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softmothprince · 16 days ago

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The Crimson Pact | Part 1

Pairings: Yandere!Saja Boys x F!Reader ; SoulBond!AU 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. Parts: Characterizations | Part 2 | Part 3

Warnings: Soul bond with the Saja Boys, Yandere themes!, soulbonding without full consent, obsessive behavior / possessiveness, mild stalking, romantic psychological tension, mentions of implied past death / reincarnation, intense emotional fixation, yearning, non-graphic threats of harm from a third party (Gwi Ma).

Author's notes: Hey guys! My first fic on Tumblr. I've been deep in a hole for Saja boys x Reader fics and have been inspired by all the ones currently out. Thought I'd give it a go and make my own. This is also just me purely projecting my fantasies (lol). But will post more on this story and will make more parts!

───────── ༺🜃༻ ─────────

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.

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A Sudden Encounter

You’re just… tired.

You work long shifts at a cramped little gallery café in Hongdae. Your boss forgets to pay you on time. Rent’s due. Your roommate’s a ghost (figuratively). Your family doesn’t call.

It’s not tragic. Just quietly heavy. Most days are filled with the same mundane routine. The stress of adulting weighs in on you most nights making you feel more fatigued than you should.

Your art is the only thing that feels like yours—until it doesn’t. Lately, even your sketches look like someone else’s memories. The past few weeks of downtime have been spent sketching images you vaguely recognize from dreams you forgot you even had.

You walk through life like it’s background noise.

Then, one afternoon, on the way to grab milk and instant ramen…you hear music on the street.

Lugging your grocery trolley (because god knows you don’t have the strength to carry a week’s worth of grocery bags on your arms), you spot that a crowd has gathered in the plaza. The atmosphere buzzes with excitement. People are pushing each other to get a view of whatever it was that was making the crowd go nuts. Curiosity gets the best of you, and next thing you know you’re walking towards the center of the square. Grocery trolley rolling behind you. Someone steps on it, warranting a quick “Sorry” and they scurry to the front. You turn your head forward to see whatever it was they desperately wanted to see.

You stop.

Up on a raised platform, five boys move like a single body—synchronized, supernatural, magnetic. Their colorful outfits shimmer under the lights, a kaleidoscope of sugar-rush perfection. The crowd is screaming, but all you hear is the song—“Soda Pop”—sickeningly sweet and pulsing like thunder in your chest.

You don’t recognize them.

Were they new? A secret debut? A niche group you missed?

And then you see them.

The Saja Boys. Five gorgeous faces, carved out of dreams and danger, singing like they already know you.

Your heart stutters.

Front and center is the one with the jet-black hair and fire behind his smile. His eyes sweep the crowd like he owns it—until they lock on you. And then it’s like the world tips sideways.

You can’t breathe.

Something ancient uncoils in your ribcage—a thread pulling taut, like it’s found its anchor.

The stage beneath them morphs—no, rises—into a giant soda can, and the absurdity nearly makes you laugh, but the pressure in your chest is louder.

The song ends. The crowd erupts. They strike their final poses like gods frozen mid-conquest. And still—he’s looking at you. Right at you.

He lifts a hand, brushes off his shoulder like he’s dusting you into place. “That’s it for now,” he says to the crowd.

His speaking voice slides down your spine like silk dipped in fire. Familiar. Impossible.

“See you tonight on everyone’s favorite variety show…” His gaze doesn’t waver. “Saja Boys love you!”

You don’t know how you’re still standing. The other members turn too—one by one, their expressions shifting. Eyes no longer playful. They’re looking at you like they remember something you haven’t yet.

And then—pink smoke.

They vanish.

You’re left in a sea of people, lungs hollow, skin prickling like it’s just been marked.

You don’t know who they are. You don’t know what just happened. But your hands are shaking on the trolley handle. And you’re sprinting home like something inside you just woke up and started screaming.

────────── ⚘ ──────────

They apparated back into the apartment in a burst of cold smoke.

Jinu collapsed first.

Not into a chair. Not onto the couch. He sank straight to the floor.

Hands tangled in his hair, breath shallow. Like the air couldn’t reach deep enough. Like he’d been holding it for centuries. His voice cracked like something ancient being unearthed.

“It’s her.”

Romance was already pacing the length of the living room, long strides restless, fingers tugging at his shirt collar like it was choking him. “I—I thought I was hallucinating,” he muttered. “Some kind of cruel glamour. A mirage. But the bond—” His voice shook. “The bond snapped tight.”

Abby dropped into the couch, the cushions barely softening the weight of his frame. His knuckles were white, gripping his thighs. “I felt her heartbeat.” He looked up, dazed. Wild. “During the bridge—our hearts matched. I know it was her.”

Mystery hadn’t moved. He stood near the window, face shadowed, fists clenched so tight his nails carved into skin. His lips were moving in a near-silent whisper—over and over like a broken prayer.

“She’s scared… she doesn’t remember… but she felt it. She felt it.”

Baby sat furthest from them all, on the floor beside the armchair. Blood dripped from his palm—he didn’t seem to notice. Eyes wide. Hollow. Haunted.

Like seeing you broke the silence inside him. Like he’d finally found the ghost that’d been crawling under his skin for lifetimes.

No one breathed. The room felt cracked. Like a single touch would shatter it.

Abby ran a hand down his face. “What do we do?” He was still staring at his hands. Still disbelieving. “Is this a trick? Is Gwi Ma playing with us again? Using her face to haunt us?”

Jinu looked up slowly, lashes damp, lips pale. He bit the nail of his thumb, the taste of anxiety sharp on his tongue.

“We wait,” he said softly. “We plan.”

Romance scoffed, but there was no humor in it. He was trembling as he smiled.

“We charm.”

Mystery let out a low snarl. “We go to her. She’s alone. She’s hurting. I can feel her.”

And then—finally—Baby spoke. Just one line.

Quiet. Final. Unshakable.

“We take her back.”

────────── ⚘ ──────────

You curl up on your couch with a microwaved dinner, phone propped up on a cushion. You don’t normally watch idol shows. But…

You press play.

