other side ontop of the clinic bed as some of the Bastard Munchen players stood infront of you, also wanting to make sure you were okay.

"Yeah, I'm fine. This is nothing."

"If you say so, but if you feel dizzy or just if anything is wrong, tell us immediately." Yukimiya said he held the ice pack to where the ball hit, while you wiped the excess blood from your nose.

"Yeah, yeah! Its bad to hold back what you're feeling." Kurona added, while Hiori was just quiet as he gave you your stuff, placing it on the desk beside the bed.

Meanwhile, Kaiser and Ness also stood beside you, Ness, along the worried ones as he patted your head softly, hopeful that it might help in some way, shape or form. Meanwhile, Kaiser and Isagi were already starting to argue, Isagi telling Kaiser to becareful next time and Kaiser being on the defensive as the two threw roast upon roast against each other.

"Your blindass is so rich, you can't even buy sports glasses? Even Yukimiya is responsible enough to do that!"

"Oh, please. I'm blind? You're fucking senseless."

The rest of players, well except for Ness who was fully supporting and backing up Kaiser, just watched with done and dotted eyes.

"Jesus, they never shut up, huh?" Hiori rolled his eyes.

"Yeah. Theyre too, too intense sometimes." Kurona added as finally, Yukimiya sighed and gave his polite smile.

"I think thats enough for today, you two. Y/n-chan needs her peace and quiet to recover."

ADDITIONAL TIME!

BARCHA

"Bachira!! We can't!!" Kitsunezato said as he tried to stop the said striker from walking out.

"Yeah, you know that Lavinho-san won't like it." Hayate added, but Bachira was far from listening.

"NO! I need to see if Y/n-chan's okay!! I'll beat that German up the next time I see him!!"

"Please, don't- C'mon Otoya! Help us out here!" But, unfortunately for them, Otoya was somewhat agreeing to what the brown and blonde haired striker was saying and Kitsunezato sensing this, immediately prayed to whatever god there was, and even better plead to Otoya, himself.

"Oh god, please don't! We have enough with Bachira here! It was an accident!"

"But there is no accident when it comes to Y/n-chan being hurt!!" Bachira fought back.

"I agree-"

"Shut the hell up, Otoya!"

MANSHINE CITY

"WHAT?! Is she okay?!" Reo panicked when he heard the news.

"I swear, its always those from Bastard. What the hell is even happening in that stratum?" Chigiri said with annoyance and worry. Why does chaos always happen in that stratum he wondered.

"Y/n-chan...is she better now?" Nagi, commented from his bed, eyes abnormally wide, like a cat roused from its sleep by a predator.

"Yeah, I heard she's fine. She didn't have any serious concussion anything, which is lucky for all of us! She just needs to rest earlier today, but she will still be able to do her duties tomorrow!" The red-haired said, repeating what he heard from Isagi.

"Good. I kind of feel bad but happy at the same time. I want her to rest, but at the same time I want her to keep working so we can see her again tomorrow." Reo admitted, his back plopping on his bed, purple eyes looking up at the ceiling lights.

"I don't want Y/n-chan to be replaced as our manager, ever..."

"I don't think anyone in here wants that to happen at all, Nagi."

UBERS

"I should've kicked a ball straight to that Kaiser's face when I had the chance."

"That is a red card, Barou, but I don't even think I would stop you. Go wild." Niko sighed. The Ubers players just heard of the news and most of them were not happu with what they heard.

"Poor Y/n-chan, that has to hurt. I remember the first time I got hit on the face, and I'm a defender so I'm used to that! But she isn't even a player." Oliver said, cringing at the thought of being hit by a ball, much less from someone of Kaiser's calibre.

"Damn straight! And those useless peasants couldn't even protect her from those guys. Those damn donkeys." Barou said, his mind towards a specific raven-haired striker that he knew was not only his main rival, but also the main rival of Kaiser and hence why, he believed he was the most responsible for you not managing to avoid the ball in time.

PXG

"Charles! We're training that new move we're planning to make it better and make it hurt for our match with those Germans!" Shidou said, clearly pissed off at the news. The French midfielder only nodded his head, cheering along with the pink-haired striker.

"Fucking lukewarms, you should do it secretly not infront of the many cameras around this damned facility." Rin rolled his eyes, even he wasn't impressed when he heard that you got injured, much less bleeding!

"For the first time, you didn't say anything dumb, Rin-rin. You heard him Charles! We're going to meet up with that German bastard!"

"Yay! Yay! We're gonna avenge Y/n!"

But unfortunately for them, and fortunately for everyone else, Karasu was there to stop the two, holding the scruff of their uniforms immediately.

"Now, now. As much as I also want to square up on that guy, we can't go monster against his ass or do you wanna be electrocuted again, Shidou?"

The blonde and pink haired striker blinked at that and finally shrugged.

"We'll just have to beat them in the upcoming games. So, ya'll better train hard." Karasu said with finality as he headed to his room with the other Blue Lock players, and that idea did not sound bad at all in Rin, Shidou and even Charles' ears.

I hope you guys liked this one! This was supposed to be fun but it turned into some sort of twisted Kaiser angst piece lolol

Blue Lock is WRITTEN by Kaneshiro Muneyuki and ILLUSTRATED by Nomura Yusuke. All credits to the both of them.

[martanis]

⊹₊⟡ Galadriel + Elrond, Arondir and Gil-galad in The Rings of Power ♡ 2.08 "Shadow and Flame"

[tsuy4n]

The Artist Who Lives for the Plot

Warning/s: Fem!Reader, Mild language/swearing, still chaotic, teasing but that's just another word for verbal bullying, petty drama, reader still very much suffering (comically)

[A/n]: Okay, so apparently my calculations were off (nothing new to me) with how things are going and how much fun I'm writing the boys + [Y/n], this will become a short series!

Part 1, >Part 2<

Day 3: Five Failures, Zero Progress

You're on your way to work, absolutely dreading what lies ahead. Not the chores, not the endless hours of running errands, but them: The five walking demonic migraines with unholy cheekbones.

They were chaotic yesterday. All sharp grins and cryptic words, eyes gleaming like they knew something you didn’t.

What changed? You didn’t do anything. That, you're sure of. So why the hell are they suddenly breathing down your neck like you owe them your soul? (Which, considering who they are, might actually be on the table.)

Are they acting like this because you saw something you shouldn't have?

Like that concept. Was it supposed to be a secret? They didn’t react like you expected. No panic. No anger. Then again, you didn’t exactly study their expressions too hard. Priorities.

Still, the sight’s fresh in your mind. The holograms. The glowing golden eyes. That haunting yet stunning transformation. Whoever came up with that deserves a raise. You want those contacts. Seriously.

Focus. So what exactly did you do to earn their torment?

...Maybe their whole demon concept isn’t even a concept. Maybe it’s just them being themselves. It wouldn’t surprise you if they casually peeled off their skin one day and revealed horns underneath.

You’d arm yourself with holy water and crosses. Even if it doesn't work, at least you tried.

You sigh. The regular chaos of your job is already exhausting. You didn’t sign up to be personally targeted by five beautiful men with bad attitudes and possible hellspawn origins.

Still, you can’t deny the silver lining. Your last three chapters? A hit with your readers/audience.

With the extra income, rent is looking less like a nightmare and more like a minor inconvenience. You might even treat yourself to a pastry.

So, the plan for today is simple: Avoid them at all costs. Have another staff member deliver their water and lunch. Easy. Professional. Peaceful.

Elsewhere…

"She could be with Huntrix." Jinu mutters, arms crossed and brows furrowed.

"Or maybe she’s just weird." Baby says with a raised brow before flopping lazily into a chair. He's so convinced that you are.

Abby crosses his arms. "Or she’s spying for someone else. A lone agent." (He’s been watching too many shows)

Romance taps his chin thoughtfully. "Or a real artist, like she says. She does draw well for a spy."

Mystery, from where he’s crouched on the couch upside down, simply says, "What if she just takes her job seriously?"

The silence that follows is long. Suspiciously long.

Jinu sighs. "I'm sure you've all memorized the choreography enough. Let's take turns watching her and while you're at it, try to get that book. That'll help us clear this whole situation up."

At first, the boys think he’s giving them a free day. A chance to sleep. Eat. Breathe without glitter(?)

But he just kept speaking.

"So who wants to go first?" Jinu smiles, his teeth showing.

They groan in unison.

Instead of practicing, they spent the entire morning arguing over who goes first, then next, and all the way to the last. They eye each other like enemies before throwing down their hands in a dramatic round of rock, paper, scissors.

Mystery wins by default because he doesn’t even participate and somehow still gets the slot he wanted. Classic.

By lunch, they’ve just finalized the schedule when the rehearsal room door swings open.

"Hello! Here’s your lunch." A voice calls cheerfully causing for heads to whip toward the unfamiliar staff member.

"Where’s the other noona? The one who’s been bringing our food these last two days?" Baby asks politely all while flashing a disarming smile.

The staff member nearly swoons. "She asked me to take over today. Said she had errands."

Suspicious. They all thought.

Suspicious enough that the unlucky member with the first shift, Romance, rises like a man sentenced.

It doesn’t take Romance long to find you. A few smooth questions to the right people and a tilt of his smile does the trick.

He spots you sweeping the floor backstage, earbuds in, completely immersed in your own world, just vibing and enjoying your well-deserved peace not knowing it'll be disturbed within a minute.

Romance watches for a beat. Then two. There’s something about your concentration that makes him pause but it was only for a moment.

He approaches, hands in his pockets, leaning slightly with a soft, teasing smile. "Need help with that, darling? Or should I stand here and give you moral support while you sweep?"

You don't notice him at first, too focused or immersed and he noticed that because he took one of your earbuds off.

You thought at first it was a fellow staff member or maybe the manager but what you saw immediately made you scowl.

Really? It hasn't even been an hour!

Romance laughed at the expression you gave him, though he was clearly confused as to why you weren’t already swooning at his smile.

You snatched your earbud from his hand, brows furrowed. "You can help by not shedding glitter everywhere. That’d save me a lot of time."

He chuckled under his breath, undeterred. "Feisty. I like that."

You glanced at him, eyes narrowing like you were debating whether to smack that annoyingly symmetrical face with a broom.

Okay, maybe not the face. It was too reference-coded. But still. You’d aim for the shoulder.

"If you’re not gonna help, move. I’m on a schedule." You glared at him. Stupid pretty boys.

"So serious." He mused, but stepped aside anyway... only to linger. Watching. Following. Breathing near you like some sparkly parasite.

At one point, you dropped the broom to pick up a fallen costume prop: a foam trident.

You didn’t even look at him, too wrapped in your own world as you twirled it absentmindedly like some battle-hardened warrior preparing to train.

Romance watches, both amused and... vaguely alarmed. That twirl was a little too natural that he forgot about getting something.

When he felt like he's been following her for hours, he returned to the others and he doesn’t even flinch when Abby asks, "So? How'd it go?"

"I couldn't get it." Romance's answer made them sigh. They did honestly think it’ll only take him to get that book (sketchbook).

He didn't tell them about forgetting the original agenda, only that, "She was practicing how she’ll strike us. With a trident."

"What?!" Jinu chokes on his drink as he immediately thought, What kind of a human owns a trident? What the hell are you.

"What kind of trident?" Mystery asks calmly with a little tilt of his head.

"Foam." Romance replied so seriously. "She spun it like she meant business. And also called me a walking arts-and-crafts hazard."

They exchanged glances. Why didn't he choose to say the 'foam' part first? And what was that him being a walking arts thing...?

Failure #1

Baby’s turn begins with him stuffing his pockets with snacks. If he was going to tail someone, he might as well do it on a full stomach.

He finds you in one of the dressing rooms, sorting wigs and costume pieces into bins. It's boring work, but you're doing it with focus, just enough for Baby to slip into the room quietly.

Too quietly.

He slinks around, crouched low like some stealth agent, until he accidentally knocks over a mannequin arm. It hits the floor with a loud clack.

You jump. So does he.

Your eyes narrow instantly when you see him. "Why are you crouching like that?"

Baby straightens up and shrugs, trying to play it cool. "Stretching. Back pain. Old injury."

You look him up and down, unconvinced because you should be the one saying that. He's acting like it wasn't just yesterday that he was messing with you by littering all the things you just cleaned up, like some fucking cat.

