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closehereyes · 9 hours ago

Note

Hiii Capt. Morii~~😍

I really enjoyed reading it🥰

It exceeded my expectations and youre so right that the boys are touch starved. Hmmm🤔....

Since they are accustomed now to readers touched and really milking it(I'm not saying its Myst) and totally hovering over reader for attention(it's definitely not Baby). What if they had a fight, like the fight that the reader will give them silent treatment, just completely ignore them and won't give them a piece of affection🤔 to the point that they thought reader wants to leave them due to silent treatment and distance

(Okay, I'm rambling, I'm thinking of the reader not letting them(saja) touch them(!reader))

How would they react? Would they crave for it? Cry for it? Or beg for it?

I hope it makes sense😭😭😭 my mind is all over the place and I'm still gushing over them being spoiled. (And now I want some angst but still sweet?)

Thankyouuuu Capt. Morii💜✨️

Radio Silence—

2.0k words; Saja Boys x Reader Part 1 of 2 Others in the series | 1. 2. Masterlist | Requests paused!

You find out he's a demon.

A/N: Hi! Okay, first of all, I'm glad you enjoyed reading your last request. Second, I got a few requests kind of similar to his one, so I combined them to put them into the same part! And as you can see, there will be a part two for the comfort. Okay . . . bye, I hope you enjoy!

Jinu—

Nothing was happening the way it was supposed to. Gwi-Ma was on his head, Rumi believed him, the voices weren’t any quieter, the Idol Awards were approaching, they were so close to winning, and he felt conflicted.

The worst thing that could have happened to him was that you noticed. Noticed his reserved nature, noticed him stare at walls for hours on end, noticed how his hands would shake and held them through it.

“Jinu, what’s wrong?” you always asked, and every time he’d flash you a rehearsed smile, every time his gaze would lose its warmth. And he’d say,

“I’m fine.”

You’d never believe him, and he’d pull you close because he knew he didn’t deserve you, hold you gently because it was practice for when you inevitably left, savor your touch because he knew it shouldn’t belong to him. You let him.

But not this time.

“Jinu, why can you never tell me what’s up with you?” You finally snapped, your arms fanning around you as you stared through him. He was cemented in place. “Answer me! What’s going on, what don’t I know?”

“You-you . . .” he breathed, turning away from you. “You can’t know, (Y/N)—”

You scoffed, in disbelief. “I’m your partner, I comfort you. Why won’t you let me help you fix it?!”

“(Y/N)—”

“I care for you, Jinu, but you make it so impossible to make it better—”

“YOU CAN’T FIX ME,” Jinu finally shouted, his voice distorting, shaking the walls as his hands clenched. “I’M the problem—!”

Silence.

And then;

“What was that?” you asked, a tremble in your voice.

Fear in your eyes.

The world faded away.

“(Y/N)—”

“No, Jinu,” you denied, taking a step back from him. He’d seen that expression before. Remembered how he was shunned. “What was that—!”

“I . . . let me explain, please, (Y/N),” he took a step forward, only for you to flinch. God, no. Please, not this again. His hand reached out for you, and you watched him like he was dangerous. No, he wasn’t, not to you, never to you.

Still, your gaze was set on his hands. He looked down, just to see those awful patterns.

The realization that you’d seen him grew, saw who—what he was, and the patterns only strengthened. Crawling up his arms like jagged vines, tinting his skin a purple hue. The arms that held you, the hands that touched you.

Still, he was at a loss.

“Please, just—”

But you shook your head. No, you couldn’t say anything. Not as you backed away from him, not as you turned the knob on the door.

And Jinu was alone with his thoughts again.

» ⊱◈⊰

Abby—

He didn’t mean for it to happen like this.

Abby didn’t think that he was worth a dime of the things you gave him; your love, your time. The way you pulled him out of his mind and reminded him of what life was, what it could be. He wanted to protect that, to do right by you, to protect you, even if it meant . . . lying. He hated it. But you weren’t dumb, and it was getting increasingly hard to protect you the way he thought he should.

You were too observant. You noticed the way his eyes lingered on the dark, seeing things you weren’t trained to. You asked why he steered you away from certain places, how he tried to shield you from the invisible. And he could never answer.

Now? Now, after you saw what he could become? His claws, the snarl, the patterns? Now you demanded one.

“What’s going on with you?” You asked, your eye twitching as both stayed trained on his form. “You’ll tell me the truth about everything except . . . this! What is this?!”

How does he even come to tell you? He wasn’t supposed to be here. He was from a world your light would never see, and he was selfish to allow himself to crave it. Abby struggled to form a response. Did he tell you the truth? He had no choice but to, now. You knew.

“Just hear me out, please,” he begged, taking your hands, praying that you’d at least touch him. Let you feel his intent in his touch, just like you always did. That hope decayed as you tugged them from his like it burned. Abby let you. “I’m not—I’m not . . .”

“Human? Abby, when were you going to tell me?” You hissed, tears welling up in your eyes. “Were you just going to lie forever?”

“It wasn’t a lie,” he defended.

“A lie of omission is still a lie!” You backed away, your eyes narrowing at him. “This was important information! I just watched you tear into, what, a demon?”

Abby squirmed at the word. Your eyes widened, and you almost recoiled. “You’re a demon. YOU’RE a demon.”

“I am,” he swallowed thickly. No more lies. You deserved the truth, even if it was the last thing you got from him. “I . . . was never going to hurt you—”

“Who have you hurt?”

Abby blanked.

“I . . .”

You laughed wetly, wiping your eyes. Your Abby. He wasn’t even who you thought he was. You couldn’t do this.

His world crumbled around him as he watched you leave the alley through blurry vision, and he was falling back into his personal hell once again.

» ⊱◈⊰

Mystery—

For once in a long, long time, Mystery heard him.

Gwi-Ma.

A reminder of his purpose there.

Initially, Mystery did not have many problems with those damned dronings of a demon king. He could block them out just fine, even better with you. But he was a fool to think that was his own doing.

Hands clenched into fists at the mutterings filling his head like a curse, his eyes glaring holes through the wall. He heard every word, louder than the thumping of his heart in his ears. The lightbulbs cracked. The microwave went out and the glowing time on it reset to zero. The oven beeped as if it had just been installed.

A ceramic bowl shattered on the ground.

That wasn’t him.

“. . . Mystery?”

The man in question tensed up. Because in all the whispers, he failed to hear you. You, who was now unsteady on your feet. The air died, stiffening between the two of you.

Mystery could speak many languages other than literally saying what he meant, but not one of them could have said the right thing in that situation. “Wait, listen, please . . .”

Apparently, that wasn’t the correct option, because when Mystery moved to try and console you, you wouldn’t let him. His hands hovered, still, and he felt like he’d been stabbed.

Your eyes trailed around the kitchen, flicking up the lights. The devices that required reprograming. You stepped out of the shards at your toes, and away from Mystery.