They’re charming. Playful. Competitive. Too beautiful. Too perfect. You watch them struggle with the hot sauce challenge, lips curling upwards at some of the boys’ faces.

Your chest aches.

You don’t know them. But you can’t look away.

When they joke, you laugh. When they flirt with the camera, your stomach flips. When Baby stares dead into the lens, you freeze.

You watch as Baby wins the spicy challenge, somehow a part of you knew he would. You couldn’t explain why. You watch as Huntrix makes a surprise appearance. You weren’t a crazed fanatic or anything, but you did enjoy their music. When they bowed at each other, a part of your chest ached. You don’t know why, but something didn’t sit well with you seeing the boys interact with the girl group. Why? You had no claim over them. You felt like you were going crazy.

You don’t sleep that night.

────────── ⚘ ──────────

Later that night, after filming wraps…

The Saja Boys find themselves ambushed by Huntrix—Rumi, Zoey, and Mira—demon-hunting girls who are too fast, too smart, and too close to the truth.

The boys run, Jinu being caught into a fight with Rumi which leads to him finding out her secret. A Hunter who’s part demon. He gives it some thought as he walks out of the bath house. Then, his thoughts shift to you.

Did you watch the show tonight? What were you doing right now? Did you remember him at all?

Then suddenly he’s pulled into Gwi Ma’s chamber.

Smoke. Fire. Screams locked in stone. The demons are cheering for the boys, now in their demon forms. Gwi Ma sings the chorus of Soda Pop.

“It’s catchy”

He brings up Rumi- the hunter who bears his mark. He tells Jinu he has no control over her. Jinu remains curious, telling him that he can find out her shame and use it against her to bring the Hunters down.

Then, Gwi Ma’s flames rise. The tension in the air thickens as the four other boys on the ground below are brouht to stand next to Jinu before the Demon King.

“However, I sense that you’ve lost your focus,” the Demon king hisses. His flames grow —and conjures a mirage image of you, asleep in bed, cheek pressed to your pillow. The boys tense at the sight of you.

Their anger rises. They don’t like that you’re being presented to them like this- in front of all demons to see. Of course- everyone else in the Demon realm had an inkling- an idea of what you were to the five. It was unspoken, a rumor that spread throughout the years - that they had tied their ancient souls to a human hundreds of years ago. But no details of that pact had been known. And now, the boys were livid as every demon knew your face.

Abby grit his teeth, immediately standing and stepping forward. He didn’t want any other demons seeing you, gazing at what was his. “Don’t-!”

Jinu grabbed his shoulder back, willing his friend to calm down, even though he was struggling to contain his own anger.

“That girl... is she going to be a problem? A… distraction?” His voice was teasing. A sickeningly playful tone meant to mock them.

The boys bristle, their jaws clenched as they see the demon king’s image of you. You- who was so precious to them. Jinu steps forward, eyes hard. “She is ours. You made it so. The pact cannot be undone.”

Gwi Ma’s image of you faded and the boys all visibly relaxed, though still tense.

Gwi Ma spoke once again, voice teasing. “You remember, don’t you, Jinu? How you came crawling to me, weeping like a child the moment she died in your arms.”

Jinu’s eyes widened, haunted at the memory.

Gwi Ma continued. “You begged me to bring her back. But I gave you something better.

A deal.

Bind four others to her soul. Trap their power. Anchor her across lifetimes—and I’d let her return.

And you did it.

You found them. Broken little things. Monsters like you. You forced the bond. You made her the center of your madness.

You cursed her to be wanted. Needed. Torn apart by obsession.

All for what?

To share her?

To watch her slip through your fingers again and again?”

The boys visibly grew more tense with every word he uttered. Romance grit his teeth, and Baby’s nails dug so deep into his palms they began to bleed again. They were monsters who desperately clung to the only light they had. Demons who tainted the purest thing they had ever laid eyes on. The guilt. The shame. All weigh heavy on their hearts, but not as heavy as their deep desire for you.

Gwi Ma continued. “No matter how close she gets… she’ll never truly be yours.

But if you succeed—if you finish what I told you to—maybe I’ll give her to you.

All of you.

For good.”

Their heads snapped up at that. Disbelief and false hope gleaming in their yellow demon eyes.

Gwi Ma’s flames shift to a smile as he saw their non-subtle desperation. “Then here’s my offer.”

“Succeed. Harvest the souls before the Honmoon seals, bring down the hunters. Do your job. And I’ll let her live.”

“Fail… and I rip her from the cycle. She’ll never be reborn again.”

The boys snap their heads up. Shock, desperation, and fury ablaze on their faces. He wouldn’t dare. The boys don’t speak. But silent thoughts race through their heads. They wouldn’t have to wait centuries for you? All the endless years of loneliness and suffering… if they succeeded, they’d be gone. And you would be theirs. Fully. No more dying, no more waiting. Theirs, for all eternity.

The offer was weighing heavy in their minds. But it wasn’t even a question. How far would they go to have you? The answer was that there were no limits. No lines they wouldn’t cross. No world they wouldn’t burn to keep you.

They just kneel, a silent agreement.

They’ve waited centuries. They can wait a little longer.

But this time, they won’t just protect you.

They’ll possess you.

────────── ⚘ ──────────

The boys apparated back to their apartment in silence.

No music. No lights. Just the faint, cold glow of Seoul’s skyline spilling through the penthouse glass like a wound that never closed.

They didn’t speak. They couldn’t. The memory of Gwi Ma’s offer still echoed like ash in their throats. The price was steep, yes—but the reward?

You. Untouched by his claws. Unwatched. Unmanipulated. Free.

If they could ensure your soul was yours—and theirs—forever… they would pay that price a thousand times over. So they agreed. Without hesitation. Without question. Now they sat in the dark, five demons and the shape of a girl in their hearts.

It was Abby who cracked first. “She looked cold,” he muttered.

His elbows rested on his knees, large hands clenched together so tightly the skin over his knuckles had gone pale. He wasn’t looking at the others. Just the floor. Somewhere past it. Somewhere where you had been.