"Huh, this box? Woops! I’m so sorry, noona." That’s exactly what he’d say, eyes wide and fake-innocent, like some baby deer with unresolved mischief issues.

And every time he said it, it made your skin crawl.

Not because of the word itself. No, you could handle "noona." You weren’t even that much older.

Actually, you were pretty sure you were the same age as him, maybe even younger than some of the others. But Baby said it with that tone.

That smug, cheeky little lilt that made it feel less like respect and more like a personal attack.

You did find him cute. Objectively.

But his whole existence had the chaotic energy of someone who knew he was cute and used it for evil.

And unfortunately for him, charm loses its effectiveness when paired with the urge to throw him out a window.

And here he is, grinning mischievously. "You know, your work ethic is really inspiring. Sorting wigs with that kind of passion? Sexy."

You squint at him like you're debating whether to hit him with the mannequin arm or the whole stand. That sounds so good, so self-healing after what you went through.

You felt like an old woman trying to crack her back when walking.

You let out a sigh through your nose before continuing on with doing your task while Baby walks closer.

You glance at him. "You remind me of my friend’s cat. Always knocking things over and demanding attention." 

Before he can respond, you pat his head, scratch gently under his chin, and walk past him like he’s just another prop to fix the mannequin's arm back in.

He’s frozen. Processing.

A full minute later, he’s still standing there, blinking and you're already done with the tasks here in the room.

"I’m not wasting precious brain cells on a live-action reminder that pretty doesn’t mean functional." You raise a brow at him while picking up a box. "Unlike you all, who have so much free time to pester me, I'm busy doing my actual job."

Baby finally snapped out of it when he saw you step out though before taking your leave completely, he heard you speak again in a demanding tone like you were a parent warning its 7 year old naughty kid.

"Go back to your little posse, alley cat." You said, eyes half-lidded as you smirked. "Don’t you have hair to flip and raccoons to fight behind a 7-Eleven?"

Back at the room, Baby slumps onto the couch with a huff. What happened repeated in his head like a player.

"She called me a cat. Not in a hot, aloof way, but a stray." He then adds, "Like the kind that gets into turf wars with raccoons behind a 7-Eleven.”

That was what all he reported to the others earning funny stares, plus a disappointed but intrigued Jinu.

Like Romance, he didn’t even get to ask about the damn book. He didn't actually had any chance to use half of his charms because one moment you're being playful then next you're roasting him like a bunch of coffee beans.

He may have forgot his original goal, at least he now has something new and that is swearing to make you swoon just like those other simple humans.

And that he agreed with his pink haired friend, who was the 1st victim.

Failure #2

You felt being watched. No, actually you 'are' being watched but by who?

You looked around, scanning the storage room. Empty. Still. Dusty. Dim. So either someone was lurking, or this place was haunted and your will to live had just expired on the spot.

You took one cautious step toward the door.

And then, Mystery appeared from behind a shelf like a summoned spirit. Just standing there. Silent.

"Shibal—!"

You jumped so hard you slipped, tripped over a box, and crashed to the floor in a glorious symphony of clatter and cardboard.

Mystery blinked then tilted his head slightly. "You startle easily."

You coughed once, sneezed from the dust, then squinted through a half-hearted glare. "You appeared like a ghost."

No apology. Not even a hand to help you up. Just that unreadable face and deadpan tone, like he wasn’t the reason you were now covered in packing peanuts and shame.

Though, his gaze didn’t seem malicious...just mildly unsettling. You were 85% sure he was judging you from under all that hair.

You pushed yourself up with a sigh, brushing off your pants like your pride hadn’t just taken a fatal blow.

But of course he didn’t. You’d already finished cleaning up. Again. You cleaned things up a lot these days, thanks to a certain someone and his espresso-fueled vendettas.

You turned your head to glare at Mister Human Equivalent of Dead Air, who blinked slowly. Unbothered. Possibly proud.

"You’re worse than the cockroach I found in the kitchen yesterday."

He hummed, completely unfazed. "Cockroaches don’t scream."

Unbelievable.

"Do you guys have a group chat where you plan this? Like, ‘let’s go bother the new hardworking staff girl’?" Your arms were crossed, your expression demanding answers.

"Book." Was all he said in return.

You blinked. Your brain lagged like bad Wi-Fi. What book?

And is that really all he had to say after standing there for a solid thirty minutes in monk-level silence?

"The one you always have your nose in." He added after a beat, still blank-faced. At least that's what you feel.

"...Is this whole bothering-me thing about that?"

He nodded once. You call bullshit—but also, maybe there’s hope?

"You mean my sketchbook?"

Another nod. You stared at him. Did this guy have a word quota? Was he conserving syllables for his vocal lines?

"If I gave you that, would all of you stop pestering me?"

He didn’t answer. At least not immediately. Just stood there, matching your stare, the silence stretching between you like a rope ready to snap.

You sighed, then gave him a smile. And for one brief, shimmering second, Mystery thought he’d won. Maybe you liked him best.

Maybe you had a thing for the quiet ones—the cryptic, brooding types who linger like ghost drafts in haunted castles.

Jinu did say people had different tastes in idols. Like food—

"No."

...Or not.

Silence dropped again, thick as concrete, before you squinted and spoke.

"What makes you think I’d entrust something of mine to you, or any of you?" you asked. "If you’re all worried I’m drawing you in ‘suspicious’ ways, don’t flatter yourselves. You’re just references."

You stomped past him with all the grace of a woman wronged, then spun back on your heel.

"Actually, scratch that. You should be worried." You jabbed a finger in his direction. "I will draw all of you in suspicious ways. And when you debut? I’ll post it."

You narrowed your eyes. As always, it was impossible to tell what Mystery was thinking, but that didn’t matter. You were confident.

You were an artist. You had the power to draw this stupid boyband making out with each other in watercolor and full shading without feeling an ounce of shame.

They, however, would never recover.

"You better think twice about bothering me now! Tell them that." Then you ran, like a child who knew they’d just poked a beehive and needed to disappear before the stingers caught up.

Back with the group, Mystery returned and stood in front of the others.

"So?" Jinu asked, arms crossed. Behind him, Romance and Baby leaned in, already bracing themselves. Whatever you’d said must’ve rewired something.

Maybe broke a few brain cells on the way out.

"She organizes her materials very efficiently." Mystery said, nodding like he was delivering critical intel to a war council.

Romance blinked. "That’s what you got?"

Baby, now sprawled across the couch with a juice box, snorted. "Told you."

Jinu pinched the bridge of his nose. "Did you at least get the sketchbook?"

Mystery shook his head.

Of course not.

Jinu sighed. At this point, he wasn’t sure if they were failing—or if you were simply immune to all known forms of charm, charisma, and supernatural bullshit.

Romance muttered something about foam weapons. Baby muttered something about alley cats.

And somewhere in the room, a collective ego quietly combusted.

Failure #3.

You volunteered to run an errand. A simple supply run. A chance to breathe.

Sure, you had your suspicions that the boys were taking turns tailing you. Mystery had confirmed it earlier with a thirty-minute silent staring contest that ended in zero answers.

Romance tried to flirt like he’d read one too many bad webtoons. Baby? You mistook him for a stray cat and nearly offered him tuna.

So today? You were ready. You had an escape. Or so you thought...

You regretted everything the second you stepped outside. Why? Because the universe sent you Abby.

Of course, it had to be him. The walking thirst trap of the group.

The one with annoyingly perfect hair, annoying abs, and the kind of face that probably got sculpted by the devil himself on a good day. Because of course.

He was walking beside you like it was nothing. Like he wasn’t single-handedly making people turn their heads from left to right.

And don’t even get started on his stupid shirt. Why the hell is it riding up every few minutes?

Is the universe trying to humble you?

Is nature in on this too? That one breeze that made his shirt lift just enough to show off those abs? It wasn’t a coincidence. That was a divine betrayal.

And of course, he saw you staring. He smirked.

"I saw that." He says, voice low and smug. "Like what you see, sweetheart?"

You groan. "I was looking at the crime against fashion you’re wearing."

He places a hand dramatically on his chest. "You wound me."

You roll your eyes so hard it nearly gives you vertigo. Still, this… wasn’t the worst. At least they weren’t swarming you like yesterday. With them taking turns now, it was more manageable.

"You know," Abby starts, hands behind his head as you walk down the street together, "I think I should be the one to keep you company more often. You seem calmer with me. Maybe even a little... interested."

You stop walking and give him the most deadpan look you can muster. "I was calm because I thought I was alone."

Ouch

But Abby, as always, doesn’t take the loss. He leans closer, lowering his sunglasses with a grin. "Come on, just give me the sketchbook. You like me the most, right?"

You tilt your head and pretend to consider it. "Let’s see..."

Then you dramatically slap a hand over your heart.

"Oh no." You gasp sarcastically. "My deepest secret! How did you know I fall for guys who flex their abs at me like it’s still 2012 Tumblr?"

That gets a crack in his confident grin. Inside, he's genuinely confused. What does that mean??

You pat his arm like you're speaking to someone tragically misguided. "Listen, I’ve drawn more abs than I’ve touched in real life. Yours aren’t special. They’re just... reference material."

Abby chokes on nothing. "Reference material?!"

You give him a cheeky smile. "Yeah. The kind I toss into the 'basic male idol' folder."

You start walking again, casually leaving him in the dust. He stands there, looking scandalized.

Back at the dorm, he slumps into the chair dramatically, hand over his heart.

"She called me basic, and made me carry everything." He mutters, defeated and tired just like the last 2 (Baby & Romance) who returned earlier.

"So she didn’t give you the sketchbook?" Jinu asks, already knowing the answer.

Abby sighs, deeply. "I think she drew a whole new character in her mind just to insult me."

Failure #4

That leaves Jinu, their last hope of getting that sketchbook before the day ends.

"We're counting on you, lead~!" Baby teased with a grin too smug for his own good. His voice dipped into mock aegyo as he winked.

The beef he had with Jinu wasn’t subtle; something about being 'the cute one' when he’d rather be anything else.

It didn’t help that Jinu never really fought back, just smiled like he had better things to do than argue with someone who collected Hello Kitty bandaids.

You, meanwhile, were clocking out. Finally.

Work was done. The sun was down. The universe had tested your patience in every possible way. A hot bath and unconsciousness were the only plans on your mind until he showed up.

"Happy that work’s over, huh?"

You didn’t even need to look to know who it was.

"Obviously." You huffed then rolled of your eyes. "Wouldn’t you be if a bunch of demon-spawn kept finding new ways to test your will to live?"

"…Is that a general insult or something more specific?"

His question made you gave him a look like you were hinting at the obvious.

"Fair." He said with a chuckle.

He walked beside you without asking. Just far enough not to be annoying. Just close enough to be impossible to ignore.

“Wanna grab dinner?”

You blinked then gave him a side-eye. "What makes you think I’d say yes? Is this another one of your weird group rituals where someone jumps out of a trash can to scare me?"

"I said dinner, not a prank war. It’s my treat." He said, hands up in mock surrender. "No one else will be there. Consider it… an apology. For the chaos they’ve put you through."

You raised a brow. "And you’re suddenly the nice one?"

"I never said that," He replied smoothly. "But I do know when to offer compensation."

You thought about it. He hadn’t stepped in earlier, sure, but maybe he wasn’t completely awful. And free food was free food.

You were broke, your fridge was empty, and a meal you didn’t have to cook yourself was a rare form of heaven.

So you said yes.

The place he brought you to wasn’t flashy. A quiet diner tucked away from the noise. Warm lights. Old booths. You ordered too much and pretended not to care.

"You know," Jinu said mid-meal. "I kind of expected you to throw your drink in my face."

"You still might deserve it," You said between bites. "Depends how this conversation goes."

He smiled, his chin resting on his hand as he watched you. You noticed, of course. But instead of reacting, you stayed calm, indifferent, even.

As if you weren’t being quietly studied by a man who looked like he'd walked off a runway.

"You always like this?" You asked with a raised brow. "Weirdly smooth one second, annoying the next?"

He smirked at you. "It’s a learned skill. Keeps people guessing."

"You’re not that hard to figure out." You deadpanned with a slight tilt of your head. "You’re probably the most normal one out of your group. Still a menace, though."