All this time, Mystery thought he knew who he was, but all those thoughts disappeared when you asked.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he whispered, trying to round the island. The distance between you both only grew. “Please. I’m not—”

“What are you?”

His lips pressed downward, and he couldn’t answer. You knew the stories, anyway. “I thought they were gone. Why are you back?”

What was he supposed to tell you? To steal the souls of half the global population? For a demon king?

You only shook your head. You didn’t want to know. Knowing this was already too much. You had new clarity, and now too many things about him made sense. “I trusted you.”

“You can still trust me,” he promised. You both talked lowly, like any louder would break the dense fragility that had settled in the air. Still, he felt himself losing you.

And just like always, he was right.

» ⊱◈⊰

Romance—

Romance knew he shouldn’t have allowed himself this. He knew it was only going to turn out bad. It was a trend, one that seemed to follow him through time, whether that be human or otherwise.

Day, noon, night, Romance felt guilt. The things he’d done, the people he’d betrayed, the lives he helped take. He carried it with him because he knew that was the least he could do—feel the pain that he helped cause. And now you were holding him on the ground, watching him cry, and you didn’t even know why.

“Romance, you act like you’re such a terrible person,” you sighed, brushing one of his tears away. “I don’t understand, you act like you’re one of the worst people alive.” He was. Oh, he felt sick.

Romance couldn’t even answer you, couldn’t even tell you that you were wrong. But somehow, you got the hint anyway; maybe it was from that look in his eyes, maybe it was the way his body tightened in your arms at the words. But you just knew.

“What did you do?”

His mouth ran dry. Would you love him less if he told you? Would it be the lie or the truth that took you away from him?

He was pulled out of his thoughts when you let go of him, and suddenly he felt cold. Cold because you were the warmth he clung to when the cavity in his chest left him empty.

The truth slipped from him mindlessly, almost on autopilot. A splurge of too many things to make out as you stood up, and he had no strength to follow you. He could not even plead, not until you were looking at him like he was some monster.

Wasn’t he? He was sure most lovers weren’t planning to sacrifice the fans to something ancient and wicked and immortal at their next concert.

“I didn’t want it to happen like this!” Romance croaked, still on his knees as he watched you stare. Stare through him. “Listen, I just . . .”

“You’re just going to damn the world?” You hissed, moving for the door. “No. And when I died, too, what then? How can you even deal with the fact that you’re with me and you’re going to destroy everything!”

“It’s complicated, okay? I didn’t mean for this to happen, for you to happen, it changes everything, just please, don’t—”

But you refused to hear him out. You couldn’t. His calls fell on deaf ears, and you were gone.

Baby—

Baby didn’t know how it had escalated so quickly. Didn’t know how you found out. But he did know that he hated the way you looked at him.

“It’s not what you think,” he tried, frustration in his voice. Baby ran a hand through his hair—you wouldn’t let him close to you, putting as many things between you both as possible. You were having none of it. How could you? You’d just found out he’d killed people before. “It’s more complicated than just that—”

“Is it?? You’ve murdered people, Baby!”

“Because I had to!”

“You’re crazy!” you scoffed, grabbing your bag and immediately reaching for your keys. “You don’t have to do anything. You have free will!”

“That’s the thing, (Y/N), we really don’t.”

“Or what? You’ll die again? You’ll suffer more? Do you just want others to suffer with you?!” How could he live like that? Knowing every day that passed, he was closer to ruining an unimaginable amount of lives? “Do you even care, Baby? Who am I kidding, when do you ever?”

Baby’s eyes contracted at the jab, his voice going low. Quiet. You could see the faint auric gleam. Inhuman. “Don’t you dare imply that I care for nothing, not even you.”

“Maybe you don’t. Not enough, if it won’t make you stop.” You murmured, shaking your head. “All the missing persons cases, the recent tragedies . . .”

“Stop.”

“The train, the fliers—”

“Stop,”

“The lyrics, Baby—!”

“That’s not me!”

You stared at him for a long beat. Then another. “And still, you won’t leave.”

That’s okay. Because you did.

» ⊱◈⊰

A/N: Okay, so that's part one. I hope you enjoyed, I'm still working on the requests I have. Okay, see you soon!

—Captain Morii 🌤️

Morii's Business Class: @kpopmultistans @momentomoribitch

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closehereyes · 10 hours ago

Note

Thank you for accepting our requests! What would the Saja Boys think of you of you if they weren't dating you? (Their first thoughts about you)

Thank you :))

Thank you for the request! It was fun to think of how the boys would first see you. Here you go!💌

🌙Saja Boys x Reader — First Impressions

----------------

🧿 Jinu

He noticed you before you noticed him. Not in a creepy way, he’d argue. More like… professionally observant. Strategically aware.

You were new around the complex. Just a friend-of-a-friend tagging along during rehearsals, or maybe a temp choreographer’s assistant—he wasn’t sure. What he was sure of, though, was that you watched people more than you spoke. Not nosy. Not judgmental. Just… quietly cataloguing the world like it was some strange planet and you were trying to write a guidebook.

Most people looked at the Saja Boys with wide eyes. Or awe. Or subtle panic. You just tilted your head like hm.

He caught your eye once—when he’d fumbled during training and lit his sleeve on fire. You didn’t gasp. You didn’t run. You smiled and tossed him a half-empty water bottle with such casual aim it hit him dead-center in the chest.

“Caught that,” you said, already walking off.

That’s when he knew.

You weren’t scared of him.

And that made him very interested in finding out what you were.

----------------

💪 Abby

You wandered into the practice room at exactly the wrong time.

He was shirtless, mid-workout, with sweat dripping down his neck and three-hundred pounds balanced on his shoulders. You gasped. He flinched. The weight clanked back onto the bench and he sat up, sheepish and pink.

“Oh! Sorry—um, wrong door!” you said quickly, backing up.

“Wait, you good?” he called out, still catching his breath.

You paused in the doorway. “Yeah, just looking for the laundry chute. Someone told me it was through here.”

He frowned. “That person lied.”

He stood—towered—and wiped his face with a towel, then looked you over. Not in a flirtatious way, but with sincere worry. Your shoes were scuffed. Your posture tilted like you were used to carrying a heavy bag. And your hands…

“You haven’t eaten yet, have you?” he asked.

“…Maybe?”

That was all it took. Five minutes later, he was handing you an energy bar from his personal snack stash.

He didn’t know your name. He didn’t know your job.

But he was pretty sure he wanted to be your friend. Someone had to take care of you, and he had the biceps for it.

----------------

📚 Mystery

He felt you before he saw you.

Too warm. Not dangerous. But… weird. Like static, like intuition trying to finish a sentence it didn’t quite start. He crouched in the shadows near the corner of the hallway, half-phased into a mirror, just watching.