“She looked cold in that vision. Like she hadn’t been held in years.” He swallowed thickly. “I’d keep her warm. She’d never feel cold again. Not even for a second.” His voice broke near the end.

“She should’ve been with us.” Romance was standing by the tall windows, framed in moonlight, arms crossed tight like he was holding his chest together. “She doesn’t even remember us,” he said softly. “We’re strangers again.”

He tried to sound nonchalant—but his voice cracked on ‘again’.

Baby didn’t move from the couch. His legs were crossed, jaw tight, nails digging crescent moons into his thigh. “Then we make her remember.” He looked up. Eyes black.

“Tie her down if we have to.”

No one told him to take it back. Because all of them had thought it.

From the corner, curled on a throw blanket like a resting animal, Mystery breathed out a long, aching sigh. He was clutching something close to his chest. Your scarf. One from a lifetime ago. The threadbare edges frayed, carrying a scent only he still recognized. He’d stolen it then, kept it hidden through each century. He never let it burn.

“She cried last night,” he whispered. The room went still. “I felt it.”

They turned.

“She misses us,” he said. His voice was too soft for the size of his pain. “Even if she doesn’t know why. Even if her brain doesn’t remember—her soul does. She sees us in dreams. She reaches out.”

No one doubted him. Mystery had always been the tether. The first to feel you across lives. The first to know. He curled tighter around the scarf like it could bring you back. “She reaches,” he whispered. “But we’re not there.”

Silence again.

Then Jinu stood. The weight of four centuries in every breath he took. He moved like a monarch of grief—shoulders squared, spine straight, eyes dark and steady.

“We need a plan,” he said. The words dropped like stone. “No chaos. No claiming. Not yet.” His gaze passed over each of them, firm.

“We woo her. Win her. Make her feel safe.”

Abby let out a bitter snarl. “I don’t want to pretend. I want to take her.”

Jinu’s jaw tensed.

“So do I,” he said. “But not if it means she runs. Not if she thinks we’re monsters.”

“Are we not?” Baby asked coldly. But it wasn’t really a challenge. It was despair.

“We’re hers,” Jinu replied. “That’s all that matters.”

The silence that followed wasn’t empty—it was thick with agreement. Each boy looked down. And one by one, they nodded. For now, they’d wait. But not forever.

You would remember.

You would come back.

And when you did— You’d never be allowed to leave again.

────────── ⚘ ──────────

You didn’t know why you were out this late.

You told yourself it was for a snack. The cold night air. The glow of convenience store signs. But the truth was burrowed beneath your ribs—tight, restless, and waiting. Something inside you itched, tugged. Like an invisible string pulling you down familiar streets.

You turned the corner and froze.

“Y/N?”

A voice. Soft, velvety, soaked in a sadness you didn’t understand. You looked up.

Jinu.

Standing beneath a flickering streetlight like a secret carved out of the night. Hoodie loose over his frame. Hair tousled, moonlight catching in the strands. His eyes locked with yours.

Your breath caught.

He took a step forward, hands raised slightly—like approaching a wounded animal. “Didn’t mean to scare you,” he said gently. “I just… recognized you.”

Recognized? Your heart began to pound. Hard. “How do you know my name?” you asked.

Jinu smiled. But it wasn’t cocky or flirty. It was aching. “Because it’s the only name that ever mattered to me.”

And that’s when it happened. A flicker behind your eyes. No—it wasn’t a flicker.

It was a memory. A feeling. A lifetime cracking through your skull like thunder.

You saw him.

Not here. Not in this hoodie, not on this street. But in crimson silk beneath a palace moon. A hanbok embroidered in gold, eyes lined with kohl. He reached for you across a garden of foxglove. Your name spilled from his lips like scripture.

And then—

“Y/N.”

Another voice. Close. Too close. Romance stepped beside you, holding a book. One from your wishlist. The exact one you’d looked at two days ago online and never bought.

You took it in trembling hands. His voice dropped to a murmur. “Because I’ve been whispering it for hundreds of years.”

The world spun.

Another vision. His fingers on yours. A past version of you, crying. Him kissing your knuckles in the candlelight.

“Because I’ve never stopped saying it,” Abby said now, appearing at your side, holding— Your scarf. The one that went missing days ago. “Even when you weren’t alive to hear it.”

FLASH. There was blood on his hands. A blade meant for you. Abby standing between it and your body, screaming your name.

Your knees went weak. You staggered. The breath in your lungs turned jagged.

A gentle touch. Behind you.

Mystery. Quiet. Wide-eyed. Fingertips brushing the sleeve of your coat like he was afraid you’d dissolve.

“I’ve known your name longer than you have,” he whispered.

You blinked—

And you were in the mountains. Your hands small. Younger. A fox curled against your legs. You were humming. He was warm. It wasn’t possible. It wasn’t real. It couldn’t be.

Across the street— Baby. Still. Watching. Eyes black as obsidian. And then—

The fire.

A palace burning. Bodies. You, screaming. Baby dragging corpses away with one hand while shielding you with the other.

You gasped. Your vision blurred. Your hands shook. You didn’t know if you were crying. But you felt like you were breaking.

Romance reached out, arm around your shoulders, steadying your frame.

“She’s remembering,” Mystery said, voice trembling. “She’s starting to remember.”

You didn’t hear them clearly. Your ears rang. Your body pulsed like a struck bell. Romance’s forehead pressed to yours, voice like velvet and ashes. “We missed you,” he breathed. “So much it drove us mad.”

Abby was pacing now, unable to stay still. His eyes burned. “You smell like home,” he choked. “I forgot what that felt like.”

Baby hadn’t moved, but he looked like he might lunge. His fists were clenched. His shoulders tight. His jaw locked.

His eyes were nothing but shadow.

He wanted you.

Jinu stepped forward, palm raised like a commandment. “Stop,” he said. Sharp. Firm. “She’s scared.”

