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Not bruises. Not ink.

Faintly red, almost carved beneath the skin, circling your arm like a band. Each one different in shape and width, uneven yet deliberate, as though branded there by something that knew exactly what it wanted.

You touched them with trembling fingers.

One was thin and clean—Jinu’s precision.

Another curved like a smile—Romance’s charm.

The third felt solid, steady, grounded—Mistery’s quiet strength.

The fourth pulsed faintly, unpredictable, like Baby’s laughter when he tried to hide it.

And the fifth—deep, unwavering—felt like Abby. Constant. Watchful.

Together they formed a ring, something binding. Something alive.

You pulled your hand back as if burned.

It wasn’t a dream. And that terrified you more than anything.

You’d been avoiding them for days—snapping, hiding, pretending the distance was your choice. Because they seemed fine without you. Because they didn’t need you. Because if they ever had to choose, it wouldn’t be you.

You sat on the edge of the bed, tracing the marks again, your breath uneven. For a moment, you almost wished they’d hurt more. Pain would have been easier than whatever this was.

When you finally glanced at the clock, it was a little past nine. Only three hours since you’d fallen asleep. You already knew there would be no more rest tonight.

Your body ached to move—to feel something familiar, something real. You wanted the rhythm, the structure, the discipline of motion. You wanted to dance until the air stopped burning in your lungs.

You showered quickly, scrubbing the heat from your skin until it dulled. Then you dressed—soft gray sweatpants, a white tank top, and an old cropped hoodie you’d worn for years. You tied your hair back loosely, slipped on socks, and stared at your reflection one last time before stepping into the hallway.

The silence was unnerving.

The building always hummed with life, but now it was still—so still it made the back of your neck prickle. You walked quietly, almost gliding across the floorboards, the faint hum of the elevator down the hall your only guide.

Until you heard it.

A sound—low, drawn out, caught between a sigh and a gasp. Then another, heavier, layered with something rougher. You stopped before you could stop yourself. The sound came from one of the rooms ahead, a door slightly ajar.

Mystery’s room.

You should have kept walking. You knew that. But curiosity, or something dangerously close to longing, rooted your feet to the spot.

You took one hesitant step closer.

The faint golden light from inside spilled through the narrow crack in the door, cutting across the floor. You could see movement—shadows shifting together, breath catching, skin against skin in the half-dark. You couldn’t see faces, only outlines, but you could feel the rhythm of their closeness, the heat that filled the air between them.

A low, guttural groan sliced through the silence, followed quickly by a sharp whimper.

Curiosity overriding caution, you peered through the narrow gap. The sight immediately sent a hot flush up your neck.

Mystery was straddling Baby —no, he was pounding into him. His back was slick with sweat, the muscles in his legs and arms taut as he drove his hips forward with brutal efficiency.

You could only hear the high-pitched cries and the low, possessive growls, punctuated by the rhythmic slapping of skin and the creak of the headboard.

He leaned down, his voice a gravelly murmur that you could barely catch.

"Don't try to hide that face, " he commanded, the Spanish word dripping with dark pleasure. “Are you thinking about her. Don’t you?”

Baby choked on a scream, burying his face in the pillow, tears mixing with sweat. "Myst, please! You’re too deep, a- ah!"

His thrusts didn't slow; they intensified, pushing Baby against the mattress. "Too deep? Good. You like it when they take you hard and leave a mark, don't you? Beg for them. Beg for the one you want to ruin you."

His voice broke in a frantic, desperate plea. "I want it! God, I want them both! Please! I can’t—I can’t!"

Mystery laughed, a rough, triumphant sound. "You're all mine right now. You'll take everything I give you, and you’ll remember who put you here."

Something in his words—hard, teasing, intimate—made you understand without needing to hear everything. There was no place for you in that room, but part of you ached to be there anyway.

A potent mix of shock and scalding desire hit you. Your breath hitched, your throat constricting. The explicit mention of the baby's fantasy—Begging for her—sent a dizzying, intense yearning pulsing between your legs. An insane, desperate craving seized you to be the one beneath him, to be the focus of that brutal, consuming attention. Or both of them. The sheer power of the scene was overwhelming.

Your breath stilled.

You pulled back quickly, your pulse thundering in your ears, the marks on your arm burning again as if in answer. You didn’t look again.

You just walked.

Faster this time. Past the door, past the silence, into the elevator where the mirrored walls caught the flush on your cheeks.

You stared at your reflection and saw it all—the wanting, the shame, the confusion, the way your chest rose too fast.

When the doors opened again, the air below felt different—cooler, steadier. The practice rooms stretched out before you, empty and waiting.

You stepped inside, dropped your bag by the wall, and stood in the center of the room. But you couldn’t stop hearing them.

Baby’s breathless sounds, Mystery’s low, commanding growls—each one replayed in your mind like an echo that refused to fade.

And the words. I want her.

They haunted you more than the sounds themselves.

Your heart, reckless as ever, begged to believe that her meant you.

But your mind shut the thought down before it could take form. There was no way. Not you.

You shoved those thoughts deep into the corners of your mind, shaking your head as if you could physically push them out. You weren’t going to fall into that spiral again—not today.

The practice floor in front of you felt like salvation. Bright lights glared softly against the polished wood; the mirrored wall reflected an image you barely recognized. Yet somehow, standing there, surrounded by silence and space, you felt more at home than you had in months.

You exhaled slowly, letting the breath leave your body like a quiet surrender.

Then you moved.

You slipped off your shoes and sat on the cold floor, lacing up a pair of worn, pale ballet slippers—scuffed, frayed at the edges, but still familiar. You wore black cycling shorts and a loose grey long sleeve shirt tied at your waist; simple, practical, nothing that demanded attention. Just something that allowed you to move.

Your phone connected to the sound system with a soft chime, and the room filled with the first few notes of a song you didn’t even remember adding to your playlist.

And then—it all vanished.

The memory of Mystery’s voice, the marks on your arm, the ache in your chest—gone.

There was only rhythm. Breath. Motion.

Your body remembered before your mind did.

Your arms extended, feet pointed, spine curved with the precision of muscle memory older than your fear. You turned once, twice, your reflection spinning into a blur of movement and light.

It was instinct. The choreography flowed from somewhere buried deep inside you, something untouched by time. You didn’t have to think; your body knew.

The music swelled and you followed it, every motion threaded with the grace and restraint you’d once been praised—and punished—for.

When you were younger, dance had been your entire world. Ballet had given you purpose, control, perfection—but also hunger, exhaustion, and loneliness. You remembered the diets, the whispered critiques, the hours staring at your reflection, picking apart what was wrong instead of what was beautiful.

But on stage, none of it mattered.

The world disappeared under the lights. And for a moment—just like now—you forgot that life could hurt.

You kept moving until your breath came in ragged bursts, your skin glistening with sweat, your heart beating in rhythm with the fading music.

When the final note broke, so did you.

You stopped mid-spin, one hand hovering near your chest, your eyes closed. Silence wrapped around you like fog.

And then—applause.

Soft, slow, deliberate.

Your eyes flew open.

Someone was standing at the door.

Jinu.

His expression stole the air right out of your lungs. His usual calm was there, yes—but now it was threaded with something warmer, deeper. His eyes followed you as though he were trying to memorize every part of you, as though he couldn’t believe what he’d just seen.