You were crouched next to a vending machine that’d eaten your change. You weren’t crying. You weren’t yelling. You were threatening it in poetry.

“If you do not spit my chips out in the next ten seconds, I will write you into a sonnet about betrayal,” you hissed. “You will weep, and the vending gods will know shame.”

He blinked.

Then tilted his head.

Then stared a little harder.

Who the hell were you?

When the machine sputtered and your bag of chips fell, you looked smug enough to win a battle. You didn’t notice him standing three feet behind you in a black hoodie and slippers, holding a cup of tea like he’d just rolled in from the void.

He stepped sideways into the shadows again without a sound.

He would absolutely be watching you more. Not because he liked you. He didn’t. Not yet.

…Maybe.

But he didn’t trust vending-machine-whisperers. Not on principle.

----------------

💋 Romance

He first saw you in a stairwell. Rain-drenched. Hood up. Soft music playing from your phone as you shook your shoes out before heading inside. He only noticed you because your laugh echoed against the stairwell walls—it wasn’t loud, but it was bright.

And then you caught him looking.

You smiled like you weren’t embarrassed at all.

“Oh hey,” you said. “Didn’t mean to serenade the staircase.”

He choked on his water.

You didn’t bat an eye. Just tipped him a mock-salute and kept going. You were humming something—an old ballad, but slower. Like it mattered more when you sang it.

He stared after you.

“Oh no,” he said aloud. “She’s cute.”

Later that night, he rewound the security footage on his phone just to hear that hum again. Just to catch the way your shoulders swayed as you walked, casual and self-assured.

He didn’t know what it was about you, but it hit him like a hook in a chorus: sudden and stuck in his head.

By the end of the week, he was fully convinced he was in a one-sided drama.

The other boys called it infatuation.

He called it fate.

----------------

🔥 Baby

He didn’t talk to you at first.

He watched.

Which sounds creepy—okay, was creepy—but in his defense, most people made too much noise. Too much perfume. Too many expectations.

But you? You were quiet.

You weren’t scared of him, but you weren’t obsessed either. You nodded hello in the halls. You asked if he wanted the last dumpling in the takeout box without trying to small talk. Once, you even wordlessly handed him your phone so he could beat a game level he was struggling with. You just... knew.

He didn’t know what to do with that.

The weirdest part?

You laughed at his jokes. Real laughs, not the nervous kind.

And when he left a flaming Hot Cheeto trail in the dorm hallway, you stepped right over it and said, “Make sure to clean that up or Jinu’s gonna step on it barefoot again.”

He blinked at you.

You raised an eyebrow.

“Hurry up. I can smell the lighter fluid.”

That’s when he knew: you weren’t boring.

And that meant trouble.

But the fun kind.

----------------

M-List

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closehereyes · 1 day ago

Text

All a lie

content warning(s): depressed user, cruel Baby, manipulation, Baby says mean stuff to the reader, suggested/implied coerced behavior (it's implied/suggested Baby is doing this against his will), angst, hurt no comfort, real world insecurities A/N: I'm probably going to delete this later, I'm positive nobody wants to read anything based on my broken ass mental state. I'm well aware of my lack of worth, I almost wrote something far more darker but held back. This is far more tame... But here, enjoy this before its gone, or don't.

Everything you had was a lie.

Every laugh together, every shared moment spent in one another’s arms, and the words shared. All of it.

Baby stares down at you with a look of disgust, and it makes your stomach churn at seeing such a foreign expression on his face. “Baby?”

He scoffs and turns his head away from you. “Don’t call me that.”

Your heart breaks a little more at the cold disinterest in his voice, like you were nothing more than a bug under his shoe.

“Wh…what? I-I don’t…” Your voice shakes, confusion and fear racing through your mind and body.

“Man, you really are fucking stupid.” He spits out.

The cussing catches you completely off guard, you’ve heard him cuss before, but it’s never been aimed at you.

Baby eyes you up and down, his lip curling in disgust, realizing he’ll have to explain it to you. “I never cared about you. I used you, dumbass.”

Four figures make their presence known just out of the corner of your eye, but you’re far more focused on Baby’s words. “What?”

One of the figures crosses their arms, and Baby shifts uncomfortably, looking at you with a malicious smirk. “I. Used. You. Baby doll.” He leans over, inching closer between every word until his face is inches from yours.

“All of it was fake. I needed arm candy, and you were more than willing to play pretend.” He shrugs, pulling away from you and shoving his hands into his pockets, almost uncomfortably.

Your mind spirals. Months, months of dating Baby, and it was all fake? But that couldn’t be true, no, he…

“But you said…”

“Fuck sake, I lied!” he yells, a burst of anger flaring through him as purple markings briefly appear, his eyes flashing golden before settling back to normal. He pants softly, his fingers curling up into fists at his side.

“You think someone could love you?”

The question stabs at your heart like an icy knife.

“You’re so fucking depressing, there’s a reason nobody wants to be around your sad excuse.”

Baby’s face grows blurry in your eyes.

“How fucking sad is it to be your age and still have no friends? Why would someone want to date you?”

Your pounding heartbeat rings in your ears so loud it drowns out his words. Every word a dagger to your heart, stabbing you repeatedly until you slipped from your knees and onto your butt, your shoulders dropping.

In this state, you don’t know when Baby stopped talking, blurry figures finally move forward. One of them gives Baby’s shoulder a squeeze before letting go, and another figure drapes their arm over his shoulder to guide him away from you.

Unable to move, frozen in that lone spot as Baby and the figures walk away. Not once does he look back at you, not even when he hears your ugly, broken cries.

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closehereyes · 1 day ago

Note

Hihi, I've read almost all of your works and I really really love them! Feel free to delete this ask if it makes you uncomfortable or if you just dont want to write it, but could you write for a gn!reader that has an eating disorder and is constantly trying to count calories? Seriously, dont feel pressured to write this cus I know a lot of people struggle with it! But again, I really love your writing, take care of yourself!

Thank you for the request! I will treat this with the care it deserves, Hope you enjoy! 💌

🌙Saja Boys x Reader — With an Eating Disorder

There’s nothing graphic in this and it's focused mainly on comfort, but please be mindful of your own comfort before reading.

------------------

🧿 Jinu

Jinu saw it before you ever said a word.

The way your fingers paused over food labels. How your fork scraped the same corner of your plate over and over. How your phone screen dimmed just as you looked up when the waiter brought a menu.

He didn’t say anything the first few times.

But one night, he made a quiet choice. He sat beside you at the kitchen table and started reading his ingredients aloud.

“Blueberries,” he said, inspecting the small package. “You think they name them that because they’re blue or because they’re sad?”

You blinked. “What?”

He smiled, soft and a little awkward. “I thought we could guess how sad each food is tonight instead of tracking numbers.”

You didn’t laugh. But you did breathe.

And for the first time in days, you ate without calculating every bite. Just a few pieces of fruit. Just enough to stop shaking.