He was right. You were. Tears blurred your eyes. The world spun again. “Who… who are you?” you asked, barely a whisper. “What do you want from me?”

Abby took one step. “We’re yours,” he said, voice low.

Jinu caught his arm. “Abby—”

“You were ours,” Romance added, lips brushing your temple. “You will be again.”

“No—no, this isn’t real—this can’t be—” You backed up. “You’re crazy.”

You looked into their eyes for the first time. And your blood ran cold.

Not human.

They were glowing. Amber. Topaz. Garnet. Glasses of gold and rage and want.

You didn’t think—you ran. Your footsteps slammed into the alleyway pavement. Breath heaving. Vision swimming. You ran like your soul was on fire.

And behind you— They didn’t follow.

They stood, the five of them, like statues in mourning. Longing. Rage. Grief. Hunger.

Mystery whimpered once.

Baby’s fists dripped blood from his own grip.

“We scared her,” Jinu muttered, teeth grit. Shame painting his face. “We were supposed to make her feel safe.” His voice was raw.

“She looked at us like we were monsters.” Abby slammed a fist into the wall. “She didn’t even recognize me.”

Romance still watched the alley’s end where your shadow had vanished. His lips curled into something bittersweet. “Not yet,” he said. “But she will.”

The other boys turned. He smiled wider. Devastating. Determined. “Now?”

His voice dropped.

“We seduce her.”

────────── ⚘ ──────────

You don’t remember getting home. One moment you were running. The next, your apartment door slammed shut behind you. You locked it. Bolted it. Double-checked it.

Then you fell.

Not gracefully—like a collapse, like a marionette whose strings had been severed. You’re curled on the floor now, your fingers tangled in the hem of your clothes, your back pressed to the side of the bed. Shaking. Silent. Your chest is heaving, but the air doesn’t reach your lungs. You’re not crying because you’re sad.

You’re crying because you’re losing your mind. Every time you close your eyes… they’re there.

Jinu in royal silk, kneeling in the blood-soaked courtyard of a Joseon palace—his eyes hollow, your lifeless hand in his lap.

Romance cradling your head by a lake turned black from poison—screaming into your mouth like he could breathe life back into you.

Abby roaring over a field of corpses—his armor cracked, clutching you as smoke swallowed the sky.

Mystery baring his fangs at priests dragging you away—his form shifting between beast and boy, voice howling your name like a prayer.

And Baby—oh god.

Baby in a burning chamber, crawling toward your corpse through ash. His smile was carved wrong, twitching, shattered—his arms cradling your body like a doll as fire devoured the world around him.

You cover your ears. You curl tighter. Your bones ache. “These aren’t mine,” you whisper. “They aren’t mine—”

But they feel like they are.

The grief. The rage. The longing. The love. Too much love. It presses against your ribs like a dam waiting to crack. And deep—deep—within your chest… something stirs. Something ancient. Something hungry.

You drag yourself under the blankets. Trembling. Numb. You don’t sleep. Sleep claims you.

And you never hear the figures outside your window. Five of them. Silent on the balcony.

Jinu’s hand is on the glass, forehead pressed lightly to the cold. His eyes are shut, breath fogging the surface. He had to see you. Just once more. Even if it killed him.

Romance stands beside him, one hand in his coat pocket, the other pressed to his lips like he might say something—but doesn’t. He just watches. Unblinking.

Abby paces behind them, boots scuffing against concrete. Every noise inside your room makes his head whip toward the door. He wants to kick it down. Drag you into his arms. Keep you warm. Keep you close.

Mystery is curled beside the potted plants. His ears twitch. His claws dig into the concrete. He hears your breathing. He knows when your sleep shifts. He knows you’re dreaming.

And Baby— Baby stands furthest from the glass. He doesn't move.Just stares at your sleeping form through the sheer curtain. His eyes are too wide. His hands are in his pockets, but the blood dripping from them gives him away. He clenches his jaw. He had wanted to go after you. To hold you. To punish anyone who scared you. But Jinu made them promise.

No chaos. Not yet. They all told themselves they were here to make sure you got home safe. But deep down, none of them believed that. They were here because they needed to see you one last time. Because you were in their veins now.

Because the bond was waking.

And soon—you’d be theirs again.

───────── ༺🜃༻ ───────── Author's note: Let me know if you guys enjoyed this? I plan to expand more into the backstories as their relationship develops. I've got characterizations up just for a teaser that I might post tonight. :) With love, Willa x.

6K notes · View notes

softmothprince · 16 days ago

Text

Bound to Them

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 1: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰

𝐒𝐚𝐣𝐚 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐬 𝐱 𝐌𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐫! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Part 2

𝒔𝒚𝒏𝒐𝒑𝒔𝒊𝒔: 𝒀𝒐𝒖’𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒇𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒆. 𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚’𝒗𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒘𝒂𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈. 𝑵𝒐𝒘 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚’𝒓𝒆 𝒄𝒊𝒓𝒄𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒄𝒓𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒃𝒂𝒓𝒆𝒍𝒚 𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒏𝒆𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒄𝒍𝒂𝒊𝒎 𝒚𝒐𝒖. 𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝒅𝒐𝒏’𝒕 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕’𝒔 𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒆𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈. 𝑩𝒖𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒃𝒐𝒅𝒚 𝒅𝒐𝒆𝒔.𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒏𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒎𝒆𝒂𝒏𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒔𝒖𝒓𝒗𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒍𝒅 𝒖𝒏𝒕𝒐𝒖𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒅. 𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒎𝒆𝒂𝒏𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓𝒔.