For a long, fragile second, neither of you spoke.

You blinked, stepping back slightly, instinctively looking down. You couldn’t stand that look in his eyes—not when you didn’t deserve it. Not after yelling at him less than a day ago.

You swallowed hard. You deserved anger, not tenderness. Disdain, not awe.

But he only smiled. A soft, breathtaking smile that pulled at the corners of his lips like sunlight breaking through storm clouds.

“That,” he said quietly, his voice low and reverent, “was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

You froze.

He took a hesitant step forward, rubbing the back of his neck, his smile turning shy.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude. I—I couldn’t find you for breakfast . I heard the music and... I shouldn’t have watched. It just—” He paused, meeting your eyes. “It was impossible not to.”

You shook your head quickly. “It’s nothing. Really. I’m just... rusty.”

He laughed softly under his breath. “If that’s rusty, then I’d hate to see what you look like in full form. You’re—” He stopped himself, exhaling. “You’re incredible, Y/N.”

You felt your chest tighten, the words too much, too kind. “You don’t have to say that.”

“I’m not saying it because I have to,” he replied, a flicker of seriousness in his tone. “It’s the truth. It’s the best thing I’ve seen in years. And trust me, when you’ve lived more than three hundred of them, that means something.”

You let out a weak, disbelieving laugh. “You don’t have to lie, Jinu.”

His smile faded, replaced by something deeper—steady, unwavering.

“I’ve never lied to you,” he said simply.

The silence that followed was heavy, fragile.

He took a slow step closer. Then another.

Your breath caught.

“I owe you an apology,” he said softly. “For yesterday. For pushing too hard.”

You shook your head, cutting him off. “No. I owe you one. I shouldn’t have yelled. I shouldn’t have said those things. I know you’re interested in Huntrix—how could you guys not be? The girls are... they are everything I’m not.”

You forced a weak smile, but your throat felt tight, your words trembling as they left you. “You all deserve someone like them, attractive, famous, stars like you guys are. I get it. I’m no one, I shouldn’t—”

“Stop,” Jinu murmured.

But you couldn’t.

“I mean it, Jinu. I shouldn’t have gotten involved. You should hate me for how I’ve acted, and honestly—”

“Y/N.” His voice rose, just enough to make you stop.

You blinked at him.

He took one more step until he was standing right in front of you, so close you could feel the warmth radiating off him. His voice dropped again, lower this time, steady and sure.

“It’s not them.”

You frowned. “What?”

“It’s not they that we want.” He hesitated, then said it again, firmer. “It’s you.”

Your breath hitched. “No—”

“Yes,” he interrupted, his eyes searching yours with an intensity that made your knees weak. “It’s you we can’t stop thinking about. You we’d burn the world for.”

You shook your head, your voice trembling. “Don’t say that. You don’t mean it. You just—pity me, and I’m not—”

You didn’t finish.

Because Jinu closed the space between you and kissed you.

It wasn’t careful. It wasn’t rehearsed.

It was real—raw, sudden, electric.

His hand found your cheek, thumb brushing your skin with a tenderness that broke something open inside you. The warmth of his mouth against yours made everything else blur—the room, the silence, even your fear.

You gripped his shirt in your fists, clinging to him like you might fall apart otherwise.

The kiss deepened, not rushed, but full—like a confession he’d been holding in for lifetimes.

The faint sound of your breath mingled with his, and when you finally pulled back, barely an inch apart, you realized your heart was still racing in time with his.

And for the first time in a very long time, you didn’t feel like running.

Yesterday, when you arrived…” Jinu’s voice comes out low, almost trembling, like he’s afraid that saying it too loud might shatter something fragile between you. His thumb brushes against your cheek as if he’s trying to memorize the shape of your skin. “I swear, Y/N, I… I froze. Seeing you like that—your eyes, your face—I didn’t even know what to do. We were terrified. Not because of what happened, but because we knew…” His voice breaks softly, and his jaw tightens. “Because we knew we were the reason behind your pain.”

Your breath catches. His eyes are filled with that same kind of regret that twists your chest until it’s hard to breathe. Jinu swallows, his words trembling but certain. “You’ve always said you see us. That somehow, even when the rest of the world can’t, you do. I can’t forgive myself, not if I ever make you doubt that again. Not if I ever make you cry again because of me.”

You laugh then—weakly, brokenly, tears still tracing your cheeks. The sound surprises both of you; it’s too small, too fragile, but it feels real. “You sound like you’re about to write me a ballad,” you mumble between sobs, trying to smile, trying to believe him. “Next thing I know, you’ll be apologizing with a song and flowers.”

Jinu’s expression softens, almost in pain—but then he leans forward and kisses you again. It’s slower this time. Less desperate, more human. His lips taste faintly of salt and something warm, something like surrender.

When he pulls back, he stays close enough that his breath mixes with yours. “Oh, baby,” he whispers, so tenderly it almost hurts. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that. How many nights I’ve thought about what it would feel like… to finally tell you.”

You blink at him, dazed. “Tell me what?”

“That we’ve been idiots,” he says, a short, bitter laugh escaping him. “All of us. Idiots for not telling you sooner. Idiots for letting you think any of this—any of us—was just a game. You didn’t imagine it, YN. You never did.” His hand moves up, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Since the moment I found you that night—when you fought off that man in the street—something inside me just… stopped. I looked at you, bruised and still standing, and my heart decided that was it. You were it.”

The room goes still, air heavy with the sound of your breathing. His confession feels too beautiful, too raw to exist in the same world as the pain you’ve been carrying.

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” Jinu continues, voice shaking like he’s confessing a secret he’s held for too long. “Your voice. Your laugh. The way you make noise disappear when you walk into a room. It’s not quiet—it’s peace.” His eyes glimmer. “And that’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

You can’t stop crying now. The tears come harder, unstoppable, the way waves crash once they realize the shore won’t move away. He wipes them one by one with the pads of his thumbs, smiling faintly even as his own eyes water. “Come on,” he says softly. “Let me take you back to the apartment. The others are dying to talk to you—Abby, Baby, Mystery, Romance—they’ve been waiting all day.”

Your chest tightens again. You shake your head quickly. “No. No, Jinu, they must hate me. After yesterday—after what I said—how could they even want to see me? I was awful. I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve any of this.” Your words come out fast, trembling. “I’m the worst.”

“Hey.” His tone is a whisper, but it cuts through everything. He cups your face again, thumb tracing the edge of your lips to quiet you. “Don’t say that. Not even as a joke. You don’t get to decide what you deserve—we do. And we say you deserve the world.”

You want to argue, but his eyes won’t let you. They’re too sincere, too steady, holding you there until the trembling in your chest softens just a little.

He extends his hand, palm open, waiting. You stare at it for a long moment before finally taking it. His fingers close around yours with quiet certainty, grounding you.

The walk to the elevator feels both endless and too fast. You can still feel your pulse thrumming in your wrists, the ghost of his kiss lingering like a heartbeat that refuses to fade.

When the elevator doors slide shut, you finally let out the breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. The hum of the machinery fills the silence. Then—a flicker of light, a sudden lurch—and you feel your knees weaken.