Jinu laughed. Just the short type. "That almost sounded like a compliment."

You stared at him then replied in a monotonous voice, "It wasn’t."

He chuckled, and the conversation settled into something surprisingly... normal.

Eventually, you talked about things you didn’t usually mention to strangers—about the pressure of pretending, of being exhausted all the time and not knowing how to admit it.

About how expectations from others wear you down until all you want to do is disappear.

At some point, maybe out of tired habit or plain honesty, you even muttered something about 'your demons whispering to you late at night.' You meant it figuratively, of course.

But the way Jinu blinked once, slow and calculating made you wonder if he thought otherwise. Like you’d just triggered something serious.

He didn’t ask. Just nodded and let it go. But you caught it: the subtle shift in his gaze, that flicker of recognition. Whatever he was thinking, it didn’t feel like nothing.

Still, he listened. Not with empty nods, but like he got it. Not everything, but enough.

And... that felt nice. It's been a while since you had someone to talk to about things you can relate. Your friends were busy and when they try to invite you to hangout, you're the one who has a pack sched instead.

When you got home later that night, sketchbook still tucked away where no one would ever find it, you let yourself sink into bed and stared at the ceiling.

Maybe Jinu wasn’t so bad. Not like the rest of his chaos crew. He's become 'just alright guy' to you.

Meanwhile, Jinu returned to the place they all stayed while living in the human world—a sleek apartment tucked above the city skyline, equal parts expensive and lived-in.

The others were scattered across the living room, feigning disinterest while clearly listening.

Abby was the first to ask. "So? How’d yours go?"

Jinu kicked off his shoes and shrugged, hands in his pockets. "No sketchbook. But I think she let her guard down."

That got their attention.

"She’s easier to talk to when you’re not pushing her buttons. Maybe try not teasing her to death next time." He added, giving Romance a pointed glance though his eyes definitely slid to Abby and Baby too.

Not that any of those three looked the least bit guilty.

Baby made a dramatic noise of betrayal when he realized something, his eyes squinting. "So you’re the favorite now?"

Jinu didn’t rise to it. Just smiled, smug even.

"If we earn even a little of her trust, that book’s as good as ours."

And judging by the way he looked quietly satisfied, it was clear their leader had a plan—and maybe, just maybe, it was already working.

Failure #5 (losers)

Day 4: Pretty Privilege Denied

At the rehearsal room...

"This is such a pain." Baby groaned as he dramatically flopped backwards onto the couch like he’d just carried the entire K-pop industry on his back. "Why can’t we just take the stupid sketchbook already?"

He tossed a bag of chips across the room. It missed the trash can by a full foot. No one corrected him.

"Right?" Abby stretched his arms behind his head, flashing abs like it was part of the punctuation. "We’re wasting time doing solo missions. What if we all just... I dunno, ask at once? Overwhelm her with our combined perfection."

Romance was already nodding, a smirk playing at his lips. "Like an idol intervention."

Mystery, curled on the floor beside the couch, mumbled faintly, "She’ll resist. She always resists."

"Because you just stood there and stared at her for thirty minutes." Baby snapped with a roll of his eyes. "That’s not a plan, that’s a horror movie."

"I was being... silent but effective." Mystery defended weakly, hugging a pillow with the dead-eyed conviction of a man who hadn’t blinked in an hour.

Baby didn’t bother looking at him. He just sighed and reached for his lip tint, applying it with a kind of weary elegance that suggested everyone else in the room was the problem.

"I don’t get why you all can’t just manipulate her like normal people." Baby muttered, popping a strawberry flavored lollipop in his mouth.

Like a fucking Bond villain in silk pajamas.

He next adds, "Look adorable, be sweet, and wait. She’ll fold eventually. Humans are weak to affection and eye contact."

Romance blinked. "You think this is adorable?"

"I think this is inefficient." Baby said flatly, glancing at his nails like he was bored of everyone's incompetence. "She clearly likes attention. She breathes like someone who wants to be perceived."

Abby froze mid-sip of his fruit shake. "You said that out loud."

"Good." Baby replied, unbothered, swiping through his front camera to check his angles. "I hope the wind carries it to her. Maybe it’ll reach her ego first."

There was a moment of stunned silence.

"…You scare me sometimes." Abby muttered, rubbing the back of his neck like he was rethinking his life choices.

Jinu, to no one’s surprise, wasn’t in the room for this beautifully misguided planning session. He was allegedly "doing leader things," which in practice meant "ignoring all of them for his own sanity."

Which meant the rest of them were unsupervised.

Because in the next five minutes, fueled by ego, caffeine, and deep, mutual frustration, they came up with the worst idea possible:

"We’ll confront her together," Romance declared, sparkles practically glinting in his eyes. Mischief, too.

"Like a sketchbook heist?" Abby grinned. They high-fived, because of course they did.

"No," Baby corrected, sitting upright like a cat that’d just heard a can opener. "Like a coordinated idol strike."

Mystery nodded solemnly. "A synchronized emotional ambush."

"…That’s literally just stalking in unison." Someone muttered upon realization but no one listened. Not that it even mattered to beings like them.

And with that, four immortals in idol skin decided to do what no sane being should ever attempt: gang up on one overworked staff girl who already hated their collective existence.

Because why not? What could possibly go wrong?

-

Somewhere...

Jinu had always known patience was the real game. You don’t survive four centuries being impulsive. So when his members started treating [Y/n] like a raid boss with a lootable sketchbook, he didn’t intervene.

He watched. Waited. Calculated. And then last night happened.

Dinner wasn’t supposed to go that well. He figured she’d make it halfway through the meal, throw a napkin in his face, and storm out. But she didn’t. She talked.

And somewhere between the second plate and her muttering about "demons whispering at night," something in him stilled. That wasn’t normal small talk. And it sure as hell wasn’t nothing.

She either didn’t realize what she said, or she did, and didn’t care. Either way, Jinu recognized the weight of it. The strange, dangerous truth humming just beneath her words.

So yeah. He was interested now. Not just in the sketchbook. In her.

Which is why, this morning, he changed tactics.

She’d let her guard down. That meant it was time to keep her guessing. Balance the scale. Tip it, just enough to rattle her.

Cue: pettiness mode.

She thought last night was a truce? Fine. Let her believe that. Then let her walk face-first into his brand of passive-aggressive hell. Just enough to make her question herself. Her instincts. Him.

If they were going to win this sketchbook war, she needed to be off-balance. And Jinu was going to enjoy every second of it.

So when he saw her coming down the sidewalk with coffee in hand, face still half-asleep and blessedly peaceful, he held the door open.

Then let it close. Right as she reached it. Perfect.

...

You were already tired.

Not physically—not yet. Just spiritually. Which was impressive, given the day had barely started.

But then again, surviving a full shift surrounded by glitter-dusted demon boys could rattle anyone’s soul.

Still. Today would be different. It had to be.

You saw the studio door ahead, sweet salvation in view, and picked up your pace.

And then, of course. It was him.

Jinu. Holding the door like he was doing you a favor. Like he hadn’t spent last night pretending to be a decent person.

He let it shut before you even touched the handle.

It was official. The man had a switch, and you were done trying to figure out which position it was stuck on. You stopped. Stared, then narrowed your eyes as the door clicked shut with smug finality.

Why the hell was he acting like this now?

Maybe he’d decided to be just as unbearable as his idiot members. Or maybe he realized being nice wasn’t getting him your sketchbook.

Or maybe, just maybe, he woke up and chose violence. With iced coffee.

What happened last night? Too good to be true. You were stupid to think otherwise.

Jinu turned his head, smiling like a summer villain in a drama. "Oh? I thought you weren’t coming. My bad."

Your eye twitched as you smiled politely. Violence is a choice. "You saw me walking straight here."

"I see a lot of things." He said vaguely, stepping inside and letting the door stay closed behind him.

You yanked it open with more force than necessary after tapping your id and followed him in, already regretting clocking in today. If HR asked why the break room window was shattered later, this was why.

You tried to brush it off. Keep walking. You had your sketchbook in hand, a long list of things to prep, and exactly zero energy to spare on whatever weird game he was playing now.

And then—

"Good morning, hardworking staff member," Jinu said with the fakest earnestness you’d ever heard, falling into step beside you. "Did you sleep well on your commoner bed?"

You stopped in your tracks, your mouth agape while your brain buffered.

"…What," You said slowly, letting the words drag like a system error. "What did you just say to me?"

Was flabbergasted the right word? Because honestly, that didn’t even scratch the surface. You were spiritually winded. Like you’d just been slapped with a Gucci slipper made of pure ego.

Jinu, the absolute menace, took a delicate sip of his artisanal coffee and smiled. That same saintly, beatific smile that made you want to throw a chair.

"I heard those floor mattresses are terrible for your posture."

You blinked at him. Hard. "You think I sleep on the floor?"

He raised a brow, so effortlessly smug. "Don’t you?"

Oh, okay. So this was the level of unhinged we were on today.

You stared at him, soul leaving your body one judgmental breath at a time. What was wrong with him? What was wrong with all of them? Did they audition to be idols or audition to test your will to live?

Because right now, you were genuinely convinced the universe had assigned you to a group of sleep-paralysis demons with backup dancer skills.

He stared back, calm and composed, like the human embodiment of a rice paper screen: pretty, delicate, and annoyingly hard to punch without consequences.

The silence stretched long enough for you to seriously consider hitting him with your sketchbook.

You turned and walked faster. He followed. He wasn’t done.

"You know," He said, all airy and unbothered, "I heard stress causes wrinkles. You might want to be careful."

"Great." You deadpanned. "Can I borrow your skincare then? I assume it’s made from crushed angel wings and virgin moonlight."

He laughed softly. Like you were joking. You were not.

You reached your desk, set your things down with a sigh, and frowned. Your pencil bag wasn’t where you left it.

You squinted and searched. There it was, off to the right by a few inches. You didn’t leave it like that. You were sure.

"…Did someone move my stuff?"

Behind you, Jinu shrugged with the grace of a lying cat. "Maybe the ghosts like you."

You turned slowly, narrowed your eyes. He was already walking away, sipping his cursed latte like he hadn’t just kicked your entire sense of peace in the kneecaps.

And the worst part? You knew this wasn’t even the peak of his pettiness. This was the prelude. The overture. The trailer before the disaster film.

You swore if he did this one more time, you were going to draw him as a worm in a luxury bathrobe. And that was being generous.

-

Dear god.

You tried to hide.

Not from your work, that would be irresponsible, but from the boyband plague that had decided to infest every corner of your daily life like glitter-coated cockroaches with jawlines.

Storage room? Mystery was already inside when you flicked the light on, calmly leaning against a shelf like he was part of the cleaning supplies.

You screamed and that earned a few pair of eyes from fellow staff members to see what's happened while Mystery just blinked.

Just fucking that. Like he wouldn't be the reason for you having a heart attack at such a young age.

"I was just watching the broom." He said solemnly.

Deja vu.

Toilet break? You exited the staff restroom to find Romance waiting by the door with a smile so charming it should’ve been a crime.

"Did you miss me?" He asked with a little tilt of his head. How cute. Like that was supposed to work on you.

You stared back, deadpan. "Did you follow me to the bathroom?"

"No." He said too fast. Then added, "I was just… in the area."

You folded your arms, unimpressed. "Of the women’s restroom?"

"…Geographically."

You shook your head then walked past him. He followed. Damn it.

Lunch break? You were five feet from the vending machine when Abby materialized from nowhere, leaned casually against it, and held out a protein bar.

"Hungry?" He asked with a wink.

You stared, the same dead-eyed stare you gave Romance. At this point, you were immune. Beyond exhausted. Somewhere between "please stop" and "God, just smite me."

"Are you seriously trying to flirt with trail mix?"

He grinned. Handsome bastard #3. "It’s high in fiber."

You almost growled at him like a fucking wolf. "I hate you."

Coffee break? You escaped the building. You escaped the chaos. You made it to your favorite shop. You ordered your drink, basked in a moment of peace.

You shouldn't have turned around.

"Hi." Jinu said, already holding out a matching iced Americano.

You didn’t blink. Yeah, at this point you wouldn't even be surprised if you suddenly moved countries and their striking asses are 'suddenly' there, too.