Jinu didn’t push.

He just peeled an orange and passed you a slice.

Like maybe being fed was the opposite of being afraid.

------------------

💪 Abby

Abby wasn’t always the first to pick up on subtleties.

But he noticed patterns. And yours were starting to hurt.

When he found you in the practice room again, sitting on the floor with an untouched protein bar beside you, he knelt down quietly.

“You counting again?”

You didn’t answer, but you didn’t look up either.

So Abby did the only thing that made sense to him.

He sat down. Reached for your hand. And wrapped it in his.

“Okay,” he said gently. “Then count this.”

You looked up.

“My heartbeat. You feel that?”

You nodded slowly, unsure.

“That’s yours now too,” he said, brushing his thumb over your wrist. “That beat right there? That means you’re still here. And I’m glad.”

No fixing. No lectures. Just a firm, steady hand around yours, holding you like something precious.

Because Abby didn’t need you to be strong the way he was.

He just needed you to stay.

------------------

📚 Mystery

Mystery didn’t ask questions unless he already knew the answer.

And today, he didn’t ask anything at all.

He just saw the untouched lunch tray. The way your eyes skimmed over each item like it was something to be solved. Measured. Resisted.

So he sat beside you and pulled out a sketchbook.

Not food.

Not questions.

Just charcoal on paper.

You watched him for a while. He didn’t look up, didn’t speak, but eventually, he shifted the book toward you.

On the page: a mess of lines. Not a masterpiece. Just movement. Texture. Noise turned into shape.

“That’s what it feels like in my head when I haven’t eaten,” he said, quiet. “Static.”

You blinked.

“I can’t think. Can’t draw. Not really.”

He nudged the tray toward you—slow, no pressure. Just there.

And then he went back to sketching.

Silent. Steady.

A shadow beside you that didn’t leave, no matter how long you stared at your food.

------------------

💋 Romance

Romance knew how to read the room. And tonight, your energy was flickering.

He saw you rearranging food on your plate like you were choreographing avoidance. Pushing pieces. Replacing bites with sips of water.

So he slid closer.

Not dramatic. Just close enough to lean against your side, head resting lightly on your shoulder.

“You ever notice how food tastes different when you think you deserve it?” he asked softly.

Your hand paused mid-fidget. “I… what?”

“Like—when you’re sad or hurting, it tastes like guilt. But when you’re safe? It tastes like home.”

You didn’t know what to say.

Romance tilted his head to look at you, voice gentler now. “I want you to feel like home with me.”

He wasn’t asking you to eat. Not right away.

He was asking you to stay.

In the moment. In your body. In the softness of being cared for without condition.

You didn’t eat much that night. But you didn’t leave the table, either.

And that was enough.

------------------

🔥 Baby

Baby didn’t try to sugarcoat it.

“You didn’t eat again,” he said, standing in the kitchen doorway. His voice wasn’t harsh, but it was firm.

You didn’t respond.

He exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t get it. I mean, I get it, but—” He stopped. Shook his head. Tried again.

“I don’t like seeing you hurt yourself like this. Quietly. Like it’s not a big deal.”

You stared at the counter.

And then, softly: “It doesn’t feel like hurting. It feels like control.”

Baby went quiet.

Then he crossed the room, pulled a chair close, and sat so your knees were almost touching.

“I used to burn everything around me when I felt out of control,” he murmured. “So I get it. You want to contain it. But… this?” He reached out, palm open. “You don’t have to carry it like this.”

You looked at him—really looked—and saw the fire banked behind his eyes. Not gone. Just held.

And for once, you reached back.

Not for the food. Not yet.

But for his hand.

And that was a start.

------------------

M-List

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closehereyes · 1 day ago

Note

Abs of Abby didnt do much for me in Soda Pop but the "Play me on repeat, kkeuteopsi in your head" and "I can be your sanctuary" part...OMG like the big step he takes, the hand movement, playing with the beads of the hat...LIKE STEP ON ME SIR... I would like to request Abby with your idol outfit (like the boots, the leather pants, the fishnet top...what a slut) × fem reader in which reader simps for him and he sees her as a plaything for a while but then falls for her. Ofc if you are okay with it you can add a little bit of spice aswell. Thank you!!

Abby x MakeupArtist!Reader [pt 1/3?]

Prompt : Abby is lowkey a flirt and his new makeup artist is just trying to survive.

Author's Note : I was actually trying not to die writing this. I kinda gaslit myself into liking Abby even more than i already do???? Anyways. This is pt 1 of 3 (3 parts for now). Imma capture the whole play boy thing in the next chapter! There's also a reason his other makeup artists kept getting fired... Not Proof Read!

You were a makeup artist and you were really good at what you did. You were so good that many companies often sought after you to bring their crazy concepts to life.

Your favourite group to work for so far had been Huntrix. You had been working under their company for the past few years and figured you needed a change of pace.

The girls, clingier than ever, absolutely refused. Begging and pleading with you to stay every day. Especially Rumi. You had no idea how but the girl had somehow gotten half her body tattooed without letting anyone know?

Not that it was any of your concern though. She seemed happier than ever and it made you happy as well. Unfortunately, they didn't succeed in their tactics.

"Come on Y/n, think of all the times we've spent here togetherrrrrrr," Zoey whined, laying across your suitcase so you couldn't put any more of your tools into it.

"Zoey, we're still going to hang out," you laughed at his childish behaviour. "I'll just be working somewhere else now."

"It's not the same Y/n," Mira grumbled, a pout on her face as she handed you everything you were looking for. Rumi nodded in agreement with her from your couch.

"You guys," you sighed, turning to the three of them. For a second, you felt like you were going to cry. You had been working under Eclipse labels for the last three years of your career. The girls had become your closest friends during that time.

You knew that it would be difficult not being able to see them every day but you wanted to reach out and try new things. You wiped an unshed tear from your eyes before putting on a brave face. "Don't make me cry on my last day here," you sniffled.

Immediately, you were pulled into a tight group hug.

The girls eventually let you go and finish packing. As you left they waved you off, making you promise to come back to hang out at least once a week. Sleep overs would happen every other day.

At your apartment, you began applying for new jobs. You were in no rush, considering you were great at your job and well known in the industry you had absolutely no struggle finding a new job.

It didn't even take a whole day for you to receive a new job offer. It was from the Saja Boys, the new boy group that rivalled your girls. You hadn't known much about them or seen a live performance yet seeing as when they first arrived in Korea you were on holiday in Hawaii.

You sighed, starting to do research on the group. Funny enough the only form of musical content they had uploaded was of their debut. It was on the street. They were performing such a go-lucky song that was so incredibly bright.

Honestly you didn't understand the hype. Soda-Pop was a good song.There was absolutely nothing wrong with the song. It was cute and a little catchy. Unfortunately, the whole aesthetic just threw you off. While the boys were cute, it was odd watching grown men jump around in bright neon colours.