“Jinu…” you whisper, dizzy. “I think I’m—”

Before you can finish, his hand is already there, steadying you, his other hand brushing down your arm. “Hey, look at me,” he murmurs, voice low and reassuring. “You’re okay. You’re safe. I’ve got you.” His thumb draws lazy circles against your skin, and you breathe again.

The elevator dings. The doors open.

Light spills into the hall.

And there they are—the other four.

Abby is sitting forward on the couch, worry written all over her face. Baby stands with his arms crossed, eyes red-rimmed. Mystery lingers in the corner, expression guarded but soft. And Romance—Romance looks like he hasn’t slept at all. The faint shadows beneath his eyes make him look almost fragile in the golden light.

The moment they see you, all four of them rise at once.

Your pulse races. Jinu squeezes your hand once before letting go, whispering quietly near your ear, “Just breathe. They’re here because they care. Let them show you.”

And as you take a trembling step into the room, every ounce of fear, confusion, and love inside you collides—turning the air electric, suspended on the edge of something new.

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Y/n smirked. 'That's because they aren't coming back.' She thought to herself. It was for the best. Their music and idol personas were nothing but a vessel for Gwi-Ma to steal souls of countless fans. No idols. No souls.

Y/n looked down from her screen to Beomseok. "Why do you like working out so much?" She asked. Beomseok paused a moment. "Keeps me strong." He says before continuing.

"Yeah, keeps most people strong." Y/n shrugs. "But you seem to really like it, and your muscles. I swear, there is more shirtless pictures of you online than not."

Beomseok chuckles. "Well, can't lie there. I do enjoy having them. But it's not a vanity thing."

"Then what is it? Just to be strong?" Y/n asks curiously. Bemonseok pauses again, but this time, Y/n could sense there was something on his mind. She got off his back and took a seat next to him. "Is it something you want to talk about?" She asked carefully, not wanting to force an answer out of him.

Beomseok gave a humorless laugh. "I haven't really talked about it to anyone before." He sat up straight, his gaze landing everywhere but Y/n. "I wasn't always strong. In fact, I was a pretty scrawny person before I became a demon. All skin and bones."

Y/n listened quietly, allowing him to continue when and if he was ready.

"My family was poor. We couldn't afford to eat, and because of that we were all feeble and weak. Me, being the oldest of my two brothers, and with a dying father, I stepped up to take charge and keep us fed somehow. I worked job after job, but with me being so weak, I couldn't keep up and therefor, never made much money."

"Eventually...my father died of his sickness. Leaving only me, my two little brothers, and our mother. It was only a matter of time before death took my mother or my little brothers. Or me, but I didn't care much about that. So long as I could keep them fed and healthy, I was happy. But I never could...and that's when I started hearing his voice..."

'You're too weak to save them...they'll all die one by one...and there is nothing you can do to stop it...But I can help you...'

"Gwi-Ma made me strong, every day, my muscles started to show until I was finally able to work multiple jobs without much rest. I was bringing food home to my family, medicine to treat their sickness." There was the smallest of smiles on Beomseok's face, at the memory of his family finally being healthy. But his smile quickly faded as he went on.

"Then our village was raided. I stayed behind to keep my family and the rest of the villagers safe. I managed to fight most of them off...and then...that's when it started. The smell of their blood, how it felt on my hands, on my face...it was...overwhelmingly addictive. The fight for survival had turned into a fight for the thrill of fighting." There was a look shame on his face as he continued.

"I didn't stop...not until they were dead, a bloody mess at my feet. My marks had appeared, my true form showing at last. My family saw me like that...and they swore that I was not their own. I wasn't. Not after that. I was no longer my mother's son. I was no longer the big brother my siblings looked up to. I was...a monster. A demon..."

His fists curled tightly, shaking. "I never saw them again...Next thing I knew, I was in the Underworld. And there Gwi-Ma was...my king. And I, his loyal slave..."

"I promised long before then, that I would use my new strength to protect those who couldn't protect themselves...but after that night...I completely lost myself and what I was fighting for."

Y/n carefully placed her hand onto Beomseok's hand, he looked to her with teary eyes. Y/n's thumb gently stroked over his palm as she spoke. "You wanted to do good. Gwi-Ma made you believe your strength would have helped more than harmed. I believe you would have been a great protector, I believe you still can be."

Beomseok tried to speak, but felt a warming sensation at his hand. He looked down to see his demon markings showing. He tried to pull back, but Y/n's hold remained firm. Her own markings were showing as well.

"This is the third time it's happened." Y/n tells him. "I don't think it's a bad thing." Beomseok looks to her after taking his eyes off his hand. "It's...warm." He murmured. "You're warm. You're so unlike Gwi-Ma...his fire harms, I feel as if my entire body is burning whenever I'm around him. But you...it's like coming in from a snowstorm, and sitting close to a fireplace."

Y/n smiled slightly. "I'm glad. At least we know I'm not harmful to you or the others. But my fire is just as deadly..."

Beomseok moved his free hand up to cup her cheek. "It doesn't have to be. Remember, Yeong-Cheol said if we can protect you and keep you away from Gwi-Ma, your powers will do good instead of evil."

Y/n leaned into his touch. "I hope so. I'm just...I'm so tired of running. I hate him and I'd rather die than be anything like him."

"You're nothing like him." Beomseok said firmly. "You've proven that time and time again. Don't worry, this whole mess will be behind you soon." He looked into her eyes as he spoke. "I promise. Me and the rest of the guys will make sure of it."

Later that night, Y/n was atop the roof of her apartment building. She sat with her legs crossed, breathing in and out deeply. She raised her hands and tried to summon a bit of fire in her palms. Her marks began to shine through, but nothing else came of her demonic powers.

She opened her eyes and looked down at her hands, trying desperately to summon up some fire. And still, nothing. Y/n sighed. "How am I suppose to get rid of Gwi-Ma if I can't use my powers?" She murmured.

"It's probably best you don't for now."

Y/n looked over her shoulder to see Jinu, he approached her, standing at her side. "It'll be easier for him to track and send more demons after you." He tells her. "Though, that last display of strength might have sacred some of them."

"I didn't like doing it." Y/n murmured. "But I have to, it's the only way I can get rid of him for good."

Jinu looked down at her. "You don't think the hunters can do it?" He asked. Y/n sighed. "It's not that I don't have faith in them, it's just...Gwi-Ma is far more powerful than they might realize. You know it to be true. His words alone...have the power to break even the strongest of minds. Even demon hunters..."

There had been many demon hunters who have lost their lives to demons, and many more, who have lost their lives to Gwi-Ma himself. By his power...or by their own hands...

"My only chance of stopping him is to work along side them. Though...other than Rumi, I doubt they would be willing to accept it." Y/n murmured. "I've never known a demon hunter who is also a demon...But, I've never known anything like myself either. So I guess anything is possible."

Jinu sat down next to her. "Even defeating Gwi-Ma." He concludes. "We'll figure something out. We have to. Because I for one am so tired of it all...he holds my memories over me like a constant reminder of how I ruined...everything."

Y/n looked to him. "He made you believe that."

"No." Jinu said firmly. "I made my choices all on my own. It's my fault I'm where I am today. The only real harm Gwi-Ma has done is reminded me of that."