Which leads you to a thought: Are they even after your sketchbook or other things? Did they fall for you and became obsessed with you like in those webtoons?

Pfft. Yeah, right. You must've lost it there for a second.

You blankly stared at Mister royalty-wannabe. What he said about your bed being a commoner's really got to you. It looks like you weren't the only one who can burn people like toast.

Jinu watches you space out. Poor you, not that he actually cares and that smile on his stupidly handsome face was enough to tell a tale.

"I’ll trade you this premium Americano for a peek at your sketchbook." He offered smoothly, breaking you out of your thoughts.

You stared him down then reached out, took the coffee from his hand, and said in a monotone voice: "Thanks."

He didn't see the smirk on your face as you walked away, simply enjoying your drink. Ah, it feels good to taste victory. An expensive one at that.

Meanwhile Jinu just stood there, betrayed.

"That was a limited roast." He muttered to which you heard as you raised the drink like a trophy.

No peace. No privacy. And definitely no sanity.

But if they thought this was going to make you fold, they were sorely mistaken.

You had pens, paper, and spite.

Let them try.

Later that day, the practice room was supposed to be empty.

Keyword: supposed.

You walked in with your sketchbook tucked under your arm and your emotional shields fully charged, only to freeze when you saw them. All of them.

Oh, god. The dread. The disgust. The divine urge to U-turn right back out the door. As much as you liked the sights of their faces, you could go one fucking day without seeing them.

There were other inspirations in the world, like sewer rats. Or tax documents.

You looked at them, judging, and they could tell. Your judgment wasn’t subtle. It had volume. Weight. A spiritual glare.

Romance on the window sill like a tragically bored novel character. Baby draped over the couch like a spoiled cat who owned the lease.

Abby standing behind the couch, peering over Baby’s shoulder and silently judging whatever cursed content he was watching.

Mystery sitting upside down in a chair like a sentient cryptid. And Jinu by the mirror, sipping coffee and watching like a smug, beautiful stage mom directing chaos.

You stared. They stared back.

"…What." You said flatly.

Baby was first to speak, tossing you his best faux-innocent smile. "We just wanted to hang out."

You squinted. "All five of you. In one room. Together. Unscheduled."

Baby was first to speak, tossing you his best faux-innocent smile. "We just wanted to hang out.”

You squinted. "All five of you. In one room. Together. With no cameras. No choreo. No staff instructions. Just… existing?"

They didn’t reply.

"Unscheduled." You repeated with narrowed eyes. "Yeah, see, that’s what’s throwing me off. You people only move in packs when someone tells you to."

"Team-building." Abby states with a charming grin. "Very healthy. Builds trust."

Romance stretched like he was auditioning for the villain role in a romance anime. "Or maybe we were hoping for a little sketchbook time."

"Denied." You answered immediately. Yeah, you saw that coming, even smelled it.

Mystery didn’t move from his bat-like perch. "I brought snacks."

You looked at him. "They’re pocket mints."

"They’re shareable."

Yep you turned toward the exit. You aren't gonna waste another energy, but Jinu stepped forward and casually leaned on the doorframe. Blocking it.

"Leaving so soon?" He said, calm and smug and, unfortunately, gorgeous. You don't know how many times you called them all those words inside your head. "We haven’t even started the icebreaker."

But of course no matter how good looking they are, they still continue to test your sanity. With that said, your eye twitched for the nth time.

"What is this, a hostage situation?" You looked him up and down, and he felt you judge him.

"That depends." Romance hummed with a grin. "Are you willing to negotiate?"

Baby pouted, still trying that method of acting cute. "We just want a peek."

"You’ve been studying us." Abby chimed in. "Seriously. We can feel it."

"We’d like to see your... interpretations." Romance added, clearly trying to sound seductive. You gave him a withering look. He faltered for half a second. "Strictly for performance critique purposes."

You let the silence stretch, then slowly opened your sketchbook... just an inch. It was cute but mostly funny on how their eyes lit up.

Then you snapped it shut.

"No." You said with a condescending smile like some typical villainess.

"Cruel." Jinu muttered with a huff.

Baby groaned dramatically, flopping back. "Why won’t you just let us see it?"

"Because it’s mine." You said, backing toward the wall. "And because I know you’ll cry."

Romance scoffed. "I don’t cry."

"You cried when your contact lens flipped inside out." Abby pointed out with a little laugh.

"Emotional trauma." Romance said with dignity. He was quick with his reply. Being on those little screens paid off.

Jinu tilted his head, still blocking the door. "This all could’ve been avoided, you know. Back when we were being nice."

You narrowed your eyes. "You smiled at me one time and then threw a door in my face."

"I smiled twice." He corrected. "That’s effort."

You sighed, dramatically and soulfully. "This is what I get for not calling in sick."

They inched closer, slowly closing in like a very attractive zombie horde.

Then you raised your sketchbook like a weapon and said, "Another step and I swear to God I’ll post the ‘Abby Cries at Pixar’ spread online."

Everyone froze.

"…You wouldn’t." Abby whispered.

"Try me." That wasn't a challenge. That was the truth. You'd do anything for this war.

Behind him, Mystery was already reaching for his phone. "I’d retweet it."

Abby narrowed his eyes at him. "You traitor."

Eventually, Jinu sighed and stepped aside. "You win this round."

You smiled and gave his shoulder a pat. "You mean all rounds."

And with that, you walked out like the final boss of their lives—sketchbook clutched tight, peace restored (for now), and your petty revenge arc stronger than ever.

Sketchbook Status: Untouched.

Artist Mood: Petty

[yogirl-willow]

The Crimson Pact | Part 3

Characterizations | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4

SoulBond!AU

Pairings: Yandere!Saja Boys x F!Reader

Synopsis: You were never supposed to remember them.

Four hundred years ago, a pact was made—a blood-soaked bond tying five demons to one human soul: yours.

They’ve waited lifetimes for your reincarnation, cursed with obsession, tethered by fate.

And now that you’ve returned?

They’ll burn the world before they let you go again.

Warnings: Soul bond with the Saja Boys, Yandere themes!, obsessive behavior / possessiveness, romantic psychological tension, mentions of implied past death / reincarnation, intense emotional fixation, yearning, dark romance, comfort and control, hurt/comfort (if you squint)

A/N: Reading all your comments and reblogs always makes me smile! This part is a bit longer than the rest. I wanted to focus on building her trust and relationship with the boys, so there will be much more interactions and intimacy than the previous parts. I hope you all enjoy!

───────── ༺🜃༻ ─────────

The Saja boys are all demons.

They are wrath and ruin. Jealousy and death.

And yet, before her, they kneel.

Because she is the Heart. Because her soul is what keeps them from unraveling into true monsters. Because they were bound by her love and her curse.

They don’t just crave her—they depend on her. Without her presence, their minds deteriorate. Their bodies decay. Their hunger becomes unbearable.

Only Y/N’s touch tames the demon inside.

────────── ⚘ ──────────

Part 3:

If You Stay

You don’t remember falling asleep. But you remember waking up.

The guest room is dim, wrapped in soft shadows, the silk sheets pulled up to your chin. The faint scent of rain and cedar lingers in the air—Jinu, you think distantly. It clings to your skin like a memory. One you shouldn’t have.

You must’ve fallen asleep after your talk with the boys in the afternoon. You’d admit, that did take a toll on you, and you were still feeling quite unwell from yesterday’s events. Hangovers don't just go away in a few hours. One of the boys must’ve carried you in here.

You sit up slowly. Your headache from earlier is gone. But something inside still hums. A weight behind your ribs. A tugging sensation that pulses faintly… toward them.

You still had too many questions you needed answers to. They said they were demons, so why are they here? They didn’t look like demons. They were sinfully beautiful, so you assume that definitely plays a part in it. Why did they sell their souls to Gwi Ma? Who was this Gwi Ma? Who were you to each of them in your past life? Just how many past lives have you had exactly? 

And most importantly, if they were demons hundreds of years old, why in the flying fuck are they in a K-pop idol group?

There’s a knock at the door, ceasing your thoughts. You freeze. But it doesn’t open.

“Y/N?” It’s Romance’s voice, low and careful. “Dinner’s ready. If you’re hungry.”

You don’t answer right away.

Not because you don’t want to. But because you’re afraid of what it means that you do. Still—you follow the sound.

The dining room is too elegant for six people. The table could seat twelve, But only one side is set—six seats arranged close together. The lighting is warm, soft. As if they’d planned for comfort. For your nerves.

The boys are already seated. But they all rise the moment they see you. Romance is the first to move, pulling out your chair with a slow, exaggerated flourish. “Right here, angel.”

You meet his eyes and you feel the pull again. He’s looking at you with the most tender expression. Like you’re the most precious thing in the world to him. 

And you were.

Plates are filled before you can ask. Abby gently sets a bowl of soup in front of you—your favorite kind. You don’t remember telling them that. You’re not even sure you remember liking it until the smell hits you. Baby places a glass of water before you and you suck in a nervous breath as you feel a light kiss on the crown of your head. 

You’d never been treated like this before. Cherished. Not even by your own family. It was so foreign, you doubted it could be real. 

But as you gazed at each and every one of them, you could see it in their faces. The quiet relief. The tenderness. Their want to do these things for you. It was a feeling you had to get used to.

You didn’t touch the food right away. You just stared down at the dark wooden table, the linen napkin folded too neatly on your lap, and the spoon resting next to a bowl that smelled like home. If home had five soul-bound demons who watched you breathe.

Jinu watches carefully from across the table. He hasn’t touched his food.

“Eat,” he says quietly. “You’ll need your strength.”

You hesitate.

Romance spoke next. “If you’re waiting for poison, don’t worry. We only do that to each other.”

A faint smile tugged at your lips. It was too much. All of it. You took a small sip. And then another. And the warmth spread to places in you that hadn’t been warm in months. You sighed, strangely feeling so much more at ease.

Romance leans closer. His voice is honey and hooks. “You’re still not feeling well during the day, right?”

You nod. Slowly. 

“That’s the bond,” Jinu says. “It’s active. But unstable.”

“The further you are from us,” Abby adds, “the worse it’ll get.”

“I’ve been alone for years,” you mutter, fingers tightening around your spoon. “I’ll be fine.”

“No,” Baby says from the end of the table. Quiet. Sharp. “You won’t.” You flinch at his tone. But it doesn’t feel cruel—just true.

There’s a beat of silence.

Then Romance sets his fork down and places his chin in his palm, eyes glittering in the candlelight. “You’re not a prisoner, you know.”

Your brow furrows.

He smiles. “We’re not keeping you here. But…we did have this place built for you.”

Your eyes snapped to him. "What do you mean you had it built for me?"

Romance’s smile was soft. Too soft. "Darling, this whole place was bought and designed for you. For when we found you. We just live in it."

You blink.

Had they been waiting for you that long? You hadn’t really thought about it before. The logistics of their story hadn’t fully registered. 

“You’d have your own space,” Jinu says softly, ever the diplomat. “A guest room. With a lock, if that makes you feel safer.”

Abby immediately frowns. “Why can’t she just stay in her room-room?” he grumbles, arms crossed. “It’s closer to mine.”

Your brows knit together. “Wait. My room?”

Romance’s smile is slow and feline, like he’s been waiting for that moment. “Of course. We had it ready since… well. A while.”

You blink. That didn’t answer your question.

Jinu doesn’t flinch. “Because that room doesn’t have a lock.”

Abby scowls, muttering something under his breath. Romance hums beside you. “Wouldn’t want one anyway.”

You whirl on him. “What was that?”

He holds up both hands in mock surrender, grinning like the devil. “Just saying. But okay, okay—guest room with a lock. For now.”

There’s a silence. Then Mystery murmurs almost too quietly: “…We’d break it if we had to.”

Your stomach twists. They’re joking. You hope they’re joking.

“You wouldn’t be alone,” Mystery pipes again. He’s seated closest to you, his plate untouched. His eyes never leave your hands. He wanted to grasp them. Feel your warmth. Feel your hands massage his hair just as you used to in your past life. He swallowed.

You press your lips together. It’s not that you don’t believe them. It’s that you do. And that terrifies you.

Romance watches the doubt dance across your face. He leans forward, just enough that you’re forced to look at him.