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: 𝑶𝒃𝒔𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒗𝒆, 𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆, 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒓𝒎𝒂𝒍/𝒅𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒃𝒐𝒏𝒅, 𝑬𝒎𝒐𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒍 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒑𝒉𝒚𝒔𝒊𝒄𝒂𝒍 𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏 (𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆𝒔), 𝑺𝒕𝒆𝒂𝒎𝒚 𝒔𝒄𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒔, 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝒅𝒚𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒊𝒄𝒔, 𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒗𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒆, 𝑰𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒅 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝒐𝒏𝒍𝒚 (18+)

𝑨/𝑵: 𝑯𝒆𝒚 𝒈𝒖𝒚𝒔 💋 𝑹𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒔 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒏! 𝑮𝒐𝒕 𝒂 𝒔𝒄𝒆𝒏𝒆 𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒂, 𝒂 𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖’𝒓𝒆 𝒅𝒚𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒐 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅, 𝒐𝒓 𝒂 𝒎𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕 𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑺𝒂𝒋𝒂 𝑩𝒐𝒚𝒔? 𝑻𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝒎𝒆. 𝑰 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖. 😈 𝑵𝒐𝒘 𝒃𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒍𝒆 𝒖𝒑. 𝑰𝒕’𝒔 𝒐𝒏𝒍𝒚 𝒈𝒐𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒐 𝒈𝒆𝒕 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒌𝒆𝒓—𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒉𝒐𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓—𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆.

—𝑬𝒎𝒓𝒚𝒔 🖤

w/c: 4k

comments and reblogs would be appreciated!

The sleek glass doors shut behind you with a soft hiss.

Click.

You inhale—shallow, sharp. Straighten your blouse. Will your hands to stop shaking. The receptionist gives you a polite nod and disappears.

Then it’s just you… and the door.

You can feel the weight of it. Of what’s behind it.

The silence. The pressure.

You already know who’s waiting.

The Saja Boys.

Five idols who rose from nowhere and took the industry by storm.

Unreachable.

Unstoppable.

Too perfect to be human.

You take a breath as the door opens.

You don’t feel the tension—not until the door clicks shut and five pairs of eyes lock onto you, all at once.

And suddenly, you feel it.

Something shifts

When she walked in, they didn’t just notice her.

They felt her.

And it nearly destroyed their restraint.

The office is quiet. White walls. Cold lights. Sanitized stillness.

But the moment your foot crosses the threshold—

Five heads turn.

Five bodies go still.

And then— The scent hits them.

You.

Soft. Warm. Theirs.

The bond snaps tight.

Jinu is the first to react.

His spine straightened so fast it felt like lightning shot through it. And for a moment—just one trembling moment—Jinu forgot who he was supposed to be. Forgot the polished idol image, the perfect self-control, the hundreds of rules he’d buried himself beneath.

Because you were standing in front of him.

Soft. Radiant. Meant for him.

Theirs.

“No one moves,” he murmurs to the others, voice like velvet over a blade. “Do not shift. Don’t even breathe.”

Not when you were standing there like that.

Not when his control was already this close to snapping.

His knuckles were white. His thighs were tense under the table. And his eyes—those burning, gold-flickering eyes—never left you.

Beside him, Abby twitches. His nostrils flare. The trademark smirk is gone, replaced by something raw. Animal.

His nostrils flare once.

And then—

He purrs.

A deep, rumbling growl laced with longing and hunger. “Shit,” he breathes, gaze locked to your lips like he wants to feel every sound you’ve ever made. “That smell. It’s her. It’s really her.”

The bond is hitting too fast. Too hard.

Romance’s leg drops from the couch, his body tensing like a current just jolted through him. He blinks once—slowly. Then his tongue swipes over his bottom lip, slow and deliberate, like he’s already savoring something forbidden.

“Fucking hell,” he mutters, head tipping back for a breath that does nothing to cool him down. “I knew she’d be gorgeous,” he murmurs, voice low and reverent. His hand drags down the front of his slacks, subtly adjusting himself with a hiss through his teeth, his jaw tight.

“But this…” His eyes rake down your body.

“Fuck,” he exhales, jaw tight. His head drops back for a second, and when he looks at you again, his eyes are dark and glazed.

“She’s too much,” he murmurs, voice strained. “One look and I’m already—”

He doesn’t finish.

Doesn’t need to.

The way his fingers linger at his waistband says enough.

“Why do I want to devour her?”

Then his gaze drops. Scans the curve of your thighs, the flutter of your breath, the tremble you’re trying so hard to hide—and he purrs too.

Quieter, but deeper.

Hungrier.

Baby, the one who never shows anything, suddenly pushes up from his seat, jaw clenched, eyes narrowed like he’s fighting something inside himself.

“Because she’s ours,” he growls. “She’s made of everything we were promised. And we’re not letting her go.”

And Mystery?

Mystery doesn’t rise. He jerks like he’s been burned.

His gaze? Locked on your throat like it’s the only thing in the world he wants to touch, taste, mark.

He breathes in once.

Then purrs.

A long, rumbling, possessive purr that vibrates the air.

“Mate,” he croaks. “Mine.”

“Ours,” Jinu snaps. Quiet. Taut with restraint. His canines peek behind his lips.

You stop mid-step, caught in their collective stare.

Your pulse flutters. Your breath trembles.

Still, you try.

“Um… hello,” you begin softly, forcing a smile. Your fingers tighten on your resume. “My name is—”

But the second your voice breaks the silence—

The sound shatters them.

They all inhale. Hard.

Abby curses under his breath, dragging a hand through his hair. “Oh, fuck. She sounds even better than I imagined.”

You blink. Your cheeks flush.

You’re not sure why it feels like the room is getting smaller, like their stares are pressing against your skin. “I—I’m here for the manager position,” you manage to say, voice wobbling slightly.

Romance lets out a choked moan and grips the back of the couch so hard his knuckles bleach white, clawing into the leather.

“She sounds like heaven,” he groans.” Jinu—fuck—say something. Do something. Before I put her on my lap and—”

“Shut up,” Jinu snaps, golden eyes never leaving you. “Not now. Not yet.”

His voice cracks like a whip, but it’s the only thing keeping Romance from losing it.

Romance doesn’t apologize. Doesn’t pretend to be sorry.

He just licks his lips again, chest heaving, pupils blown wide with hunger.

And his claws?

They’re still embedded in the couch.

Because if they weren’t…

They’d be on you.

His eyes never leave you. Not even for a second.

Mystery makes a sound from deep in his chest—barely a growl, more like a purr, dark and rumbling. His claws are dug into the leather of the armrest, his knuckles pale. The tension in his jaw is brutal.