"Jinu..." Y/n try to reach for his hand, but stopped once he flinched away.

"There's no changing the past, I know that." Said Jinu. "But that doesn't mean I can't help better the future for other lost souls like mine. And if it means saving a soul as bright as yours..." He looked to Y/n. "I swear, I'll help you defeat Gwi-Ma. Even if it costs my life."

Y/n smiled slightly. "It won't come down to that. I'll make sure of it."

"Oh, will you?"

Jinu and Y/n froze...they both heard it...Him...

Before any of them could make a move, Jinu was gone, forcibly drug to the Underworld. He could hear Y/n crying his name before everything went dark...

Jinu landed roughly, he groaned as he pulled himself up. He looked around, and of course, he was back where he started. Only, the others were here too. They all looked to each other, slight panic in their eyes.

"After everything I've done for you..."

The boys all turned their attention to the mass of pink and violet flames atop the large stairway.

"And you decide to betray me?"

None of them spoke...

"You...ungrateful, pitiful, worthless souls!"

As Gwi-Ma's anger spiked, so did the pain he unleashed onto each one of them. They all crumpled to the ground, writhing in agony.

"You've already made a grave mistake by not returning my daughter! To lie and go behind my back as you did!" Gwi-Ma yelled. "But to utterly betray me like this! It is unforgivable!"

Another wave of pain shot through them. It felt as if there were a wildfire bursting to life within the very deepest parts of their being. Their souls crying out in pure, horrible agony...

"Have you forgotten who you each were before me!?" Gwi-Ma growled, venom lacing his voice as he spoke, looking to each of them one by one.

"Useless!"

Baby, Jae, bit down hard on his lip, drawing blood. He would not allow Gwi-Ma to hear his cries. He's heard enough...centuries worth...

"Hideous!"

Romance, Seo-Jun, could not bare to look to any of them. He wanted to believe that Gwi-Ma was wrong, but his words cut him deep...

"Weak!"

Abby, Beomseok, growled trying to fight back against Gwi-Ma's hold. But, he wasn't strong enough...

"Beast!"

Mystery, Jeong, whimpered his head lowered in submission. He felt pitiful doing so...but it was only right he did. He was nothing but a worthless mutt...

"Selfish!"

Jinu felt tears brimming in his eyes, the memory of his sister and mother pleading for him not to leave them...it was too much...Too fresh in his mind...

"Do not forget...I gave you a second chance. I am the one made you better! You'd all be nothing, forgotten to time, without me!" Gwi-Ma hissed sharply. "I should have you alle erased right now...But I won't."

The pain finally started to die down, but never completely left, just enough for them to fully comprehend what Gwi-Ma was saying.

"You five are lucky, you have served me well over the last centuries. Otherwise I would not so much as give this a second thought. You have one last chance to redeem yourselves, and to save yourselves from nonexistence..."

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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 brought 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.

[Comments under the Interview YouTube Video]

@ gggitsez  Polaymory? In MY K-Pop group??? It’s more likely than you think.

@ justafordf-150  FIVE Boys?? I can’t even catch one 😩😩

@ bldvnbln I don’t know who I want to be more- her or one of the boys.

@ simplyshrimp1n You guys looking for a 7th?? I can make really good brownies I promise 🥺🥺

@ lezzzBh0nest Do you think she swings both ways?? Cause DAMN she’s too pretty for them

@ how_about_never Hey hey Y/N- I lost my number, can I have yours? ;)))) 

@ prettymuchthatguy  Catch me looping 21:40 - her laugh is adorable???

@ 33waystosaygoodbye Oh my gosh 19:43 ?? Her and Baby’s banter is so CUTE???

@ abbsssplez Abby when you’re ready for a girl who can commit to JUST YOU 😤😤😤 give me a call

@ pridebb-138   Okay but??? New album??? Hello??? 12:32 We’re just gonna GLOSS OVER THAT??? They’re CLEARLY talking about a new album????

@ anonynproud girl, Y/N, bestie - what mall do you shop at?? Where can I go that I can walk in looking for one thing and walk out with 5 hot boyfriends??? PLEASE

@ whatsthatguy Dude Y/N gets free BL every day- WHAT'S IT LIKE BEING GOD'S FAVORITE??

[Instagram]

(Reader posts the selfie that her and the boys took before the interview to her Instagram)

Caption: Figured I should share something to confirm that- yes you found my Instagram 😅😅 I don’t post on here THAT often, but you can have this cute selfie me and the boys took right before the interview <33 Our stylist did SUCH a great job with the outfits, I’m still obsessed  🤩🤩 

Edit: Holy crap 1M likes??? And 300k new followers??? You guys are wild. Thank you <33 Hope you enjoy the minimal content I occasionally add to your feed LOL 🫶🫶

↳ @ babysaja shared this post to his story “In case you wanted to admire our cute gf yourself ;)”

↳ @ romancesaja shared this post to his story “😍😍😍”

↳ @ mysterysaja shared this post to his story

↳ @ abbysaja shared this post to his story “We’re lookin’ fine af 💪💪”

↳ @ jinusaja shared this post to his story “Because I know some of you guys would appreciate this photo <3”

@ jinusbabymama - Jinu looks EDIBLE UGH

@ zebraprinted821 - share your stylist PLEASE i love this look?????

@ valval-ox14 - who else is here from Baby's story?? 🤚🤚🤚

@ sajasajasaja - 😍😍🤩 need more of these selfies YESTERDAY

@ sajapridemama - Mommy? Sorry- Mommy? Sorry- Mommy?

  》 @ proudfory/n - no HONESTLY she is such a lioness she needs her own lil Saja Figure

  》 @ lionessy/n - she's so pretty i CAN'T 

@ pretty-in-violet - now THAT'S a sandwich i want to be in the middle of 🥵🥵

@ thesajarabbithole - is it in Abby’s contract somewhere that he always has to have his chest showing? Or is it a personal choice? (Not complaining either way)

@ w0man1zer_x2 - if my hair could hold even HALF the shape that Romance’s seems to, i’d be elated 

@ queers4h1re - i need to have a polycule meeting with my squad, clearly we need to step up our wardrobe game because i dont think we’ve EVER looked this coordinated #goals 

@ immab4dbetch - WALK EM LIKE A DOG SIS!! 🗣🗣 WALK EM LIKE A DOG!!! 

@ huntrxd0ntquit - i swear I saw Y/N hanging out with Huntr/x the other day- IS SHE DATING THEM TOO?? IS ALL OF KPOP POLY??

  》 @ theansweris7 - lbsfr idol groups are sooo queer coded i mean come on?? U travel the world with a bunch of hot people and live with them?? Gay???? 

[Baby's Twitch Stream]

Baby grinned to himself as chat quickly began to fill up. He'd only been streaming for a little over a week now, but he was really enjoying it. He was glad Y/N had shown him Twitch, because it really was a fun way to game and connect with fans at the same time.

“Alright yes, yes, we're all excited to be here,” he said as chat kept flying by. “Yes, Mystery is here too.”

Mystery, as per usual, was tucked into their bean bag chair next to Baby's desk. They had a laptop open with the stream pulled up and a Steam deck with Valorant open in their lap. They held up a hand so the camera could see and waved to everyone.