“You don’t have to say yes forever,” he says, voice low and intimate. “Just… stay. For now. Let your body heal. Let the bond stabilize. You don’t even have to talk to us. We’ll keep our distance if that’s what you want.”

At least that’s what she’ll think. Romance thinks to himself. With these guys? Yeah right.

You don’t speak. His voice softens. “You’ve been carrying this alone for so long, haven’t you? You’re getting sick. Dizzy. Faint.”

Your throat tightens.

“You’re tired. You’re having headaches. And we’re the only ones who can ease it. You feel that. So why are you still punishing yourself?”

You try to deny it. To push the tears back. But his words hit something raw. And real.

“I’m not trying to punish myself,” you whisper. “I just… I didn’t ask for this.”

“I know,” he murmurs. “But that doesn’t mean we’ll let you suffer for it.”

"You’ll be safe," Abby added gruffly. "No one touches you here. No one even gets close."

The silence that follows is thick. Your breathing is shallow. Their words registering. Was it really so bad? Letting them care for you? Being here with them. Having them treat you like you’ve never been treated before? 

Why were you still fighting it? There was so much you didn’t know, but as of this moment, you did know one thing. That they loved you in your past life. And love you still. Did that count? They yearn for you, and have been for lifetimes. And you knew deep in your heart you were starting to feel the same. Was that really so bad? 

To let them in? 

They were strangers, but they weren’t. They claim to be yours, so why do you keep questioning it? 

Then, slowly—almost in spite of yourself—you nod. “Just… a little while,” you say. “Until I feel better.”

You don’t see the look they share. The way Jinu’s shoulders finally lower. The flicker of possessive triumph behind Romance’s lashes. Or the way Mystery exhales like he’s been holding his breath since the moment you left him last.

You don’t see any of it. But you feel it. The shift. The settling. Something ancient and invisible clicks into place behind your ribs. And you don’t fight it anymore.

The bond sighs.

They insist on collecting your things that night. “We’ll go,” Abby says immediately. “You stay. Rest.”

“No, I—” You start, but Jinu raises a hand. “You’re still weak. If the bond flares while you’re alone, it could be dangerous. Let us.”

You glance between them—five men who could tear the world apart for you—and for once, it feels less like a threat and more like a promise.

“…Okay,” you say quietly. “Just—don’t touch my underwear drawer.”

Romance smirks. “No promises.”

“Romance,” Jinu snaps.

Mystery growls.

You sigh. I guess you did need underwear. “Fine. Just… don’t be creepy.”

Abby winks. “We’ll be fast. Promise.”

As they move, as doors open and shoes slip on, you stay behind with Baby, the silent protector watching your every move. But for some reason, it doesn’t scare you now. 

He approaches you, eyes intense and never as wary as the others. Like he’d never be sorry for having you and taking what’s rightfully his. He was silent, but intentional. 

He walks you to your room and you shiver as you feel his large hand on your lower back. He holds the door open for you before briefly muttering a faint “Goodnight, sweetheart” and closing the door shut. And for the first time in weeks… You don’t feel sick.

────────── ⚘ ──────────

You sit on the same dining table for breakfast. Jinu had made you some toast sandwiches. The boys looked chirpy. Looks like someone’s in a good mood…

It was still so surreal to them how you were here- having breakfast with them. The very thought of this domestic life with you, caring for you, providing for you like partners almost made them purr in ecstasy. 

You were still in Jinu’s hoodie despite all your clothes laying in messy duffle bags, sleeves swallowing your hands, hair slightly damp from a quick shower. It took much restraint from Jinu to not pull you in his arms the moment you walked out of your room.

His hoodie looked right on you. Like it had always belonged there—like you had always belonged there. You didn’t realize it, but every thread of that oversized fabric clung to you like a memory, like a claim. It smelled like him, and that alone made something feral claw beneath his skin.

His jaw tightened as you crossed the room, bare legs brushing against soft fabric. You moved so carelessly, so trusting, not realizing you were walking a tightrope over a thousand years of obsession. Of agony. Of aching need.

You didn’t know he used to dream about this. That centuries ago, he’d wake from nightmares of you slipping through his fingers only to whisper your name into the night. He had waited lifetimes to see you like this again.

And now? Now, you were right there—wrapped in his scent, in his clothes, in his world—but still unsure if you belonged.

He smiled softly as you reached for a mug, but his hands twitched at his sides. He wanted to cage you to his chest, press his lips to your neck, and whisper, “This time, I’ll never let you die.”

He would never let you go again.

They were all quiet around you, letting you eat in peace. It should’ve been normal. It wasn’t.

"Are you going to work today?" Mystery asked, tilting his head.

"...Yes?"

"We don’t think you should go," Jinu said plainly.

You nearly choked on your toast. Say what now? "I have bills."

"You could quit," Romance offered. "Stay here. Rest. Sketch. Paint. Sleep."

You looked at him like he’d grown a second head. Sure, the offer sounded nice—dreamy, even. But it was the kind of nice that belonged in fairytales. People didn’t just quit their jobs and live off vibes and good intentions. In this economy?

You waited for the punchline… but it never came. They were all staring at you—completely serious. Like quitting your job was the obvious solution. Like it was the answer to every problem you’d ever had.

"What would I even do? Just exist as your little house pet?"

Mystery looked hopeful. Abby smiled. You sighed. "No way. I’m not freeloading."

"You could be our assistant," Abby grinned. "Take notes. Carry snacks. Pet Mystery when he gets upset."

"Not happening."

They let it go.

But Romance’s eyes gleamed. Like he was already planning a way to make it so. 

After breakfast, you went to your room to change into your work clothes. Stepping out and closing the door firmly, you make your way to the kitchen where Jinu hands you another toast claiming you needed another ‘energy boost’ for the day. You take it in thanks and drown out his last ditch effort to convince you to quit, waving him off with a cute smile that shut him up. You make your way to the entrance and stop in your tracks. Abby, leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, looking far too pleased with himself for 8:30 in the morning. His sweatshirt hung loose over his frame, hood drawn up, but there was no hiding that build. Or that face. Or the smirk that crept up the moment he saw you in your work clothes.

"Hello there, sweetheart," he drawled.

You froze, mid-bite, a piece of toast tragically dangling from your mouth. "...If this is another attempt to get me to quit my job, you can turn right back around."

Abby grinned like the smug menace he was. “Sadly, no. I’ve accepted your tragic refusal of our generous sugar-demon lifestyle.”

He leaned against the doorframe, hands in his hoodie pocket like this was totally normal. “So instead, I’ll be escorting my darling little starshine to work today.”

You blinked. “I’m sorry—your what now?”

“My darling. Little. Starshine,” he repeated, grinning wider with each word.

You deadpan, a blush of pink rising to your cheeks. “Try that again and I’ll call HR.”

He laughed. “Okay, okay. I’m walking you to work. Orders from the Bond Gods. Or Jinu. Same thing, really.”

“You all really expect me to be escorted to work?”

“Yes,” he says simply. “You’re still weak. The bond’s healing you, but slowly. We won’t let you go alone again. Not when you’re like this.”

You hesitate. He steps closer, but not too close. “Let us keep you safe. Just for today.”

“…Fine,” you mutter.

“And tomorrow…”

“Really?”

“And the day after that…”

“Okay, I get it. Fine. But you have to hide.”

He blinks. “Hide?”

“I’m not walking next to Abby from the Saja boys. I’ll be the talk of the entire district. They’ll probably think I’m kidnapped.”

He snorts. “Technically…”

“Abby.”

“Fine, fine.” He pulls his hood lower. “But I draw the line at hiding my abs.”

You roll your eyes. “Just… be normal. Please.”

────────── ⚘ ──────────

Even in a hoodie and mask, he doesn’t look normal. He looks like a movie star trying not to be recognized—and failing. Your coworkers notice him immediately.

“Y/N…” one of the baristas whispers as you clock in. “Who. Is. That.” 

You pretend not to hear.

Another coworker giggles. “Is he your boyfriend? Oh my god, did you meet him at the club?”

“No!” you say too quickly.

“But he didn’t come inside with us… where did you meet him then?”

You force a laugh. “He’s just a friend. He’s helping me out since I’ve been sick.” 

They seem to buy it—until someone brings up the guy from the other night.

“Hey, what happened to Jae? He said he’d walk you home, but we never heard from him. Did he ghost or something?”

You freeze.

“I, um… ran into someone else before he could. Didn’t see him after that.”

You stare hard at the pastry tray, pretending to adjust the layout. But inside, your stomach twists. What did happen to him?

You’d ask the boys later. …If you wanted the truth. Though, you’re not quite sure if you really do. 

────────── ⚘ ──────────

Your shift drags on longer than usual. Not because of work.

Because of him.

Baby sits at the back corner, hoodie pulled low, sipping a black coffee he hasn’t touched in twenty minutes. He doesn’t move. Doesn’t speak. Just watches. Your coworkers whisper, asking if he was an idol or something because he looked too handsome to be just a normal customer. You cringed at that.

It hasn’t really registered until now just how insane it was, really. You were now co-living with one of the rising pop-groups in the country. You almost laughed at the ridiculousness of it all. 

You try to focus. But you can feel his eyes. Not just looking—possessing. Guarding. Burning. Everytime you talked to a customer (particularly male) you could feel his eyes harden, glaring holes into whoever it was that talked to you. 

One of them tapped you on the shoulder to get your attention, asking with an “excuse me” if he could get some hot sauce with his order. Baby nearly jumped out of his seat if it weren’t for your warning glare. 

You approach the brooding demon, flipping open your notepad. “You’re not subtle, you know.”

He doesn’t smile. “They shouldn’t look at you.”

Your heart thumps. “It’s a customer’s job to look…and order…and ask...”

“They shouldn’t talk, either. Nor should they ever touch.”

You try not to smile. “You’re terrifying.”

His eyes flick up. Dark. Hungry. “Good.”

You bring him a refill anyway. “Behave.”

He doesn’t.

He waits outside when your shift ends, hands in pockets. Doesn’t say a word as you fall into step beside him. The air between you buzzes. You glance over. “Why do you look like someone kicked your favorite pet?”

He doesn’t answer. You poke him in the side. “Baby.”

His jaw flexes. Fighting his control to pull you in closer as people walked by. “I don’t like them talking to you.”

You sigh. “We’ve been over this. It’s my job.”

“You don’t need it.”

“I do.”

“You have us.”

“That’s not a job.”

“You could quit. Let us take care of you.”

“No.”

He frowns, lips twitching down.

“You’re pouting.”

He looks at you, expression unreadable. You reach out, amused, and gently press his cheek. Something shifts. He grabs your hand—fast but gentle—and kisses your knuckles. 

The world slows.

“You’re mine,” he whispers. “Even if you don’t remember. Even if you never say it.” His eyes hold you in place. Burning. Certain. There’s no hesitation in his voice. No tremble. Just absolute conviction—like he wasn’t stating a hope, but a law of the universe. 

Baby steps closer, the streetlights casting silver on his sharp features. His gaze drops to your lips like he’s already imagining how they’d feel crushed beneath his.

“You don’t have to love me back yet,” he says, voice low and velvet-dark. “But don’t ever think I’ll stop. Even if you don’t want us to take care of you. I’ll keep pushing.”

Your stomach flips. You hate how warm your skin feels. How part of you leans toward him without meaning to. How his scent—like storm-wet pine and danger—makes your fingers twitch with a need you can’t name. His hand lifts to your face, gentle despite the fire in his eyes, knuckles brushing your cheek like you might vanish if he touched too hard.

“If anyone else touches you again,” he adds softly, “I don’t care if they’re your customer. They won’t have hands left to touch with.”

You don’t answer.

But your heart races all the way home.

────────── ⚘ ──────────

After dinner, the boys were gathered on the second floor of the apartment. They had turned it into a studio to practice their choreo for performances. You could hear their music and their footsteps as they danced to the beat. 

You padded around the apartment to explore in the meantime. The apartment was massive. You didn’t realize how massive until you started walking. Every hallway turned into a gallery. Every room had windows tall enough to drown in. You passed a music room, a library, a room full of costumes and stage lights. You had no idea such penthouses existed in the city. But then again, they were demons who’d been in existence for hundreds of years. Who knows how much money they got.