Baby looks calm, but the white grip of his hand on the table says otherwise. His shoulders are too still. His nostrils flare with every breath you take, like your scent is coating his lungs.

He looks starved.

And Jinu…

Jinu doesn’t move. But his fingers flex—once—on the table. His claws extend, clicking softly against the wood.

They don't blink.

They don't breathe.

The air is suffocating—saturated with your scent, your voice, the unmistakable tension of a bond that has already begun wrapping around all of you.

You shift slightly, heart stuttering.

Their stares don’t just watch.

They burn.

“She’s shaking already,” Abby murmurs with a slow, hungry grin. “Cute.”

You flinch.

Your fingers tighten around your resume. Your shoulders twitch. Your knees feel like they might give.

You didn't mean to react.

But gods—you did.

You’re flushed. Too warm. Your breath catches in your throat and you swear you can feel every pair of eyes on your skin.

Romance inhales slowly like he’s savoring your scent. “She likes it,” he says softly. “She’s trembling because of us.”

Abby hums behind him. “Of course she does.” His voice drops to a near-growl. “She feels the pull. Even if she doesn’t understand it yet—her body does.”

Your soul knows.

Your pulse flutters so hard it aches.

You open your mouth to speak, desperate to ground yourself. “I—um, I’m here for the—”

You can’t finish. Your voice fails.

And that’s when one of the staff—smirking, oblivious—laughs from the back of the room.

“Seriously? She’s already shaking just from being looked at? She won’t last a day around idols if she’s this weak.”

You didn’t mean to react.

Just a twitch. Shoulders tightening. Eyes dropping for a second.

And they noticed it.

The world… snaps.

The change is immediate. Violent. Silent.

Jinu doesn’t speak.

He turns.

Slowly.

Deliberately.

His golden gaze slices the air—sharp, frozen, lethal.

Romance’s smirk drops.

His head tilts. His eyes go cold.

“He thinks he’s funny,” Romance says. The venom is quiet—but unmistakable. “That’s cute.”

Mystery growls.

Actually growls. A low, animalistic sound that vibrates in his chest and makes the walls seem too thin. He doesn't blink. He stares the man down like a predator tracking prey.

And for a second—just a flash—you thought you saw fangs.

What… what are they?

The temperature in the room drops. The lights seem too bright now. The air too thin.

Abby doesn’t even try to hide it. He stands, rolling his shoulders with a crack. The heat that pours off him makes the room feel too small.

“You’re lucky she’s still here,” he says, teeth bared in a grin that’s all hunger and threat. “We’re already holding back more than you deserve.”

Baby doesn’t say much. But the way he moves from leaning to standing—slowly, deliberately—makes the message clear.

Back off.

You can't move. You can barely breathe.

Their fury isn’t just protective—it’s obsessive.

It’s possessive in the way fire consumes everything it touches.

You blink—your whole body trembling now—and the worst part?

You love it.

Jinu tilts his head slightly, the gold in his eyes catching the light just right.

“Everyone out,” he says.

Silence.

“This is a closed meeting now,” Jinu continues, voice low, firm. Final. “You weren’t invited to speak. And you won’t again.”

The manager hesitates. Opens his mouth. Closes it.

The others around him begin to shuffle out—no one looking back. Not one of them dares meet your eyes. Or theirs.

And the second the door clicks shut—

Silence returns.

But now… it's heavier. Hotter.

You don’t move. You don’t even breathe too loudly.

Not when five of the most powerful idols in the industry—men the world worships—are staring at you like they want to devour you.

Not with their fans.

Not with their fame.

With something deeper.

Darker.

Their eyes are all different, but every pair is locked on you.

You stood in the center of it—fingers clenched, heart pounding like it wanted out of your chest.

Abby’s hand twitched at his side. He stared like he was holding himself together with raw instinct alone.“I need to touch her,” he breathed, and it wasn’t a question.

“We found her,” Baby muttered, like he still couldn’t believe it. His voice was a hush, reverent. “We found our mate.”

The words settled. Sank. The room grew darker. Heavier. The bond pulling tight like it was breathing through them.

Jinu’s command cracked through the air like ice. “Control yourselves.” But even his voice trembled now. His smile was cracking, fangs just starting to peek through as the gold in his eyes gleamed brighter.

Romance moved first.

Not fast. Not reckless.

Predatory.

A slow, deliberate circle—his body a storm winding around the eye. You. He inhaled, deep and shaky, like your scent was feeding him.

He reached up, fingers brushing your lips. So gentle it made you shiver. He tilted your chin just enough to study your mouth, the tremble in your lashes, the flush rising beneath your skin.

“So soft,” he murmured, the words like silk against your flesh.

Then lower—closer

“This mouth…”

His thumb grazed your bottom lip.

“…Do you even know what it does to us?”

You try to step back.

But there’s no room.

Abby’s already behind you, body heat pressing in, his chest flush against your back—broad, hard, unyielding.

His palm slid over your waist.

Slow.

Possessive.

Intentional.

Not quite touching—just enough to make your breath hitch.

He leaned in. His breath kissed your neck. “She smells too fucking good,” he growls, almost pained.

His lips grazed your skin. A feather-soft press. Like he needed to memorize you by taste.

You whimper

The smallest sound. A breath, barely audible.

But it’s enough.

Enough to snap the fragile tension in the room like glass.

Abby shudders violently behind you. His grip on your waist tightens. “There it is,” he growls into your hair. “Say it again, angel. Make it for me. That perfect little sound.”

Romance groaned like it physically hurt. “Don’t do that,” he said, voice cracking as his hand cupped your jaw. “Don’t make that sound unless you’re ready to be ruined.”

Behind you, Abby cursed under his breath, lips brushing your ear. “You don’t even know what you’re doing to us.”

And then they purred.

A deep, thrumming sound that vibrates through your spine, into your ribs, into your skull. It surrounds you. Drowns you. Fills your chest with heat and pressure and need.

And your mind?

Your mind is no longer safe.

You were made for them.

You belong to them.

You gasped.