“You need a cat cam but it's Mystery instead,” Baby read out of chat before laughing. “Maybe someday, but Min doesn't usually prefer to be on camera.” 

“Would you ever consider playing Fortnite?” He read again. “Eh, maybe if the Saja Boys were added into the game.” He points at the camera. “I see Huntr/x in there Fortnite, so where's our cameo huh??”

“But I do play other games sometimes,” he shrugged, “Valorant is just one of my favorites. Min plays more games than I do, actually. Recently he and Y/N started a Stardew Farm together.” He grinned. “We got Y/N one of the new Switch 2s. Doll thought it was too much but,” he waves a hand dismissively, “what's the point of having money if you can't buy things for your partners?”

He glanced at chat again as he waited for the next match to start up. “Do we all call her doll? No, I call her doll,” he said, pointing to himself. “Min calls her starlight. Jinu calls her angel,” he rolled his eyes dramatically. “Rome usually calls her darling and Abby calls her sweetheart.”

“What does she usually call us?” He thought for a moment. “She's said things like babe a few times, but usually she just calls us by some variation of our names.” He smirked as a thought came to mind. “Loudly if I'm doing it right.”

Baby continued to smirk, proud of himself, as chat exploded at the comment. 

Mystery shook their head. “She's gonna get you for that,” he said, just loud enough for chat to hear.

Baby waved a hand. “No she won't. She's probably not even watching-” his speech cuts off as light flooded the space behind him. His eyes widen as he turned to face the light, laughing nervously. “Wait, wait, doll, listen-”

A pillow smacks Baby in the head as he keeps laughing, bringing an arm up to defend himself. Y/N stepped into frame for the camera, just off to the side and partially turned away to face Baby.

She reached out and grabbed his headset by one of the cat ears, pulling him closer to her. “On stream Yujin??” She hissed at him.

Baby curled in on himself, bringing one leg up to further shield his body. He kept laughing, while also trying to plead with her. “Doll, I’m sorry, I can't help it that you're so hot- OW! Hey!”

Y/N grabbed the pillow and thumped him upside the head again. “A menace Baby. And here I was going to bring you some of the cookies Rome and I made-”

“No, no, Y/N,” Baby whined.

“Hey don't punish me for him being dumb,” Mystery added softly.

Y/N looked off screen fondly at the lavender haired boy. “Don't worry Min, I'll still bring one for you.” She whipped her head back to glare at Baby, pointing at him. “Thin ice, Yujin.” She said before walking away, closing the door behind her.

Baby turned to watch her walk away, his smirk slowly creeping back onto his face. He shook his head as he turned back towards his mic. “God she's hot when she gets riled up.”

Baby yelped, jumping in his chair suddenly and glaring down at Mystery, who had smacked him on the leg.

“I'm not following you this time if you get kicked out of bed tonight,” Mystery said.

Baby stared down at them, lips parted in shock. “But Min,” he whined.

“No.”

[TikTok]

A video from TikTok user @ imsajaandimproud. It’s a slide show with cute edits of Y/N with the song Spotlight playing in the background. The pictures are blank minus the last one that says, “Has anyone else been being like bombed by an account called @ notsobabysaja?”

The caption of the video says, “i know you’re watching this right now notsobabysaja.”

(Comments on the TikTok)

@ trackr3cord no fr they're so obsessed with all the Y/N edits, i swear i see their username in every comment section on my fyp

@ sajaboylov3r i swear they liked my most recent edit within seconds of me posting it. Obsessed much??

@ sajaboyscollective Honestly they should change their username to something to do with y/n cause clearly their bias shifted 🤣🤣 not that i blame them

  》 @ babysbabygirl  No FR like let someone else have that username who deserves it 😤

  》 @ sajaboyscollective Ok no chill its not that deep

@ y/nspride Theyre trying to take my “Y/Ns biggest SIMP” award away from me and i wont stand for it 😤😤

  》 @ notsobabysaja  Sorry Y/N personally handed me that award so its already mine 

  》 @ y/nspride  HELLO??? 🫵🫵🫵🫵

(@ notsobabysaja's profile on TikTok)

Bio: #1 Y/N SIMP

Following: 125 Followers: 5.2k Likes: 80k

Scrolling through their videos, they're all stitches of Y/N edits with reaction memes next to them. The memes all consist of fangirling and fainting, or wolf whistling.

Their most recent video is from 1 hour ago. Unlike the other videos on their page, this one they made themselves. It's a slideshow of pictures of Y/N.

Picture 1: Y/N is seen curled up in the corner of a couch. Golden light pours over her figure as she stares fondly at the camera, putting up a small peace sign.

Picture 2: A side profile picture of Y/N. She is grinning at someone unpictured, off screen. There are buildings behind her as this appears to be taken somewhere downtown.

Picture 3: Y/N is seen tucked under the arm of another person, who's cropped just out of frame. She is leaning into their side and sticking her tongue out at the person taking the picture. She has on an oversized coat that clearly belongs to someone else.

Picture 4: Y/N and Mystery are cuddled up together under one blanket. Both of them have their Nintendo Switch's in their hands. Y/N has her head rested on Mystery's shoulder, and they have their head rested on top of hers. 

Picture 5: Y/N is sitting at a cafe table, checking her phone. On the table in front of her sits a drink and a pastry. The lighting is soft and the sky is lightly overcast, the sun clearly still rising. She looks content.

The caption of the video says, “prettiest member of the Saja Boys and she doesn't even know it 🙄🥴”

(Comments on the TikTok)

@ sajaboyscollective Wait wait wait these pictures literally arent online anywhere else???? HELLO IS THIS ONE OF THE SAJA BOYS??

@ y/nsfavoritepride SIR?? WHATS YOUR SOURCE I NEED 50 MORE OF THESE PHOTOS NOW?!!

@ follow4pride Guys guys… what if this is Baby's alt??

  》 @ notsobabysaja (Creator) It literally says *not* so baby saja so obviously not 🙄

  》 @ follow4pride HELLO??? 

@ g1rlpowerplease I'm gonna combust she's SO PRETTYY UGH

@ noticemey/n Guess who has a new lockscreen picture now?? 🤗🤗

@ dreamsrlost Mommy?? Sorry- Mommy? Sorry- Mommy?

  》 @ notsobabysaja (Creator) Unoriginal + L + not your mommy 

  》 @ dreamsrlost Not *yet* 😏😏

  》 @ notsobabysaja (Creator) Well GET IN LINE THEN YOU GOT A LOT OF MEAT TO GET THROUGH TO GET TO HER

  》 @ thankyouy/n This crash out feels a little too personal 🤔🧐🧐

@ friends2lov3rs Come on OP share your source, dont be shy

  》 @ notsobabysaja (Creator) ~no~ 🤗🤗🖕

  》 @ friends2lov3rs Rude???? 

@ abbsgirlfr Achtualley 🤓☝️ Abby is the prettiest Saja Boy

  》 @ notsobabysaja (Creator) Wrong. Source: me

@ bitemejinu Im no better than a man 😔😔 i see a pretty woman and i must bark 

3 hours after the video was posted, it has skyrocketed to 1.3 million likes. 