On the kitchen counter, you found a sketchbook. Yours. But filled with things you didn’t remember drawing. Five faces. A moonlit shrine. A shattered sword. You still hadn’t gotten used to drawing what you figured were memories from your past lives. This was evidence in itself that they were telling the truth. You decide not to fight it anymore.

On the dresser, you find an earring. No pair. You picked it up and your chest twisted, it felt a bit familiar.

In the lounge, a scarf folded neatly on a velvet chair. You held it to your face and inhaled. A scent you couldn’t name, but the fabric felt soft. Again, familiar. 

You didn’t know whether to scream or cry. It was like finding single pieces of a gigantic puzzle. You were sure these things meant something to one of them. You’d ask, in time. 

After their practice was over, the boys found you sat in the livingroom. You were reading the book Romance had given you which made him smile. They greeted you one by one, some went off to shower, some to the kitchen for a snack. 

It was Jinu who sat next to you. 

“How’s the choreo going?” you ask, eyes never leaving the page. 

“Good. How’s the book?” He nodded. He knew how badly Romance had wanted to give that to you. 

“Good.” You looked up to softly smile at him. You were halfway through the story. The characters blurred together—tragic lovers separated by fate, drawn to one another through time. A story too close to your own.

Jinu looked at the book title with a gaze you couldn’t recognize. Like he was debating on something he wanted to say. 

“Did you want to hear another story?” 

That piqued your interest. You slowly shut the book, placing it down on the couch as a sign for him to continue. Jinu didn’t look at you. His gaze remained downcast. There was a moment of silence before he spoke. 

“I wasn’t always someone people bowed to.”

You looked up at him. The air around him seemed to change—heavier, stiller. Like his shadow was longer than it had been a second ago.

“I was born in a fishing village by the bay,” he said. “Back when the tides still carried salt and prayers.” 

“My mother was a seamstress. My sister was eight years younger. We were poor. Poor enough to boil weeds and pretend it was soup.”

Your breath caught. His eyes seemed distant. Far away as he recalled his life four hundred years ago. 

“The only thing we owned of value was a bipa. My mother’s. She taught me how to play it before her hands got too swollen to hold the strings.” His eyes went distant, haunted. “I played in the markets for coins. It was never enough.”

He paused, jaw tight. “Then one night, I heard a voice.”

“Gwi Ma offered me everything. Fame. Gold. Silk sheets and stages carved from jade. And I said yes.”

You stared at him. He finally met your eyes—and this time, the pain there was real.

“I left,” he whispered. “Without a word. My mother. My sister. I never even turned around. I don’t know if they lived another week.”

You released a breath as you felt your heart fracture at his words.

“I just… ran. Into the palace. Into adoration. And never looked back.”

He exhaled, eyes heavy with guilt. “The crowds worshipped me. I performed for kings and their consorts. They called me divine. The courtiers fought for my smile. And it still wasn’t enough.”

“I didn’t deserve peace,” he said, voice brittle. “But then I saw you.” His voice softened—fragile like old silk.

“You were a maid. You had ink on your fingers and a habit of humming while sweeping the floors. You didn’t bow. You didn’t flatter. You rolled your eyes at me.”

Your chest tightened. So that’s who you were in your past life when you first met him.

“And when I asked you why… you said I looked lonely.”

A pause.

“I fell in love with you the moment you looked at me like I was a boy. Not a god.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “But I made you weak. I brought you too close. It was impossible for someone like you, so pure of heart, to exist in that palace. I should’ve known there would be vipers waiting to strike.”

You didn’t interrupt. You couldn’t.

“There was a concubine who used to love watching me play. She’d call upon me to her chambers for performances. Pay a hefty sum for an appearance in her parties. She saw you and I in one of the pavilions and she didn’t like it.” A look of anguish flashed on Jinu’s face. “I knew it was only a matter of time before someone found out. I wasn’t a fool. I knew the women of the palace liked me for more than just my voice.” His fists tightened on his lap. 

“She poisoned your tea. I found you in the gardens…you…you were still smiling.”

He blinked once. Just once. “You died in my arms. And I didn’t even know how to mourn.”

You stared at him, tears pricking your eyes. You wished so hard to remember. To recall who he was back then. Something, anything, so you could share a memory with him.

“I went back to Gwi Ma. I begged. I offered everything again.” He swallowed. “That’s when the pact began. He told me… if I could bind other demons to your soul, tether you tightly enough, you’d return.” His eyes flicked to yours. He was trembling.

“So I did. I found them. One by one. I gave up pieces of myself to forge the bond. Even if I had to share you, I- I was willing to do anything to have you back. I waited lifetimes. We all did.”

He reached out now, slowly, like you might disappear. “And now you’re here.”

You didn’t move. Didn’t speak. But your body leaned toward his—drawn like a string was being pulled behind your ribs. He exhaled shakily. “I still don’t know what happened to them. My mother. My sister. I never went back.”

You reached for his hand. Fingers brushing his wrist. It was the gentlest thing you’d ever done. Jinu held onto your touch like a lifeline as the pain of his memories came rushing back.

“I think… they’d forgive you,” you whispered. He laughed softly. Bitter. Grateful. “I don’t.”

And somehow that made you want to forgive him more. You let him pull you closer. Let your head fall beneath his chin, chest pressed lightly to his side. He held you like you might break. Like he didn’t deserve to hold you at all. This was the closest he’s ever been to you since first seeing you in that square. His heart constricted. 

“I won’t make the same mistake again,” he murmured. You felt the words against your scalp. “I will never leave you. Even if it kills me.”

You tilted your head up—slow, searching. His lips hovered a breath away. The look in his eyes was agonizing: pure want, reverence, restraint. He was begging without words.

And maybe you wanted to say yes. Maybe you wanted to close that distance.

But something in you hesitated. The memory of danger still ghosting your ribs. The smell of blood. The crackle of old fire. You shouldn’t want this. He was a demon.

But then again—

He was yours.

Jinu didn’t move. Not really. But his eyes…God, his eyes were starving.

Like a man who hadn’t eaten in centuries and now sat trembling before the one thing he was never allowed to touch. His fingers flexed once on his thigh, like he was holding himself back from grabbing you. From yanking you into his arms and claiming what had always been his.

His lips parted—his breath shallow. “I shouldn’t,” he whispered, voice ragged. “Not yet.”

That almost did it.

Not yet.

Not no.

He wasn’t denying that he wanted to. Only that he was trying—failing—not to. You felt something pulse low in your spine. The bond again. Soft and hot, like a wire coiling tighter. Tighter.

You leaned closer. Not much. Just enough for your shoulder to brush his chest. His breath hitched.

“Y/N…” he warned. Or maybe it was a plea. “You don’t know what you’re doing to me.”

But you did. You knew exactly.

Your hand grazed his chest—over fabric, over his heart. It beat like a war drum under your palm. And he—this ancient thing with a voice like honey and a soul soaked in sin—shook under your touch.

“You waited for me,” you said softly. “Across lifetimes.”

He gave a shaky laugh. “Every night. Every fucking century.”

“And now I’m here,” you whispered.

“And now you’re here.”

He reached up—finally—like a man about to touch something sacred. Fingers grazing your cheek so gently it made you ache. You didn’t flinch this time. You leaned into it. And when he cradled your face in his hands, it wasn’t just touch.

It was claim.

The bond lit up like a match to kerosene—searing, seeping through every crack in your soul like molten gold. You gasped. So did he. His forehead pressed against yours, and for a moment, the whole world narrowed to this.

Him. You. Breath tangled. Thread pulled tight. Two hearts beating like one. 

His voice broke against your mouth.

“I loved you. Before I even knew what love meant. I loved you in that garden. In that palace. In every life you bled through. I loved you while you died in my arms. And I love you now.”

Tears slowly gathered in the corner of your eyes at his confession. Your chest tightening with every word he uttered. Let all reason be damned. Nothing in the world could be more true right now, more real, than this.

Your lips brushed his when you exhaled. You didn’t mean to. You were just breathing—but it was enough.

It shattered him.

He kissed you like he was starving. Like this was his first meal in centuries. Like his immortality had meant nothing without this.

The kiss wasn’t soft. It was ruinous. Possessive. His mouth moved against yours like he’d memorized it across time—hungry, reverent, desperate. Like he was afraid you’d vanish if he let go.

And you…

You kissed him back.

Because some part of you remembered. The garden. The incense. The ache of his name in your mouth before it was ever spoken.

Your fingers curled into his shirt, pulling him closer. His hand slid to your waist. He groaned low in his throat when you pressed into him, fire threading under your skin, a live wire finally connected.

The kiss slowed. Deepened.

When he finally pulled back, barely an inch, his eyes were wild.

“You’re mine,” he whispered. “You always were.”

And in that moment, you didn’t deny it.

Not this time.

────────── ⚘ ──────────

The kiss hadn’t been loud.

Barely a sigh. A whisper of fabric. The faint rustle of limbs and emotion finally giving in.

But they felt it.

From different corners of the apartment, the bond trembled like a shared heartbeat. A hush fell over the rooms like snowfall. Every boy froze.

Abby paused in the hallway with his forehead pressed to the doorframe, eyes shut.

Romance stood motionless in the kitchen, hands tight around the edge of the marble counter, breath held like a confession.

Mystery curled beneath his bedsheets, face half-buried in the sleeve of your old hoodie, his claws twitching against the mattress.

Baby sat in the far window seat of the lounge, unmoving, eyes half-lidded, expression unreadable—except for the slight twitch of his jaw.

They knew. They didn’t need to see it. They felt it through the bond—the hum, the spark, the slow unfurling of something sacred.

You kissed Jinu.

And something ancient and knotted in all of them unclenched. Not jealousy. Not really. It wasn’t rage or bitterness that stirred in their chests.

It was relief.

Because Jinu deserved this.

He had waited the longest. He had suffered the most. He had built the very foundation of the Crimson Pact with trembling hands and bloodied knees, driven by the memory of your lifeless body in his arms. He had found them. Bound them. Led them.

And now…He had finally been given a sliver of what he lost.

Abby exhaled a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding. His hand closed into a fist against the doorframe. “Good for you, hyung,” he whispered.

Romance closed his eyes and tilted his head to the ceiling, the corner of his mouth lifting into a quiet, almost reverent smile. “Took him fucking long enough.”

Mystery blinked slowly, purring low in his throat. “She’s starting to remember,” he murmured into the blankets. “She’s letting herself feel it.”

And Baby… Baby didn’t move. But in his eyes, a hunger lit up. Not the kind that devoured. The kind that waited. That watched from the shadows with claws pressed to his ribs.

It would be his turn soon. He could wait. He’d waited before. But not much longer.

Across the apartment, the bond shimmered—warmer now. Alive in a way it hadn’t been in lifetimes. Each of them felt it. Not just the connection, but the hope.

She’s letting us in. She’s starting to fall again. Their hands twitched. Hearts pounded. Mouths parted with breathless need. And beneath it all, one singular thought pulsed through the Crimson Pact:

Soon, it’ll be me.

Not out of competition. Not to steal the moment. But because you belonged to all of them. And in every life, one by one… you had.

Jinu had always kissed you first.

But he would not be the last. TO BE CONTINUED

───────── ༺🜃༻ ───────── A/N: Huaaah I died inside writing this chapter! I hope you guys enjoyed this one. The next chapter follows the same theme of relationship building and we'll get to see more intimate moments and backstories of the other boys! Let me know your thoughts in the comments and feel free to Reblog and Like this chapter if you enjoyed it! Till next time! Willa x.

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Taglist: @faerie-soirxx @strayharmony943 @ibby-miyoshi-nerd @anonymousewrites @cottonheadedninnymugggins @apelepikozume @moonlight-rosevine @yepitsmesendhelp @lovely-maryj @nonetheartist @ateezswonderland @sarah22447 @zuhaeri @enerofairy @littlemissfix-itfic @meeeegaaan @luxylucylou @hornehlittleweeblet2 @natllo @levifiance @lavnderluv @the-sweet-psycho @shinebright2000 @weponxwrites @raineandcl0uds @loomindoors @bearb33 @iv-vee @realifezompire @jamaicanqueen007 @g-l-1-t-c-h-3-r @unsolicitedopal @candylandrules @sleepyamaya @miffysoo @scaranao @bloobewy

[purerae]

— DUPLEXITY;;

fem!reader x coworker!yanderes

— who knew attempting to bond with your co workers would lead to a fucked up love triangle?

prologue; quit your job! If dying was an option right now, Y/N would take it with a gleeful smile.