“You feel it, don’t you?” Romance whispered, dragging a single finger down your throat. “That pull. That ache. You don’t even know why you need us… but you do.”

Your knees buckled—and Abby caught you.

Strong arms curled around your waist, pulling you back into his chest. “Say it,” he growled into your hair. “Tell us what you need.”

“I-I don’t understand,” you gasped, voice trembling, eyes wide.

You didn’t understand what was happening.

Why your body was so aware of theirs.

Why your chest ached.

Behind Romance, Mystery shifts.

A low, rumbling purr vibrates from his chest—feral and drawn out. His golden eyes are glowing now. He hasn’t moved an inch, but the air around him crackles with the tension of someone on the edge.

“She’s submitting,” he rasps, voice ragged. “She doesn’t even know it yet.”

Romance hums low in his throat close to a purr. “Oh, she knows. Look at her.”

His fingers trail down your throat again, slower this time. Teasing. Taunting “Her body knows who she belongs to. Look at her. She likes it.”

The pressure is building. Your thighs squeeze together. You’re burning from the inside out and the only thing that will fix it is them.

And in your mind—

Something curls. Something gives in.

Be a good girl for them.

Let go.

You’re already theirs.

And then you say it.

Soft. Broken. Barely a whisper.

“Please.”

Every single one of them reacts.

Romance lets out a trembling exhale, teeth flashing behind his parted lips. “That’s it, baby,” he murmurs, lips parting in awe. “Good girl… give us more of that.”

Abby freezes behind you, fingers pressing tighter into your waist like he's anchoring himself to your skin.

Baby flinches. His shoulders tense, and for a second—just a second—something in his skin glows. Flickers. Twitches.

You see something dark shimmer beneath the surface. Something barely restrained.“Shit,” he hisses. “They’re triggering it.”

Baby’s jaw is tight, his golden eyes sharp and gleaming.

He doesn’t touch you. Not yet.

But he watches you like you’re already his to ruin.

“More,” Mystery hisses. His voice is low, feral, close. Too close. You don’t know when he moved behind you, but now you feel him. His heat. His breath. The sharp scrape of claw grazing your hip. “Let her make that sound again.”

Romance’s hands hover at your waist, trembling with restraint. “Do it again, baby,” he purrs, voice thick. “Be a good girl for us. Let us hear what we do to you.”

Abby leans in, lips brushing the curve of your neck so softly it steals your breath. “Beg, pretty girl,” he growls into your skin. “Come on. Give it to us.”

Your thighs press together, involuntarily. Your breath shudders.

“P-Please—” you choke, voice breaking as your lashes flutter. You don’t even know what you’re asking for anymore. Just that you need it.

Abby buries his face in your hair. “Fuck, she’s perfect,” he growls. “She doesn’t even know what that word does to us.”

Romance groans like it physically hurts.

He drags one hand up to cup your jaw, tilting your head just enough for his lips to hover by yours—so close, so warm. Not kissing. Just owning the space around you.

“Please what?”

Baby steps closer, suddenly in front of you, his voice velvet and burning. “Say it again, sweetheart.” His eyes lock onto yours, pupils blown wide. “Say what you’re begging for.”

You can’t look at him.

You can’t look at any of them.

“I—” You swallow. “I don’t know what’s happening. I just—please…”

You whimper again, soft and desperate.

And it breaks something.

Romance makes a low, pained sound like it hurts to hold back. “Fuck. She’s begging.”

“I can’t take it,” Abby growls, low and raw, and buries his face in your neck like he’s seconds from sinking his teeth in. “She smells like she wants us to ruin her.”

“She does,” Mystery rumbles, his voice raw. “She wants it. She wants us.”

And then you hear it.

Them.

All of them.

Purring.

Low. Vibrational. Possessive.

It rolls from their chests like thunder held on a leash. The kind of sound that wraps around your spine and makes you tremble.

You melt.

Jinu hasn’t moved from the center of the room. But his jaw is clenched, and his golden eyes are molten. “She’s trembling,” he says. “Don’t make her afraid.”

“She’s not afraid,” Abby murmurs. “She’s aroused.”

And gods, you are.

You wish they were wrong.

You wish your thighs weren’t pressed together, your skin flushed and burning.

But they know.

They feel it.

And when Romance finally dips low enough to brush his lips against your shoulder—

You let out the softest, most desperate little moan that’s ever left your throat.

And that’s the end of it.

Their composure cracks.

“Shit,” Abby snarls, stepping in tighter against you, practically caging you with his heat.

“You keep making that sound,” Romance murmurs, voice thick with restraint as he leans in. His lips brush beneath your ear, soft and deliberate. “And we’re going to lose it.”

He presses a kiss just under your jaw. Then another, slower, lower—trailing heat along your throat. Not your lips. Not yet.

His hand cradles the back of your neck, firm and possessive. “Is that what you want, pretty girl?” he breathes against your skin. “To see what happens when we stop holding back?”

“No,” you whisper.

Yes.

Mystery growls—the real kind this time, low and guttural. “Good girl,” he murmurs. “Already learning how to submit.

“Say it,” Baby commands, his voice rough now. “Say you’re ours.”

The bond tightens like a noose.

You’re burning.

And that’s when Jinu snaps.

You hear the sound before you see it—wood tearing as his claws split through the polished table.

A warning. A command. A fight for control.

“Control yourselves.”he growls, voice dark and shaking. “She’s not ready.”

But you are.

Your body is. Your soul is.

It’s just your nerves that falter.

Your hands tremble when Abby presses close, his chest firm against your back. His breath ghosts over your skin, ragged with restraint, lips hovering just above your neck.

“She was made for this,” he growls, low and aching. “Made to beg. Made to be ours.”

He dips his head—and kisses you.

Slow.

Possessive.

Right beneath your ear.

“Our girl.”

At the same time, Romance steps in close from the front, his fingers cradling your jaw, tilting your chin up for him like you already belong to him. “To be kissed,” he whispers, eyes flicking over every inch of your face like it’s sacred. “To be worshipped.”