(@ notsobabysaja's profile on TikTok)

Bio: #1 Y/N SIMP + L + ratio + crash out

Following: 125 Followers: 182.5k Likes: 1.6m

TAGLIST:

Y/n looked to him, but she was unable to respond. She feared that if she started speaking, her emotions would get the better of her, and all that would come out would be desperate and pitiful sobs.

"The old demon was right." Abby added. "You've worked your ass off trying to save our souls. Least we can do is return the favor, and protect yours."

Y/n finally spoke, she tried to keep her voice steady, but was unable to hide the tremor that laced every word. "He'll kill all of you...if you betray him." She says. "Then...then this all really will be for nothing. Don't waste your souls for a pointless endeavor."

"Who says it's pointless?" Asked Romance. He approached Y/n, taking her shaking hands into his. "You might not think so, but what you've done for us has yield some pretty positive results. If we felt like this was a waste of time, we would have already had you back in the Underworld a while ago." He continues.

"I've never known anyone to look at me the way you do. Not with hatred, or disgust, or fear. But with sympathy. Not even pity. You actually tried to understand why I became this way...And even after learning, you...you still looked at like I was worth looking at. And not some selfish monster. You even gave me a name. A real human name. For that, I'll be forever grateful."

Baby spoke next. "Pretty boy's right. What you heard from me, and still wanting to try and help...at first, I thought you were stupid. Someone like me isn't worth the trouble. But you're the only one who's ever made me feel human, whether you know you're doing it or not. I...I don't want to loose that. Someone like you, doesn't deserve to share the same fate were were given."

"Your soul is one of a kind. It'd be a shame for Gwi-Ma to ruin it, like he's ruined everything else." Said Jinu. "You didn't give up on us. We're not gonna give up on you."

"Pretty soon this whole mess will be behind us. So stop the frowning already." Abby says, his hand ruffling Y/'s head. "You have a pretty smile, so lets see it!"

Y/n almost couldn't believe it. In the little time she's spent trying to help these five demons, they've already made great progress. And now, they even wanted to help her in return. She hasn't even done that much, and yet...

"You all..." A small smile graced Y/n's face. "Your souls are warm."

The five boys glanced at each other, confused. Y/n continued, better explaining what she meant. "Before, when I first saw you, your souls were...cloudy. I could sense the malice and the evil within them, but still, I was unsure. I couldn't say that was all there was to you. And now..."

"Your souls look a little more clear. The warmth of them...it's like a flickering candle light. It doesn't seem like much, but...it's the warmest your souls have ever been. If I had any part in making it so then..." Y/n's smile grew, more genuine and true. "Then I'm happy. And I'm proud of your progress so far."

There it was again. They all felt it at once now. The way she made them feel. The warmth her words alone brought to their cold hearts. She could do so much with so little, it was amazing. And yet, terrifying.

If her soul was steered in the wrong direction, could that feeling be warped? Would it feel the same as when Gwi-Ma's voice clawed it's way into their minds?

That question alone was more than enough reason to try and save her. If there was any hope left for them, for anyone who was tricked by Gwi-Ma...then she must be protected at all cost.

"Do you think we could ever be human again?" Baby asked, his voice quiet and uncertain.

Y/n shook her head. "No. There is no undoing what's been done." She looks to him. "All you can do now, is find a way to snuff out the voices that tell you that you're nothing more than what you are. Demon or not...you have the potential to be something greater. To become better."

Her attention was on all of them now. "But if it helps, if it will make you feel more human...How about you guys finally have some real names?"

It's been years the last time he was here. To this dark and empty...hell. That's what it was. Hell. A place for only the wickedest and twisted souls to linger, to fester, to rot...

Life here, if one could even call it life, was nothing but an everlasting purgatory. Demons would starve, as no human souls could reach them, until they faded away like the dust in the wind.

Their king, was close to becoming nothing more than that dust. Dying slow, starving, and growing weaker by the day.

Yeong-Cheol sought to make sure it happens. That Gwi-Ma's fire would someday finally go out, never to light again.

There was only one reason Yeong-Cheol was here now. It was not because he was summoned. It was not even to hatch a plan to further Y/n's progress. He was simply here for one thing, and one thing only.

To free the soul, of the woman he loved...

Years ago, she died. And her soul, instead of entering eternal peace, was condemned to this horrible place. She had broken a code she she swore to live by, all in the name of love. And that alone was enough to send her here.

For so long, Yeong-Cheol had fought tirelessly to free her. To ensure she gets the afterlife she deserved. And every time, he was met with failure.

But with Gwi-Ma weakening, his chances of freeing her were steadily growing more promising.

Yeong-Cheol approached a shrine, hidden far from the swells of demons. He stopped just as he made it to the entrance, knowing he could go no further without triggering the seal that kept him out.

But he could see her. The soul of his beloved. Pure, glowing, warm. Untouched by demons...

Yeong-Cheol made it so, the moment she died. He ensured that no demon would be able to take her soul. But of course, that meant him as well.

He had no intentions on keeping it, she needed to finally be at rest. Even if it hurt him to let her go...

"Soon, my love. Soon you will be free of this place." Yeong-Cheol murmured quietly. "Y/n is the key to it all. To Gwi-Ma's defeat, and for your freedom. I promise you...you will never know suffering again..."

The silence after was broken by the faintest of whispers, too quiet for human ears. Yeong-Cheol smiled weakly. "Yes...she's fine. Sadly she's in a bit of a messy situation. But soon her pain will end as well." He raised his hand, the barrier fizzled to life, and like a stone wall, kept him from pushing further.

"If only you were here instead of me..." Yeong-Cheol whispers. "You would have known what to do. Rumi needed you far more than she needed me..."

Whispers, so quiet, so faint...

"I know...she needed us both...I promise I'll protect her, my love."

"How about...Beomseok?" Y/n asks Abby. She had been thinking of names for the boys for the last ten minutes. They weren't particular, but Y/n was, even if it was names for them. She wanted to make them count, given their real names were forgotten to them.

Abby thought it over. "Beomseok...Beomseok." He tried his new name out. Then he smiled. "I like it!" He beams. Y/n smiles as well. "So let's go over it again." She starts before looking to each memeber.

"Jae." Y/n looks to Baby, who gave a nod of approval.

"Jeong." She looks to Mystery, who grinned at hearing his new name.

"Seo-Jun." Romance tips his head, sending a wink her way.

"And Beomsok." She finishes with Abby.

"And of course, Jinu. But everyone knows him." Y/n said with a smalle laugh. Jinu nods. "It's the only thing I don't mind remembering."

Y/n recalled that night in her head a few days after, smiling fondly at the memory. One step closer to making the boys feel more human. Her smile faded slightly as she then remembers the situation she's currently in.

Being stalked isn't something Y/n would imagine ever happening to her, much less, being stalked by a demon. But, here she was...

And yet, she wasn't tense. Because thankfully, the demon stalking her was someone she knew.

Y/n looked over her shoulder, she couldn't see him right away, she felt him first. But he was there...Just out of sight...In the shadows...

Mystery, or now, Jeong.

He wasn't the only one Y/n could accuse of this creepy behavior. The other boys had been doing something similar. Anytime Y/n went out, one or all of them would follow.

She wasn't upset with them, she knew they were only doing it to keep her safe. But still, she couldn't help but feel just a slight bit uneased by it.