It was a drastic change from Huntr/x and their girl crush concept. However, this was exactly what you were looking for. A change from the usual makeup art you had been doing all of your career.

So with slight reluctance, you accepted the job offer, calling in to schedule an interview as well as your working times.

It was a Monday when you started your first shift. You had been tasked with doing the boys' makeup for a variety show where they would show their fans a bit more of their personality while also teasing their newest comeback.

You were supposed to meet with your new boss, the head stylist, first. But you were already lost.

"What is with fancy k-pop groups and huge buildings," you scoffed, walking around in your painful heels, why did you wear those again?, as you searched for anything that could possibly help you find your way.

As you turned a corner, your eyes were set on a serious looking woman. You swallowed down your fear, putting on a face of completely fake confidence, and walked towards her.

As you stood before her, you cleared your throat, stretching out a hand. "Hello Angela. I'm Y/n, the makeup artist."

The woman looked up from her phone, eyes lazily staring you up and down before lighting up in recognition. Her posture changed immediately, excitement obvious with the way she was tittering on her heels. "Hi! You're so much prettier in person."

You couldn't help but smile at the compliment. Obviously you misread her, she seemed just as excited as you were. "I look pretty? You look stunning!"

The two of you went back and forth for a while, complimenting each other's style till she realised she was meant to be working. "Oh my days! I almost forgot. Let me show you where you'll be working today."

As she led you down the hallway, she explained that you were specifically going to styling Abby. Supposedly most of his stylists ended up quitting within weeks for unknown reasons. Angela told you about her theory. Abby had to be scaring them away or just straight up annoying them until they reached their limit.

You laughed, this would be interesting. You vaguely remembered what he looked like. He was the muscular one in their bubble gum pop song. With the odd Hawaiian themed shirt.

She led you to what was obviously a private room, standing by the door and motioning for you to head inside. "This is where I leave you," she smiled. "Please don't quit. You seem super fun"

You both laughed and made promises to hang out after if you survived.

And with that you entered the room.

The room was bigger than you thought it would be, and it was empty. It was quite obvious that you had been the first one to enter. With a content sigh, you began setting up your materials. Makeup brushes, powders, glosses, concealer, everything one would possibly need.

Five minutes had gone by and the man still hadn’t come in, with a sigh, you lounged across the makeup chair, debating on whether you should change into a different top that you wouldn’t mind getting dirty.

Before you could come to a conclusion, the door slammed open. You stood up immediately, bowing your head in respect before standing to get a proper first look at the man. Your eyes were going to fall out of your head.

“Are you my new makeup artist?”

It was an easy question. You should’ve been able to answer it with ease. But the way he said it??? The way he said ‘my’ as though you weren’t just working for him but you belonged to him?

With a deep breath you nodded. “My name is Y/n and I’ll be working on your make up,” you more or less repeated his question.

He did nothing but smirk before moving closer to you. Now for the reason you were flustered? This wasn’t the man you saw in the soda-pop music video. The man in that video wore some turquoise button up that was too tight for his body and a pair of skinny jeans. The man that was right in front of you was straight up shirtless.

You were staring up at him wide eyed when he leaned down to whisper in your ear. “Are you going to stand there the whole time or let me sit down princess?”

You gasped in embarrassment before moving away, you didn’t need to look into a mirror to confirm how red your face must have been. “Stupid Y/nie,” you thought in your head as the man chuckled and got into the makeup seat.

Looking to the sky as though saying a quick prayer to the Lord, you gathered the courage to get started on his makeup.

–

You were starting to understand why everyone before you had quit so soon.

The man refused to comply with anything you asked. You had been working on concealing his under eye bags when he began man-spreading. There was no way for you to work comfortably in front of him and you were pretty sure he knew it.

You let out a sigh of frustration, backing away from him.

He looked up from his phone to stare at you innocently. “Having trouble?”

“No,” you sent a fake smile. “It’s just a bit difficult to work when you’re sitting like that.”

He looked at you feigning innocence before sitting up. Putting his phone on the vanity before reaching out to grab your waist. It was only then that you noticed how much bigger he was compared to you.

He maneuvered your body so you stood between his legs, giving you ample space to reach out for his face. You were left in a state of shock when he leaned back, a grin on his face. This wasn’t fair.

You were expecting a cocky man who dressed in mismatched neon highlighter outfits. Not this cocky, shirtless, muscular, fine as hell, really strong, nice looking, handsome, confident….

“Better?” he asked, breaking your thoughts.

You swallowed, nodding quickly before refocusing on your work. You forced yourself to ignore the way you were basically pressing up against him to reach his face.

–

You quickly learnt that he didn’t just get his makeup done in the room. Two of his outfit stylists had entered the room when you were working on highlighting his face. Fortunately, he had begun behaving so you were no longer standing between his legs but were instead standing beside him, gently brushing at his eyelids.

When the door had opened, you almost jumped in surprise as two energetic women entered the room. Your eyes widened at their outfits, pretty tight crop tops and mini-skirts.

As they laid eyes on you, you could practically see the excitement leave their bodies as they narrowed their eyes at you. One was about to speak, her gaze condescending when the other forcefully grabbed her arm to shut her up.

The other looked annoyed but quickly realized who else was in the room with you. “Abby oppa~” she cooed, your eyes widened, quickly realizing why they seemed so pissed. “Who is this?”

Abby, who had seemingly found peace in your hands, briefly opened his eyes to glance at them. “She’s my new makeup artist,” he said before closing his eyes, assuming you’d continue your work. There it was. The way he said “my” again.

The girls said nothing, but you could tell they hated you. They glared hard at you, distracting you from your work. Suddenly, you felt a firm squeeze at your waist, gasping in shock, you looked down.

Abby’s eyes were still closed but he was obviously getting annoyed at your long pause. “Are you gonna continue princess?”

You said nothing but continued your work, praying the two girls would stop plotting your death.

–

Eventually, he had to get dressed. The two girls, after sucking up to him for a while, reluctantly left. You turned to the mirror to begin packing up, also to give him space to get dressed.

It had been a few minutes of silence when he spoke again. “Y/n,” he called out. You, none the wiser (even though you should probably be on guard at this point) turned.

How was the guy hotter than before? The boots, the leather pants, the fishnet top… He was still practically shirtless, his toned body only more defined because of the top. Your eyes trailed up to his face, he’d caught you staring again.

“W-what do you need?” You fumbled over your words, facepalming mentally.

He gestured to his lips, a knowing smirk on his face. “You haven’t put on the lipstick yet”

This man was actually going to be the end of you.

You rummaged through your pockets, finding a nice glossy purple colour. You moved closer to him, getting up on your tiptoes to reach him. He let out a chuckle, that did something to your brain, before leaning down so he was at your eye level.

“Go on.”