Sprinting through the woods, her ears ringing, she slams her grimy, broken hand against her head over and over. Her knees, bruised to a swollen pulp of purple, threaten to buckle beneath her. A deep, unprotected gash dressed painfully across her back, its edges rotting, every movement tearing at the poorly dressed wound.

Ignoring the piercing whine in her ears, her heart froze at the sound of shuffling drawing closer. Her legs wobbled, threatening to give out, but the surge of adrenaline coursing through her veins kept her moving forward. An ear striking screech bursts from the girl’s throat, desperate to catch the attention of any passing drivers or hikers.

How could she be so foolish? It’s four in the morning, and she’s in the middle of nowhere, with two freaks relentlessly chasing her.

Her scream was a terrible mistake. It brought her no closer to freedom instead only closer to her pursuers. Their shouts echo behind her, filled with words she can’t—and doesn’t want to comprehend.

Pleas, threats, and bursts of anger escape from their mouths but the only thing that Y/N had her mind on was getting her brother and leaving this shithole. Y/N ran and ran, but to her dismay and an almost comical cruel sense of bad luck , Her vision was slammed with a wall ruined with graffiti that was now taunting her from her inescapable future. Her breathing slows as she stumbled back, desperately praying for anything that could save her. Surely they weren't close, she put in all this effort, they cannot be close! With trembling caution, she moved backward, her steps deliberate and silent. She avoided every brittle branch and insect littering the forest floor, straining to make as little noise as possible. Her back pressed into something soft yet unyielding, carrying the earthy scent of firewood mixed with the sharp tang of blood that she’ll always loathe.  Y/N’s breath hitched, frozen in her chest as the sound of heavy breathing enveloped her ears from just behind.

‘Fuck.'

“You can’t run from us. It’s two against one, cutie.”

Even with her back turned, she could picture his smug, shit-eating smirk. A chill ran down her spine as his arms snaked around her waist, pulling her closer, trapping her. God, she wished she had a bat so she could beat him till he was a lifeless piece of flesh that she could point and laugh at. Too bad that would never be possible, even if she had a weapon to begin with. Deep down, Y/N knew there was no escaping this. But with every ounce of strength her battered body could summon, she let out the loudest scream she could muster; a semblance of hope in her body that somebody could save her. It tore through the cold night air before everything turned black. The last thing she heard was another man's footsteps approaching them, and two voices she made an oath to never hear, conversing. All she wanted was a fucking pay raise.

-

-

- Y/N buttoned her blouse with a giddy smile, rushing around her room in search of the shoes she’d bought just for this day. "I can't believe I got the job! I'm so excited, this still feels so surreal."  she exclaimed, her voice bubbling with enthusiasm as she grabbed her phone, waiting for her friend’s response. "Girl, I'm happy for you!” her friend shouted over the line, her voice barely cutting through the loud music and chatter in the background. “Just work hard, and you’ll be promoted to detective in no time! My little Sherlock Holmes~” Y/N scoffs out a laugh before she shakes her head at the chaos on the other end. Normally, she’d lecture her friend about hosting a party at seven in the morning, but today, she was too nervous and way too excited about her first day to care. "Ahaha, Yeah  I don't know about that... I'm still in shock that I got the job to be the assistant, let alone be the main thing. I just hope the person in charge of me is nice." The E/C-eyed girl replied looking at the ceiling , nervously biting her nails whilst walking back and forth in her room.

"Don't stress about it! I'm sure they'll be nice, babes. And you should ju-" Y/N’s friend was abruptly cut off by a guy shouting in the background, his voice carrying over the music: “Ayra! Get back to the party already!” "Hold on a sec Noel! Im talking to Y/N" she yells back with an obvious scowl on her face… Well, Y/N was almost positive that she displayed one based on the tone of her voice. "It's fine! You go do your shit, I gotta’ finish getting ready." "Okay Okay, message me after your shift ends. I wanna know everything~!" The bubbly girl says as she mimics a kiss sound. Despite Ayra not being able to see Y/N, she smiles with a soft gaze at the phone before hanging up. Staring into the mirror, she carefully assessed her outfit. A sleek black blouse layered over a white undershirt paired perfectly with a matching black pencil skirt. Light makeup enhanced her features, and her neatly styled hair framed her face just right. She smoothed her clothes with her hands, beaming widely as she twirled in front of the mirror. Y/N gathered all her essentials, carefully packing them into her bag before stepping out of her apartment. She locked the door with a quick twist of the key, then paused to double-check it twice…just to be sure; it was a habit she had done ever since she lived in her parents home. 

Stepping into the elevator, she pressed the button for the ground floor. Knowing the ride would take a while, she lived on the second-highest floor, after all, she pulled out her phone to check the time. It was 7:15 a.m. Perfect. With the bus journey to the department taking only 30 minutes, she was right on schedule (which was always a struggle for her.) A grin spread across her face as she opened her email app and tapped on the message from the 'Warrens Department.' Her heart fluttered nervously as she re-read the letter, scanning each line to ensure she hadn’t missed anything important. As she scrolled to the bottom, her brows furrowed. There, tucked away, was a link she hadn’t noticed before.

'Shit I must've missed this' She thought with worry before quickly clicking the link, silently thanking her instincts for prompting her to double-check the message. The link was a profile of the detective that she would be working with. Looking at the picture, she notices that he was a very conventionally attractive male. The formally dressed girl squints her eyes before assessing the man that her eyes laid upon.

Xavier Allette, it read. Twenty-five years old, with five years of experience as a detective.

‘Holy shit, he became a detective at 20? I was still in university then.’ Y/N’s thoughts wandered briefly as she reminisced about her own journey, a flicker of envy stirring as she compared herself to her boss.

Letting out a breath of relief that she didn't know she had; The assistant was expecting an old cruel man as her boss, but to her luck, it was someone of a similar age to her. And, as a bonus, he wasn’t bad to look at either.

Y/N knew better than to judge someone based on their appearance, but as her cheeks warmed, she couldn’t help but blush at the handsome face staring back at her from the screen. A straight pale face, with a clean-shaven look. His hair was a wavy deep black, tussled formally. Eyes sharp and matched with his extremely dark hair. Y/N couldn’t help but notice the absence of a glint or any sign of life in his pupils. ‘I’m overthinking it,’ she told herself. ‘He’s just posing for the picture’. It had to be her psychology degree kicking in, making her analyze every feature of his face like a subject in a case study. Xavier’s nose was strikingly defined, and his lips were full, holding a slightly warm tint that gave his serious expression a subtle softness. Though he was wearing a suit, anyone could tell the detective worked out as his jaw was sharp and his shoulders were broad. It was clear that he took good care of himself.

The only other information displayed on his profile was a list of the cases he had worked on and details about his educational background. 'Maketa Academy?!' That was the most prestigious high school that Y/N had ever heard of. You could either get in with a scholarship or a lot of money. Unfortunately for her, she had been neither crazy smart nor crazy rich, so attending a place like that had never been an option. Y/N couldn’t tell whether Xavier had gotten in through wealth or intellect, but either way, it was impressive. Her train of thought abruptly halted as the elevator chimed, signaling her arrival on the first floor.

Turning off her phone, She exits the building before walking a short distance to the bus so she could arrive at the destination where she was going to be working.

'Please be nice to me, Warrens Department.'

-

-

-

Y/N rushed out of the bus, the clock read 8:00 am. The bus kept on delaying because of the traffic that the driver faced. The 15 minutes that she was hoping she had left to spare, disappeared all because of not getting a driver's licence! Cursing at herself, she ran to the building that was two minutes away. She could get there in ten seconds, her stubbornness is saving her life today.

The girl stared in awe at the building for a second. It was massive and incredibly modern. A large sign labelled Warrens Department was placed right in the middle of the building. Shaking her head, she scans the key card that came into the mail a week ago and fixes any loose hairs before walking into the building.

8:01 am, Already a minute late, though not much of a difference, she didn't want to disappoint her boss on the first day. Power walking to the reception she sighs shyly before speaking up. "Hi!" Her voice cracks.

'Oh my god, first I'm late, now my voice cracks, I should just quit my job and leave this e-' "Hello! Who’re  you? I've never seen you before?" The ginger girl behind the desk questioned loudly. Her light southern accent peeked through. The red-haired was incredibly short, her face caked with pink-themed makeup matching her formal pink outfit. Y/N thought the receptionist was cute and seemed nice too! If she wasn't too busy stressing about being late, she'd love to be her friend. "I'm the detective's new assistant— Xaviers Allette's assistant." Y/N rambles, hands shaking with nerves.

"Y/N L/N?" The receptionist questioned with eyebrows raised, Y/N nods quickly and shows her key card to the lady. "I'm Abigail!" her smile drops, "Also, you should probably head over to his office quickly, Mr Allette hates tardiness.. a lot." It was now Y/N's turn for her face to drop, she mumbles a quick thank you before running off.She stops in her tracks as she realised her stupid mistake. "Hey Abigail, what's his room number?" Y/N spoke rushing back to the desk. Reaching halfway, the red-haired girl puts her hand out, ordering her to stop running back. "It's on the second floor, room 11, hurry!" She yells, shaking her hand. The late assistant puts a thumbs up as a way of saying thank you before completely ignoring the elevator and rushing up the stairs. Turning left she finds the room that is the lead detective. On the door, a silver plate is shown with  'Room 11' and 'Xavier Allette' engraved onto them in a fancy font.. It was clear that his room was the biggest on the floor.

Wiping the sweat off her hands and re-checking herself on the reflection of the plate, she checks the time. 

8:05 am.

Y/N knocks on her boss's door. The door opens automatically, she notices the man that was just on her screen almost an hour ago, sitting down with his eyes furrowed and lips pulled into a frown.  His eyes were fixated on his computer screen, fist propped against his chin. The assistant looks around while patiently waiting for him to say something.

20 seconds passed and all that she could hear were the sounds of him typing. the h/c hair-coloured girl clears her throat.

"Good morning, sir. My name is Y/N L/N, and Im p-"

"You're late." A deep, harsh voice cuts her off. 

A/N : New story :p !! i really like the plot for this one and will have a masterlist out for it soon!

[c0sm1cp0tat0]

Yandere! Saja Boys x Reader

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4.

When you lost your boyfriend, you hadn't known how to cope. Thats why you resolved for everything to stay just how it used to be. But no matter how much you had tried, it never worked. If anything, it just highlighted his absence in your life even more.

And this...your current predicament, was throwing you even more off track.

You were drowning. Not in water, but in silken sheets. The one called Roman had your waist in an arm, effectively pressing you down. You hadn't actually said anything much, just a 'Wow, your hair's pretty,' in a passive attempt to butter up your captors. As soon as you said that, however, it was like a fucking dam had broken.

It had the opposite effect of what you were hoping. He was pressing into you. His lips, peppering kisses all over your small face. You were being squeezed like a squeaky toy. Some of the kisses were so hard you thought they would bruise. Mustering all your remaining breath, you squeak out in utter disbelief,

"This is-- assault!! Lemme go!!"

Baby burst out laughing, observing all your passing emotions and expressions as if gazing at a particularly facinating sample under a microscope. The others stared at him. Beni, if anything, was the most moody of their group. Nothing, no-one had ever made him laugh like this.

Romance couldn't hear you, mumbling to himself incoherently between kisses, "So-- small-- so fucking-- soft--"

He was smothering you in his scent. It was sweet and intoxicating; cedarwood and roses. You hated it. When he nuzzled your neck, his pink hair tickled. You vaguely caught sight of a poster on the wall. Romance was his stage name? Yeah, no shit.

"Off her, Roman. We need to figure shit out."

You refused to thank Jinu for getting the lovesick, oversized man-pup off of you, though you really wished to when Roman reluctantly released you. You sat up, dizzy and reeling. Eyes wide as you stared into space, traumatized.

However, you were soon caught in the grasps of another. The Mysterious guy had you now, and his arms were just as strong as the others'. You tried kicking, even throwing your head back as abruptly as you could. He dodged it smoothly. Unable to help it, you helplessly whimper, "Are you even human?"