Y/n stops in her tracks and sighs, the turns in the direction of where Yeong was. After a moment of staring his way, he finally walked over. To keep himself from drawing attention, he wore a disguise. A face mask and a large hoodie with the hood pulled over his head.

"You know if you're gonna follow me, you might as well keep me company." Y/n tells him. Yeong simply nods and follows close at her side as she walks again. Y/n glances up at him as they both walk.

"So...you do have a pair of eyes under all that hair, right?" She asks, curiously. Yeong nods.

"Use your words, I know you can speak."

"I do." Yeong murmurs. "But...they are unnatural. Hard to look at..." He tells her.

"Most demon eyes are." Y/n raises an eyebrow, not fully understanding his point. Yeong shakes his head. "Too much. Too...distracting, even with my human illusion."

"Distracting how?" Asked Y/n. Yeong pauses a moment before he answers. "Many find them...alluring. But, it's not good. It's the bad kind. Romance is jealous of them."

"Is that just another way of saying you have pretty eyes?" Y/n teasingly nudges his arm. Behind his facemask, the smallest of smiles grew on his face. "Somewhat. But, my demon form has warped them. It's...hypnotizing almost. My demon form has warped many things about myself."

Y/n hesitates, but carefully brings it up as she asks. "Like how?"

"I was never human to begin with." Yeong tells her.

Y/n looked to him again, wide eyed. "You weren't?"

"I was born a demon." Yeong explains. "But not the type I am now. I was born as an demonic animal. A beastly dog, who feasted on human souls. But...not always." He continued. "I was good once, well, I was after I met him. A little boy who found me injured and alone near the woods of his village. He took care of me whenever he'd sneak away, tending to my wounds and feeding me."

"I can't remember his name, I barely remember what he looks like. But I do remember...we we're friends. Good friends. But..." Yeong's voice dipped into one of sadness. "One night, the little boy's parents saw me with him, and thought I was trying to take harm him. They dragged him away from me, even when he pleaded form them to let him go..."

"I followed, worried for the little boy. When I arrived at the village, I was met with arrows and spears. I could have turned back...I should have. The boy...he tried to save me. But he was stuck by an arrow, trying to protect me, and he...died."

Y/n's heart ached at the sound of his voice, and how it weakened and cracked as he tried to explain further.

"I ran away after the pain of the arrows became too much...and that's when I started to hear his voice..."

Gwi-Ma. Of course. When he was at his lowest, of course that's when Gwi-Ma would make himself known...

"He kept telling me that I failed to protect him...that I just let him die. But that I could take revenge on the ones who took my friend away...I grew legs, arms, a body. I was strong, I was fast, and...I killed every single one of them..."

Yeong had stopped walking, his gaze casted downward shamefully at his trembling hands, as if he could still feel their blood on his palms. "I took the boy's body, and buried him at the same spot he found me. And I was never the same again..."

Y/n took his hand with hers, Yeong felt a feeling of comfort wash over him. Before they knew it, their marks began to show, so they quickly separate.

Again, it happened again. First with Baby, or Jae, now with Yeong...

"You did what you thought was right in the moment. They killed your friend, even if it was an accident, and you thought you were doing him right by taking revenge." Y/n tells Yeong. "Gwi-Ma made you think it was right. Instead of letting you grieve his death, he poisoned your mind and made you think you allowed him to die. But that's not true. It was an accident, a terrible accident that was out of your control."

Yeong looked as if he wanted to say something, but kept quiet. Y/n took his hand again, thankfully their marks didn't show, and she lead him as they walked again. "How about I treat you to some coffee at this cafe I go to? They make the best lates."

Mystery...Yeong, nods a small smile forming behind his facemask. "I'd like that. Thank you, Y/n..."

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you spoke about your favorite drivers, his idols, and heroes. he talked about his last race, which he was still buzzing with excitement from.

it was something so surreal, seeing the hundreds of trophies and other awards they'd won over the years. he'd laughed at your shocked face, patting your shoulders when tears welled up in your eyes, feeling overwhelmed. as you took in all the history in front of you, he confided in you about the pressure he felt as they headed off to monza, which you completely understood. you reminded him of those that came before him, and everything he'd already accomplished for the team.

"but look at everything you've done already! pole positions, podiums, wins. not many drivers can say they've done all that in their first season with a new team. and those who've done it have become legends. no matter what happens in monza, you will be a ferrari legend. i've got a good feeling, though. mark my words, charles leclerc wins in spa, wins in monza." you said, watching as his face changed from disturbance to pride.

"have you ever thought about being a motivation coach?" he asked, making you laugh.

you exchanged numbers that day, promising you'd stop by the garage over the weekend to wish him good luck. as it turned out, he won the race in monza, his second win in a row. after all the champagne and interviews and celebrations, he made his way back to the garage, where you sat waiting for him. the team was going out to celebrate and had invited you.

"i don't want to say i told you, but..." you said, raising one eyebrow. he chuckled, nodding his head. "i told you."

"you did. i'm going to the hospitality, come with me?" he asked, you nodded and walked next to him. he was holding his huge trophy in his hand.

"that was an incredible race, you deserved this win. how are you feeling?"

"it doesn't feel real. two wins in a row i-" he didn't finish his sentence, but you nodded your head, understanding the feeling.

as your attendance to the paddock became more of a usual thing you saw each other more and more often as time passed, which meant it was only a matter of time before you became close friends. you stayed up talking with him at ungodly hours of the early mornings, he flew to you once when you were feeling incredibly nervous about an audition for an academy award-worthy role and waited with you until you eventually got the call.

in return, luckily, you were able to be there when he scored his next two podiums, and he couldn't help but look for you in the crowd, locking eyes with you and pointing to his chest. therefore, claiming you as his good luck charm.

the feelings came in the blink of an eye. he became the only thing in your head, making you mess up lines, stay up way past your ideal bedtime. he couldn't seem to focus during his practice sessions, too lost in his thoughts. thinking about when you would follow the f1 circus next.

it had been almost two months without your cheerful presence in the paddock when you finally made your awaited return at the very last race of the season in abu dhabi.

you ran into each other at the hotel, and you couldn't help but run to his arms, holding him so impossibly close and saying how much you'd missed him. he grasped your waist and repeated your words back to you. that night you confessed your feelings for him, and you watched as his chest filled with happiness, telling you he felt the same as well. when he stepped onto the top spot on the podium that sunday, you felt a different kind of pride and excitement as you saw him lifting his trophy up. that was the night that you became an official secret.

when lockdown happened, you couldn't see each other for a few months, but miraculously, you'd managed to squeeze in a few days to travel to monaco and see him.

you waited for the elevator doors to open, it was nearing midnight and you hoped no one was there.

the hotel lobby was empty except for one person. not even the nice lady at the front desk was there. sitting on one of the perfectly chosen sofas, with his back towards you, there he was.

the ding of the elevator doors opening was enough to catch his attention. he turned, covering his head with the hood of the sweater he wore. he met you halfway, his arms immediately wrapping around you, yours on his back. you hid your face in his neck, inhaling his scent.

"tu m'as tellement manqué, mon amour," charles whispered, kissing your head. you lifted your face, a lazy smile on your lips.