You took in a breath, opening the lipstick before gently pressing it to his pretty, pink, plump, soft, shiny…

Swallowing your nerves, you used your pinky to smudge the gloss so it stayed perfectly. Once you finished, you quickly backed away. He was in no rush to stand, putting on the black beaded gat on his head as he left the room.

“See ya princess.”

As soon as he left you let yourself fall to the floor. Why did you take this job??? You needed to tell Angela and the girls everything.

375 notes · View notes

closehereyes · 2 days ago

Note

CAN WE GET A SAJA BOYS (SEPARATE) X READER WHERE READER IS SUOER GOOD AT GIVING MASSAGES, AND GIVES THEM ONE AFTER A PRETTY STRESSFUL DAY?

-⭐️

Thank you for the request! These are always fun to write lol. Here you go!💌

🌙 Saja Boys x Reader – You Give the Best Massages

------------------

🧿 Jinu

Jinu wasn’t the type to admit when he was stressed.

He just sat a little too still. Smiled a little too tightly. Rubbed the back of his neck as if trying to manually release the tension coiled in his spine.

You found him like that on the balcony, sitting in a patio chair with his tea untouched, his gaze unfocused.

“Turn around,” you said softly.

He blinked. “What?”

You stepped behind him, placing your hands on his shoulders. “I said, turn around. Let me help.”

Jinu stiffened as your thumbs pressed into the knots beneath his hoodie, but he didn’t pull away.

You worked in silence—slow, firm pressure along the cords of muscle between his shoulder blades. He exhaled sharply, head tilting forward just slightly.

“That’s… wow. That’s really good,” he muttered.

You smiled. “You carry everything here,” you said, kneading gently. “Let me take some of it off your shoulders.”

For once, he didn’t argue. Just leaned back into your touch, eyes closing.

Later, he’d quietly bring you a blanket and your favorite tea.

But in that moment, all he said was: “Don’t stop.”

------------------

💪 Abby

Abby looked like nothing could shake him. Unbothered, unbreakable, all relaxed charm and big energy.

But after back-to-back rehearsals and helping move heavy set pieces when no one else could, even he had his limit.

You found him face-down on the floor, groaning into a pillow.

“I’m dying,” he mumbled.

You grinned. “Good. Stay there.”

You straddled his lower back and started working your hands up his spine. He jolted.

“Wait—woah, that’s—holy crap.”

Your thumbs hit a tense spot near his shoulder blades and he let out a very un-Abby-like whimper.

“You’re tense,” you teased.

“I’m always tense. I didn’t know until just now,” he muttered into the pillow.

You laughed, but your touch stayed steady—rolling circles into his shoulders, then kneading into the muscles of his arms. Slowly, Abby melted under you like warm butter.

By the end, he was completely limp.

“You’re magic,” he groaned. “Marry me.”

You smacked his shoulder playfully. “Let me finish the massage first.”

------------------

📚 Mystery

You didn’t notice it at first.

Mystery never looked tired. He didn’t slump or complain or sigh dramatically.

But his silence had shifted—more withdrawn, more brittle.

So when he sat beside you, eyes shadowed and shoulders tight, you didn’t ask questions. You just reached out, lightly brushing your fingers over his arm.

He flinched—but only a little.

“Let me?” you asked quietly.

After a pause, he nodded.

You moved behind him, fingers finding the edge of his shoulder blade, working along the tight bands of tension he’d clearly been ignoring. He didn’t speak, but he tilted his head slightly to the side—giving you access.

You felt him unravel in degrees. A breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. A subtle shiver when you found just the right spot near his neck.

Finally, he whispered, “…Feels good.”

“I know,” you said. “You don’t have to hold everything by yourself, you know.”

He didn’t reply, but you felt it—the way his fingers brushed yours afterward, small and deliberate.

A thank you in silence.

------------------

💋 Romance

Romance lived for affection, but even he had bad days. Off-stage stress, a manager with too many opinions, and a performance that didn’t go how he wanted—it left him sulking on the couch, arms crossed, frown threatening to settle in for the night.

You came up behind him quietly, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing the crown of his head.

“Want me to help?” you asked.

He turned just enough to meet your eyes. “You’ll make me cry.”

“I’ll risk it.”

You pulled him onto the floor between your knees and began massaging his shoulders, thumbs pressing in small circles.

He melted. Instantly.

“Oh god, you’re good at this,” he moaned. “Is this love? Is this how I die?”

You rolled your eyes affectionately. “Yes, by massage. Very tragic.”

As you worked down his back, he sighed, completely boneless in your hands. His voice dipped quieter.

“…Thank you.”

You kissed his shoulder. “Always.”

And later, when you tried to stop, he dramatically flopped back onto you.

“Now I live here. This is my home.”

------------------

🔥 Baby

Baby never asked.

But you noticed how he moved a little slower that night, hoodie riding up his back as he sprawled on the floor after practice, arms crossed under his head like a makeshift pillow.

You sat beside him and poked his side.

“Wanna trade? I give you a massage, you stop being grumpy.”

He grunted. “I’m not grumpy.”

You arched a brow. “That wasn’t a no.”

So you scooted behind him and gently placed your hands on his back.

At first, he tensed like he was trying not to react.

Then your palms pressed into the tight space between his shoulders—and he groaned.

“Don’t tell anyone I made that noise,” he mumbled.

“I’m recording it for blackmail,” you teased, grinning.

But you kept going—slow, methodical, watching his posture shift as he finally let himself relax. His breathing evened out. His hands unclenched.

When you stopped, he cracked one eye open.

“…Ten more minutes.”

You smirked. “You like this, huh?”

“…Shut up.”

But the next night, he was already sitting on the floor, hoodie off, waiting.

------------------

M-List

698 notes · View notes

closehereyes · 2 days ago

Note

Yes! A blog for KPop demon hunters! 👉👈 I hope you didn't already do this one. How would the Saja boys react to an S/O that's easily flustered. Like they could just wink at them, and they'd be a puddle of mush.

Flustered

Pairings: Saja boys x Female Reader Warnings: Pure fluff, teasing You got flustered over every small things they did. And they love it so much...

ABBY

You were already pink in the cheeks.

All he’d done was walk in—drenched in post-gym sweat, tank top clinging to his chest, biceps flexing with every step—and give you a wink. That was it. Just one cocky, casual wink. And you felt like you might combust.

Your eyes dropped immediately to the floor. Shoulders tensed. Your lips parted like you wanted to say something, but all that came out was a squeaky, “Hi.”

Abby grinned, slow and smug. He stepped closer, tugging the bottom of his tank up just a little—just enough to flash his rock-solid abs.

“Damn, baby,” he said, voice low, full of that Abby heat. “You always get this red when I walk in, or did you just miss me that bad?”

You felt wrecked. Eyes wide, cheeks blooming to a dangerous shade of red, hands wringing in your lap like you were physically restraining yourself from touching him.