You were using your whole body weight to try heave him away and he still didn't even budge. As if their bodies were made of lead. They surely could not be regular boys. No matter how much they danced and worked out, this level of strength should be impossible.

"No." The court, quiet response tore through you. It was from Mystery. Rasped in your ear, the croon of a fallen angel. It should have been a joke, so why'd you flinch?

You broke out of your stupor and continued struggling. He grabbed your small thigh and eased it upwards, adjusting himself into a sitting position and now it looked like you were sitting in his lap.

Jinu smiled that pretty smile again. An act you were now growing to hate, "Well, well, I was going to tell you to make yourself comfortable but now I see, there was no need."

You were about to blow a fuse, when suddenly Jinu dropped his smile. He brought up a large hand, and cupped it as if wielding something for the world to see.

And then, you saw.

Fire. It was fire. Purple though, various shades of violet flickering and overlapping. Born of golden embers. It didn't have an unpleasant smell like regular man made fires, and was captivating to the eye. Where was it coming from? His palm. You opened your mouth to scream, but Mystery covered it easily.

"Malak is right, though. We're not human. We're demons. You knew that, didn't you?" You definitely should have. Afterall, the way you looked at them that time. You saw everything that was within them and felt it.

Utterly appalled, you shook your head. You were a vision. Eyes wide, jaw dropped. Cheeks flushed in shock. Fear in your gaze. You were stunned. Completely dumbfounded. They loved it.

Seeing your reply, that fucker, he smiled even wider, hand brushing through his dark hair, "Well now ya do. And now that you know, you see, we just can't let you off our radar."

The other boys slowly grinned as they realised the plan of Jinu. He had been conspiring. Just to tie you to them like this. A secret could sometimes be the greatest shackle of them all. This one would have a considerable weight on you. And no matter where you ran, where you would hide, it would cling to you. You poor, poor thing.

The silence was broken by your small burst of forced laughter. "Haha-- wait-- is this some sort of organized prank?"

Abby, who had been leaning against the door, teleported so that now he was seated upon the bed. Right. Next. To. You. You squealed, the sound muffled against Malak's palm.

The rest of them were this distinctively strong. But this guy, who was so clearly built and possessed such defined tight-packed abs? You couldn't fathom his strength. You cowered away the best you could. He saw it, flashing inhumanely sharp canines at you as he smirked.

"Does it still seem like a prank?"

"Are you going to kill me now?" You weren't going to lie and say that you hadn't been practicing your facial expressions in the mirror since your boyfriend had died, just so that you wouldn't be percieved as completely emotionless. But this did strike shock in you. Demons, ghosts and supernatural abilities and things like that were beyond human understanding, afterall.

But that ebbed away now. You were still submerged in your sorrow. Handsome demons threatening you now wouldn't change that.

Before Jinu could open his mouth to reply, you continued, subconsciously slouching against Malak. "You can't; it would be too difficult to hide. There are CCTVs everywhere on that street the police would see how you escorted me away last night. They'll trace my dissapearance back to you all somehow, and even if you avoid it, you can't afford the suspicions. It would leave too much of a mark on a debut band like yourselves."

Your voice was cool, calm and collected. Even if you didn't mean to, you occupied Malak's lap like a queen. Their queen. His hand that once covered your mouth now in your smaller one. You let go of it abruptly once you noticed.

"You've got some brains on you." Jinu finally spoke, voice breathy. Visage collected as if he didn't have a raging boner that he was thankfully successfully able to hide beneath baggy blue joggers.

"No, I just don't care. You can kill me if you want. Maybe I'll be able to meet him then atleast." Malak's arms tightened around you at the mention of your death. The way your voice softened, became that lovely, vulnerable melody as you mentioned your late lover.

Roman's eyes were wide. He pulled the blanket up over his lower half. "She's smart."

Abby leaned closer, grabbing part of the blanket for himself "She's stunning,"

Baby huddled in, doing the same. "And she's brave as shit."

You could only vaguely hear their musings in the background. Didn't pay any mind to it. Waited for the ravenette man's reply in particular.

"You make a good point. But we weren't planning to kill you in the first place," Jinu couldn't suppress his smirk. They didn't want you dead. They wanted you between them.

They wanted you wrapped in silk and kisses and themselves, to rever and worship you. But look at you right now. If you were to know how they felt you would run for the hills, let alone understand. How five men, no, demons, could be all over you within days of meeting. Or, according to you-- minutes of meeting.

The Baby-looking one couldn't give a shit about the technicalities. He grabbed you by the shoulders, yanking you from Malak. "Beni." The curtain-haired man hissed under his breath.

Beni held you down, his aquamarine locks swaying at the action. "Who's he and why are you so obsessed with him? What does he have that we don't?"

You were getting annoyed. They were manhandling you without any effort whatsoever. And you still just wanted to go home. Their words at this point, in the most respectable way possible, was mere noise to your ears.

"We have the money." Jinu furrowed his brows.

"The muscles," Abbott added, stretching and involuntarily almost snapping the top button of his sleep shirt. You eyed it cautiously, paranoid it would come shooting at your face.

"The looks," Malak brushed back the thick curtain of hair over his eyes and you gasped at the beauty you saw.

"The fame," Beni flipped his hair again, practically staring you down at this point.

"The chivalry," Roman eyes you down in a way that made you shudder.

His long, slender finger guided a line down your forearm, before he interlinked your hands again. Maybe if it was any other girl who actually enjoyed being surrounded by attractive men like this, she would have passed out in bliss

You were perplexed with their little monologues, but replied nonetheless, "It's not the same. You can have all of that and crank them up to the max but you'll never be him." Your words broke between grunts of effort of getting out from under Beni's grip.

"Can't be everyones type, no matter how hot you are." You couldn't help but add in the tiny little taunt. In your defense, your tone was literally monotonous; not too provoking. You just really wanted to get outta there.

By god, was that a mistake.

Within seconds, you were pressed into this weird weird, weird position with Beni between your legs, hands held above your head in just one of his. His face in your neck. You were too confused, shocked to even holler.

He was sucking. Your hand was in his hair, scrunching, tugging the brightly-colored locks to get him off of you. He moaned in that slutty deep voice of his and rutted down like an animal in heat. With every pull of his hair, his flesh became hotter and hotter. These guys were a diverse group. You feared they had some pretty diverse kinks as well.

For the next minutes, the room was filled with the sound of Baby's lips against your skin. Wet and intense. And the sound of your angry and slightly scared grunts and groans-- winces of effort of escaping from this. All in futility.

Knowing how much it riled him up having his hair pulled, you'd learnt your lesson. You were tugging on the back of his shirt now, tiny legs squirming and kicking around his muscular thighs.

"We-- were-- having-- a conversation!!" You choked out between grunts of effort of pushing him off.

Vaguely, you could hear the sound of Jinu's tuts. "We can't even have a conversation without you riling up one of our boys, [Y/N]," wait a minute, OUR? You cringed.

Beni heard this and gave a frustrated huff before he removed himself. Pass all the dumb technicalities, and he could pounce on you however, whenever he wished as many times as he liked. He smiled to himself. Even wider when you shot him a murderous glare from the bed.

You shot up, and you felt the humiliating sting of tears in your eyes from having your neck sucked so hard, being pressed in such a helpless position for minutes on end. Horrified, you wipe them harshly with the back of your hand. This was traumatizing to say in the least.

"It's not my...he just attacked me!! And how do you know my name??"

Jinu solemnly held up the identification card he nicked from your purse and dodged when you launched yourself at him. He caught you in his other arm instead, holding the card in the other hand well out of your not-so-long reach.

"We'll be holding onto your documents for now." The card dissapeared from his hand before your eyes in a puff of red smoke.

You still couldn't quite believe it. You waved your hand above his palm a few times. It had really dissapeared. Jinu chuckled at your unwitting cuteness. You stumbled back. You were screwed.

"My little soda pop~" Abby chuckled, pulling you close by the waist and nuzzling your waist. You went rigid. This guy was huge. At the same time, you really didn't want him to know how terrified you were of him.

"Pull your top down it's making me nervous." You finally said, making your little wincing noises as you tried to pull away. They held back coos at the adorable noises. His cropped top rested just above his navel, showing a teasing hint of his abs. And you should have found it sexy like all other chicks, but it was really just intimidating as hell right now.

No doubt, he took this the wrong way. He let go of your waist. You hadn't even taken a step and you were yanked right back by your wrist.

There, in front of everyone, he lay back and pulled your small form effortlessly atop him. "Wah--!" Your voice had gone high pitched, using your hand against his right chest as an anchor as you tried to pull your hand away. Your knees on either side of his huge thighs.

"All yours," He winked. He had your hand against his unyielding abs. Bare abs; his shirt hooked up in his other thumb.

He was utterly and completely shameless. Poor you, you didn't even know how to voice your surprise. It came in the form of hiccups. "Hic-- h-hic...lemme go.. let my hand go-!!"

You didn't notice but they all marvelled at the way your small body twitched with your adorable little hiccups. The way you helplessly tried to muffle them and failed miserably.

"What, [Y/N]? Too much for you to handle~?" He was so mean, the way he was taunting. He punctuated his question with a upwards roll of his hips. It caused your small hand to unwittingly slide downwards and elicited an excited moan from his throat. The action was so obscene, you stopped breathing for a moment in mortification.

"I-- I don't understand-- why are you...why are you all acting like this? Why not just let me go-- hic--peacefully?"

"You're looking down like this at me and asking that? You really don't know??" Abby raised a flared brow, smiling even more.

You squirmed some more. To no avail. "I don't know! I don't fucking know!! I don't even care that you're demons or whatever so just lemme go!!"

"Oh honey," Romance purred in your ear. He slowly pulled you off of Abby. The latter actually shivered as your touch slid off of his abdomen.

"We are never letting you go."

"I still can't believe we're not hot enough for her." Baby Saja leaned on your shoulder and looked up at you, giving you puppy dog eyes. But there was a faint shimmer that travelled over his flawless skin. A glisten, that momentarily revealed purple patterns crawling across his flesh.

You burst out crying. Not because of the patterns. "You said I could go home, you said-- *sob*-- just a few questions and I could leave--"

"[Y/N]" Jinu said your name with that honey-sweet and hypnotizing voice of this. Innocent, as if they weren't all driving you to your wit's end. His large hand went to your waist, the other cupping your cheek and flicking away the tears before they could stain.

"We like you." They said it. At the same time, five pairs of eyes all on you. You laughed.

"You don't know me." You denied. Jinu was having none of it.

"You do know us, even if you don't realize it. We know you. Better than anyone ever has, better than that dead boyfriend of yours--"

SMACK

𝐓𝐁𝐂

⌗☾︎ ‧₊˚ ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶⋅₊˚☽︎⌗

TAGLIST--༉‧₊˚✧↳ @elevenbts @amery-benson-cvii @hornehlittleweeblet @little-ponkan @reni502 @nonetheartist

[kikyoupdates]

⭑˚🔮⭑ yandere!jjk x f!reader

yandere, reverse harem, isekai, jujutsu kaisen x fem!reader, slowburn, slowburn yandere

You don't know how or why, but you've been isekai'd into the world of Jujutsu Kaisen. Although your first instinct is to stay away from the plot, you've been blessed with an abnormal amount of cursed energy, and for better or worse, you find yourself sucked into the storyline. You decide that you may as well use your newfound powers for the greater good, and if you're lucky, you might succeed in rewriting some of the characters' fates. But it turns out that your presence in this world is an even bigger deal than you first thought, and soon, everyone wants to make you theirs.

00 — prologue 01 — budding friendship 02 — a sudden encounter 03 — set in motion 04 — fateful beginning 05 — anomaly 06 — what lies ahead 07 — moving in 08 — the last member 09 — teacher’s pet 10 — facing the future 11 — on the brink of death 12 — claimed 13 — in mourning 14 — entrusted with a secret 15 — long time no see 16 — memories erased 17 — rude intrusion 18 — someone dearly beloved 19 — a happy day 20 — seize the opportunity 21 — best friends 22 — everyone's favorite 23 — hand in hand 24 — foreboding 25 — cursed place

More chapters are available on Quotev and Ao3!

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