"i missed you, too, champ." you kissed his chin. feeling your insides warming as his green orbs scanned your face. your recent change of hairstyle caught his attention.

"you've cut it," he said, running his fingers through your strands. you walked back to the elevator, nodding.

"it's for a role. apparently, miss poppy nightingale is really going through it," you said, pressing the button for the top floor. as soon as the doors were closed, he pushed you against the mirrored wall and grabbed your face, clashing your lips with his.

it had been too long since you'd felt his hands roaming your body, caressing spots only he knew, handling you the way only he could.

since then it became a game of midnight reunions at empty hotel lobbies, taking long flights just to see the other for a few hours. fake names at hotel check-ins, lame excuses to friends for skipping get-togethers and hidden jealousy whenever someone placed their eyes on either of you.

for the past two years in every single interview there was always the same question.

"are you and charles leclerc dating?"

you'd smile, laugh, shake your head and deny something other than a really nice friendship between you and the monegasque.

neither of you could prevent paparazzi from taking pictures of you whenever you hung out together, the question always lingered in the air, but you always managed to dodge it and change the subject to something else.

meanwhile, in the darkness of your room, your secret came to life. your relationship became something carnal, full of desire and love and longing.

it was nearing the beginning of pre-race testing for the upcoming 2021 season.

you sat on the comfortable cushions of the cockpit in charles' yacht with your legs up. the hardtop protecting you from the warm monaco sun. you scrolled aimlessly on your phone, double-tapping when you saw pictures or videos that made you smile. a clip of charles caught your attention. it was from one of his streams during winter break.

he was talking about some things he'd bought online, clothes, gaming stuff, and other random things that caught his attention. he forgot that in that order there was also a few articles of clothing you had bought, including a bright pink bralette that he tried his best to hide, but it was too late. he'd played along as if someone had messed up and added the item by mistake. the caption of the video said something along the lines of 'charles leclerc has a secret girlfriend.'

you smirked, that much was true.

you locked your phone, tossing it to one side as you heard charles' footsteps nearing.

"here you go, ma belle," he said handing you a refreshing glass of ice-cold lemonade, you smiled at the french pet name. after all this time, his mother tongue still affected you.

"thank you, beau," you said as he lifted your legs for an instant as he sat next to you, only to place them back down on his lap. his hand stayed on your thigh.

"i was on the phone with the team, i'm leaving for bahrain next week." he said, you nodded. thinking about the last few days you had with him. "i want you to come with me,"

"i'm always there," you said. which was true. no one in the scarlet team knew of your secret relationship with their driver, yet they still invited you to attend to as many events as you like.

"i mean, i want to walk to the paddock with you. i want to hold your hand and show everyone you're mine,"

you were not, at all, ashamed of your relationship with the green-eyed boy in front of you. in fact, he was one of the most important people in your life, and you only kept it a secret so the stupid tabloids could focus on your achievements as individuals, instead of '(y/n) (y/l/n)'s boyfriend or charles leclerc's girlfriend'.

you nodded, feeling your cheeks getting hot, not from the sun. but from how you felt inside.

"okay, let's do it." you barely finished speaking when his lips met yours in a fight for dominance. you let him have his way with you, knowing a reward was coming your way.

a few days later, as you waited for the private jet to take off, you scrolled through instagram, the same video from the other day popped up on your feed again.

you decided to comment under that video, sending the emoji of the two eyes. immediately, your phone was being flooded with tags and mentions.

@ user1: omg she knows @ user2: (y/n) tell us who it is! @ user 3: @ yourusername are you and charles dating?

you let the internet go up in flames, locking your phone and paying attention to the brunette in front of you.

"are you ready?" charles asked, gripping your hand. you sat in his ferrari, waiting to walk into the paddock. you'd done that walk countless times, but this time would be different.

"as i'll ever be. i love you," you brought his hand to your lips, kissing his knuckles.

"je t'aime aussi," he said. you nodded, and he let go of your hand, stepping out of the car and walking to the passenger side where you sat. nerves and excitement swimming in your body. he opened your door and helped you out. his hand found yours instantly, like two magnets pulled together by an invisible force.

it was no surprise that you were walking the paddock, you were basically another member of the team. but heads turned as you walked with the beautiful monegasque beside you. you kept your head up, smiling when people said 'hi' to you two.

you were used to the cameras flashing and your name being called by hundreds of people at a time, and so was charles.

but this time was different, this time it was both your names being called, together. one after the other. his arm circled your back, the design of your dress was backless, his fingers curling around your waist as his thumb pressed into the skin of your back.

it was a beautiful evening in february, your high heels were pressing against the red carpet below you. you'd refused to do any interviews before the ceremony, therefore, you were of the last few people to walk the carpet of the 2022 academy awards. you were nominated for best leading actress, your best nomination to date. you made your way inside the theater, where the greatest of the film industry sat, waiting for the biggest night in film to start.

charles sat next to you, his hand never left yours as the night ticked by and awards were presented. nearing the end, anthony hopkins, the winner for last year's best actor award, walked onstage and your heart begun beating faster. this was it.

they called the names for all your fellow nominees, you clapped for each one of them, and charles applauded even louder when finally, your name and a small clip of your movie were named.

your hand flew to charles' again, as the envelope was opened and the actor onstage read the winner. he smiled, looking straight ahead.

"the oscar goes to... (y/n) (y/l/n),"

time stopped. people around you rose to their feet as you remained seated, you closed your eyes, taking a deep breath and opening them in the span of two seconds. charles grabbed both your hands and pulled you to your feet, he pressed you close to his body.

"you did it, ma belle. you did it!" he whispered before letting you go. you were beaming with excitement, you grabbed his face and kissed him quickly as someone ushered you onstage. charles held his arm to you as you walked the few steps to where the golden statue waited for you.

you hugged the legendary actor as he handed you your very first academy award. you looked ahead of you at the sea of people, the blinding lights preventing you from looking up, so you settled for looking at charles instead.

"wow, i- i don't know what to say. i-" you began, swallowing the knot forming in your throat. as you paused the applause of the crowd roared back to life. "i guess i should start by thanking my team. the people on set who made all of this possible. thank you to the academy for this incredible night and unforgettable moment." you paused, looking at the award in your grasp. "thank you to charles, my fiance, he- he was with me the day i got the call. i thought i'd completely blown it at the audition and he jumped on a plane and flew to new york just so he could be with me that day. thank you for never giving up on me, for never letting me give up on my dreams even when i so desperately felt the need to." you felt your eyes tearing up, as charles stood with his palms together over his lips, and with all the lights you could see he was on the verge of tears as well.

"this is a night that i'll never forget, and i've loved spending every second of it with you. thank you for everything you've done for me. thank you to every one at home, those who supported this film. thank you for tonight, a night i will never forget."

you thought back to that night in february as you stood with the rest of the ferrari team, watching as charles made his way on to the top spot on the podium. the podium which now gave him his first world championship title.

as the national anthems played, charles' eyes met yours, he winked and placed a hand on his heart, then pointed at you with his finger. you smiled, with your palms pressed together over your lips, the same position he was in just months ago as you achieved the biggest goal in your career. it seemed that history was repeating itself, but the roles were reversed as it was now your turn to stare in awe at the man who stole your heart completely, achieving the biggest goal in his career.