Abby let out a low chuckle and crossed his arms over his chest, which of course just made every muscle pop. He knew exactly what he was doing.

“Girl,” he said, stepping into your space with that lazy swagger of his. “You look like you just saw me naked.”

You buried your face in your hands with a helpless groan.

“Oh my god—stop talking,” you mumbled, voice muffled by your palms.

“Nah.” He was grinning now, kneeling down in front of you, elbows resting on his thighs. “You blush so easy it’s criminal. You know that?”

“Don’t look at me.”

“I am lookin’ at you. You’re the cutest little flustered mess I’ve ever seen.”

You peeked out from between your fingers, pouting.

“Gonna cry if I flex again?” he teased, raising one brow—and flexing his arm on purpose, because of course he did.

“Abby!”

“What?” he laughed. “It’s not my fault I got a girl who can’t handle all this.” He gestured to himself with both hands. “I should come with a warning label or somethin’.”

“Ugh, you’re the worst.”

“But I’m your worst.” He leaned in, voice soft but smug. “And if you keep lookin’ at me like that, sweetheart, I’m gonna have to put those pretty cheeks to use.”

You made another helpless little noise and buried your face again.

Abby just grinned, leaned down to press a kiss to the top of your head, and whispered:

“God, I love you like this. All flustered and sweet. Makes me wanna ruin you even more.”

BABY

It started with just a smile. That slow, crooked, devastating kind of smile he knew got you every damn time. He looked up from where he was sprawled across the couch, one arm lazily thrown behind his head, black t-shirt riding up just enough to show a sliver of toned stomach.

And then—the wink. Wicked. Sharp. Intentional.

You froze mid-step, like your brain just bluescreened. Your mouth opened and closed once, twice, like you wanted to say something, but all that came out was a breathy, “...oh.”

Your cheeks flushed so fast it was almost comical. A bright pink rising from your chest to your ears in seconds.

Baby bit back a grin. Didn’t even have to touch you.

“Oh?” he drawled, tilting his head, amber eyes sparkling with amusement. “That all you got for me, sweetheart?”

You flailed. “I wasn’t— I didn’t mean—! You winked at me!”

He sat up slowly, like a lion stretching after a nap. His smile deepened as he watched you try to hide behind your own hands, cheeks burning, eyes darting anywhere but him.

“You say that like I winked on accident,” he said, voice low and cocky. “I know exactly what I’m doing.”

“Clearly,” you mumbled into your palms.

He stood and crossed the room with that signature slow strut—confident, but lazy like he had all the time in the world. And once he was in front of you, he dipped down just a little, getting way too close to your ear.

“Y’know,” he murmured, “it’s kinda unfair how cute you are when you’re like this.”

You squeaked.

“I just look at you, and your whole system shuts down. Like you’re overheating or something.”

“I am overheating,” you hissed. “Because you’re—!”

“Hot?” he offered with a grin.

You groaned. “Insufferable.”

He laughed, leaning back just enough to take in your red cheeks and watery eyes—completely wrecked from one wink and a few words.

“You are so damn easy to fluster,” he said, genuinely amused. “It’s actually dangerous.”

“You’re dangerous.”

He shrugged, smug as ever. “You love it.”

Your eyes narrowed like you were about to argue, but the blush gave you away.

Baby leaned in one last time, voice dropping just enough to make your knees tremble.

“I could ruin you without lifting a finger,” he whispered. “Wanna test it?”

You nearly collapsed.

He caught you with one hand on your waist and a soft chuckle in your ear.

“God, I love you like this.”

ROMANCE

It was a quiet afternoon. You were curled up with a book across the room, pretending to read—though Romance could feel your eyes flicking to him every few seconds. He was leaned back in the armchair, hair slightly tousled, a soft long-sleeve clinging to him just right.

He noticed your stare. And oh, he smiled. That gentle, dreamy kind of smile that made your heart skip.

Then—he blew you a kiss. Slowly. Like he meant it. Like it was a promise and a confession in one.

You choked on nothing, the book nearly slipping from your hands. Your face went bright red, ears included, and you instantly buried your face behind the book like that could somehow hide your entire existence.

Romance’s grin grew. He stood slowly, walked over with that warm grace of his, and crouched in front of you with his chin resting on the cushion, gazing up at you like you’d painted the stars.

“Are you hiding?” he asked softly.

“No,” you squeaked, voice muffled by the book.

“You are. You’re blushing so much it’s glowing through the pages.”

“Stop it.”

He chuckled gently, reaching up to tug the book down—just enough to see your eyes, wide and watery.

“Baby,” he whispered, brushing his thumb across your cheek. “You blush like it’s the first time I’ve ever looked at you.”

“It feels like it,” you muttered. “You’re unfair.”

He tilted his head, all soft curiosity and dangerous sweetness. “Because I blew you a kiss?”

You nodded, cheeks still ablaze.

He leaned in closer, lips brushing the shell of your ear.

“I’ll blow you a thousand more if it keeps you looking this sweet.”

You gasped again, hiding your face in your hands now.

He laughed—soft, adoring, like you’d just handed him the sun.

“My god,” he murmured. “You really are my favorite thing.”

You peeked at him through your fingers, voice tiny. “You’re being mean.”

“Mean?” he echoed, pretending to be wounded. “I’m being romantic. You're the one who turns into a flustered little cherry every time I even smile.”

“Because you’re pretty.”

He paused. Blinking once. Then grinned like you’d just wrecked him. “Say that again.”

“No.”

“Say it.”

“You’re pretty,” you groaned.

He pressed a hand to his chest, actually swooning. “You want me to die, don’t you?”

You smiled, still hiding.

Romance leaned in and kissed the tips of your fingers, then your knuckles, and finally your forehead.

“I love this part of you,” he said gently. “This shy, soft part that melts just for me.”

Then, with a smirk that barely hid his own wrecked heart, he whispered:

“Now imagine what I’d do if I really tried.”

You nearly short-circuited. And he just kissed you again, like he had all the time in the world to adore you—because he did.

MYSTERY

They were all hanging out in the studio—Saja boys sprawled across couches, bickering over lyrics, half-finished snacks everywhere. Music was thudding low in the background, someone’s laugh echoing from the hallway. And you were sitting quietly off to the side, legs crossed, phone in hand, just existing.

That was when Mystery moved. No one noticed at first—he was always quiet, always shadow-smooth in his movements. But you noticed.

Because he came up behind you and gently rested a hand on your shoulder. Just enough to make your heart skip. And then—without saying a word—he leaned down and pressed the softest kiss to your temple. Warm. Lingering. Barely audible over the buzz of the room.

Your entire brain short-circuited. Your shoulders jerked up like someone had hit you with a live wire. The phone nearly slipped from your hands.

And your face? Flushed. Instantly. From your neck to the tips of your ears, you were burning. Staring straight ahead like if you moved, you might explode.