“Ours.”

He dips down—not to your lips—but to your throat.

He kisses there first. Then lower.

Across your collarbone.

Your shoulder.

Their mouths move over you in sync—Abby breathing you in behind your ear, Romance trailing heat over your chest, your neck, your jawline. Like you’re something holy. Something that belongs to them.

And you do.

Your mouth parts. The word nearly falls.

You want them. Gods, you want them.

But five bodies. Five voices. Their scents wrapping around you like velvet chains.

The heat. The hunger.

The bond pulling tighter, tighter—

You’re drowning in them. And you love it.

But your body… can’t take it.

The room closes in. Your chest tightens.

Your body says yes.

Your soul says yes.

But your nerves scream “run.”

You step back again. They feel like fire closing in around you. You barely know them, but your body is already reacting—bonding. “Wait,” you breathe, backing up a step. “I—I need a second—”

Romance’s smile falters. Abby’s fingers twitch.

“Don’t run,” Baby murmurs, his arms are crossed, but his eyes track every breath you take. He shifts like he might move—like he wants to move.

“We won’t hurt you,” Romance says softly. His voice is almost pleading. “Just… don’t leave yet.”

You’re shaking. “I can’t—” you breathe, voice small. “I need to leave.”

And then—before anyone can stop you— You turn.

And you run.

You push past Romance’s arm. Your shoulder brushes his chest. He lets you go, jaw tight, muscles taut like a held scream.

You make it to the door. You reach for the handle—

And behind you, everything erupts.

They move instantly.

“Wait—” Abby’s voice is sharper now, almost a growl. “Where are you—”

Romance reaches for you. Mystery flinches forward.

And then—

“Stop.”

Jinu’s voice cuts through everything like a blade dipped in ice.

Everything freezes.

Even the air feels still—held, tense, burning.

Abby growls. Romance drags both hands through his hair and curses.

Mystery lets out a guttural purr, his claws twitching as he watches the door close behind you.

Baby just exhales sharply, eyes still locked on where you stood.

“Let her.” Jinu’s voice is calm. Too calm.

A storm held behind golden eyes.

Silence descends.

Heavy.

Trembling.

Abby’s fists curl. His jaw ticks, breath ragged. “She was—she was about to beg again.”

“She was ours in that moment,” Romance snarls, pacing like he’s seconds from shifting. “Her voice—fuck, that sound—do you know what that did to me?”

Mystery hasn’t moved.

But his golden eyes glow with a slow, simmering burn.

His voice, when it comes, is hoarse. Strained. “She ran.”

Baby doesn’t speak. He just watches the door like he can see through it. Like any second she’ll come back through it and throw herself into their arms.

His hands tremble at his sides.

“Let her breathe,” Jinu says quietly—but there’s nothing calm in him anymore. His voice is tight. Controlled. Dangerous. “She doesn’t understand what’s happening yet. But she will.”

No one speaks.

“She’s ours. You smelled it. You felt it. So did she.” His jaw clenches. His voice dips “And if you chase her now, she’ll run harder.”

Romance paces, frustrated. “She wanted it. She was trembling. You saw her. She was seconds from falling apart for us.”

Abby’s voice is broken. Barely held together. “She made that sound,” he grits out, eyes wide and wild. “That sound that’s going to haunt me. That little whimper. That plea. She gave it to us. And now I can’t fucking breathe without hearing it again.”

They fall silent again.

Not because there’s nothing more to say—

But because the bond has already said it.

Because they can still feel her.

Out in the hallway.

Running.

But tethered.

Tangled.

The bond never breaks. It just tightens.

And gods, she feels it too.

You lean against the wall just out of view, gasping softly, hand to your chest like you’re trying to keep your heart from tearing through your ribs.

They're still inside.

And you feel them.

Their tension. Their desire. Their claim.

Like invisible fingers wrapped around your ribs, pulling.

Their voices echo in your memory.

Say it.

Beg for it.

Be a good girl for us.

You’re ours now.

Your lips part. Your chest rises. You can barely breathe.

You should be terrified.

But you’re not.

A part of you—deep and trembling and starving—wants to turn around, throw the door open, fall to your knees and whisper what they’ve been aching to hear.

I’m yours.

Back inside, Mystery stiffens.

He lifts his head slowly, golden eyes glowing.

“…She’s still close,” he murmurs, voice hoarse. “I can feel her. She didn’t leave.”

Jinu’s jaw is locked tight, but the burn in his eyes betrays him. His voice is cold steel wrapped in heat. “She will,” he says. “She’ll try to run. But she’ll crawl back.”

A pause.

“And when she does…”

Abby smiles—slow and terrifying. “We won’t let her leave”

“The bond has already begun,” Jinu says quietly, stepping toward them. “She’s tangled in it as deeply as we are.”

His canines flash. “She feels it too. I know she does.”

This time, no one stops smiling.

No one pretends.

Romance steps toward the door and rests his palm against it, eyes fluttering shut like he’s praying.

But there’s nothing innocent in the prayer. Just hunger.

“When she comes back,” he says softly, “we take her.”

Abby growls deep in his chest. “No more soft touches. No more teasing her with what we could give.” He steps forward, voice dark with promise. “Next time, she gets everything.”

A low, rumbling purr vibrates from Baby’s chest. “Everything she begged for,” he murmurs, voice like silk-wrapped sin. “And everything her pretty little body’s still too shy to admit it needs.”

Jinu turns, his golden eyes flickering with something dark and endless.

“No matter how far she runs…”

His lips curve—not a smile. Something deeper. Hungrier. Fated.

“…she’s already ours.”

A beat.

A breath.

Then, lower—richer—deadly tender

“And we’ve been hers from the second she stepped into this room.”

They don’t chase.

Not tonight.

But the heat of their restraint crackles in the air like lightning about to strike. Their bodies are tight with the need to move. Their teeth ache to sink in. Their hands are still open, waiting—aching—to feel you again.

And when you come back—because you will—

they’ll be ready.

Not to ask. Not to beg.

To claim.

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