“M-Myst,” you stammered, voice barely above a whisper, “you—what was that—?”

He just stood there for a moment, hand still resting lightly on your shoulder, lips quirked in the faintest—faintest—hint of a smile. Then he leaned closer, his voice low and softer than silk.

“You looked like you needed it.”

You blinked rapidly, mouth trying and failing to form words.

“Y-You… you never—”

“I know,” he said, stepping back just slightly. “That’s why you’re red, isn’t it?”

You let out a strangled sound—somewhere between a squeak and a full-body wheeze.

He tilted his head. “You okay?”

“I— I— no! I mean yes— but you— Mystery, there are people around!”

He glanced at the boys across the room. “They didn’t see.”

“They might have!”

He shrugged, still quiet, still unreadable—but his eyes were softer now. A little amused. A little proud.

“I’ll do it again if it helps,” he murmured.

You nearly imploded.

He leaned in just a little more—still teasing, but with that calm, deliberate edge of his. “You always get this flustered when I touch you in front of people?”

“I always get flustered when you do anything,” you hissed under your breath, clutching your phone like a lifeline.

He chuckled softly. So rare. So quiet. Just for you.

“Good.”

Then he walked back to his corner of the room like he hadn’t just annihilated your nervous system with a single kiss. And you sat there, still red, still buzzing, swearing under your breath that he was the worst—and loving every second of it.

JINU

You were sitting across the room, completely unaware that you were being hunted.

Jinu leaned against the far wall, arms crossed, watching you. His eyes—normally warm brown, soft and unreadable—glinted with something far less human. Gold. Not fully glowing. Just a flicker of that true form, barely visible in the dim light.

You looked up at the exact moment his smirk curled into place—slow, dangerous, intentional.

And that was it.

Your entire body tensed. Your breath caught. Your face went crimson in seconds, like your blood had ignited under your skin. You squeaked, choked on air, and immediately ducked your head like that could somehow save you from the weight of his stare.

Jinu’s smirk deepened. His voice came low, amused, lazy—taunting.

"That all it takes, love?"

You didn’t answer. Couldn’t. Your hands were fidgeting in your lap now, knees knocking slightly together, lips parted like you wanted to scold him but couldn’t remember how language worked.

He pushed off the wall, strolling toward you slowly, like a predator who already knew he’d won.

“One little look,” he murmured, “and you're already squirming in that seat.”

“Y-You—!” you stammered, still bright red. “You did that on purpose!”

He raised a brow. “You mean this?” His eyes flickered golden again—brief, sharp, absolutely lethal.

You whined and turned your face away, burying it in your hands.

Jinu chuckled, crouching in front of you now, just enough so you had to feel the heat of his presence.

"You're not very good at hiding things, sweetheart,” he murmured. “Your face gives you away every time.”

“Stop looking at me like that,” you whispered, barely managing the words.

“Like what?”

“Like—like you're about to eat me alive.”

That earned a low, deep laugh from him. “That’s because I am.”

You made a strangled noise.

Jinu leaned in, brushing his thumb over your flushed cheek. “God, you’re pretty when you're like this.”

You peeked at him through your fingers. “You’re the worst.”

“No,” he said gently, kissing the back of your hand. “I’m yours.”

His golden eyes shimmered again—slow, controlled, intimate.

“And I love watching what I do to you, just with a look.”

You melted. Right there. Completely wrecked from a smirk and the glint of demon fire in his eyes.

And Jinu? He looked at you like you were the most exquisite thing in existence—his exquisite thing—and he’d never stop playing with you if it meant seeing that blush again

748 notes · View notes

closehereyes · 2 days ago

Text

Silly, Goofy Saja Boys

Saja Boys x reader Genre: Mild romance, fluff Summary: Abby and Y/n have been pranking each other for weeks. Most of them are good jokes, but some have been putting tension on the group. It's time to put a stop to it... well, one more prank couldn't hurt, right? Warnings: cursing

“Nooo,” Abby was wailing at the loss of one of his favorite shirts. “I needed this for today! I was going to shoot that promo video!!”

“Just use another shirt.” Y/n’s voice came from the couch where she was scrolling through Instagram, unconcerned.

“No Y/n,” Abby wiped a tear from his eye. “This was the S tier shirt. The one that makes all my fans look at me more.”

“Your fans look at you anyway. Get a grip.”

“You don’t understand Y/n. This shirt was specifically designed for this promo. The choreography, combined with the lyrics, combined with my body is a delicate balance only achieved with this shirt. You’ve gotta help me! Please?”

Y/n looked up at the taller man. “Abs, you put orange juice in my coffee this morning. What makes you think I wanna help you?”

“Um… Because you love me?” Abs encased Y/n between his arms, flexing just a tad. His shoulders still had a workout pump, and he smelled like a new cologne. It made Y/n dizzy. She pushed him away.

“Fine. What’s the matter with it, you dumbass?”

“I spilled orange juice on it.”

Y/n groaned and kicked Abby with her foot.

---

Y/n had to agree, Abby did look good in that shirt. She gazed at the video on her phone, curled up on the couch. She looked at Baby, who was laying next to her.

“Baby, wanna help me prank Abs?”

Baby thought to himself, and lazily replied, “What are you thinking?”

“Not sure yet. I need to get him back for all the ones this week. Something that’ll take him a long time to fix, or just really inconvenient, but nothing harmful.”

“What about wrapping his stuff in gift wrap?”

“Uh, too Christmassy. Replacing his protein powder?”

“No, too boring. Wait, what about a fog machine?”

“Huh?”

“Put a fog machine in the common room and play a fire alarm noise while he’s sleeping.”

“Ooh, maybe. Or put beef bouillon cubes in his showerhead.”

“Ohh, that might be good. Wait, how many pranks do you have to get him back for?”

“Four, not counting the orange juice yesterday. I wanna do a few. Who else might have more ideas?”

Baby shrugged, and then added “Mystery.”

“Great, I’ll ask him.” Y/n hopped off the couch and went to gleefully tell Mystery her plans.

---

“Alright, that should be everything.” Y/n wiped her hands on her jeans and mumbled to herself. “Fog machine’s under the living room table, and beef bouillon in his upstairs shower head. And I’ll put the snappers Mystery gave me under his toilet seat tomorrow.” Y/n tilted her head. “Not sure why he had snappers in his room. Huh. Oh well,” Y/n shrugged and began taking out ingredients for dinner. Baby had requested chicken curry, and who was she to deny her nonchalant partner in crime? Besides, curry sounded pretty good.

Y/n was a bundle of nerves during dinner, so much so that Jinu asked her if she was okay.

“Yeah, I’m fine! Just uh– had too much sugar earlier?”

“Oh? What’d you have?”

“Uh, Baby brought back ice cream. But we ate it all.”

“Aw, damn it Y/n. You know how much I love ice cream.” Abby pouted at you from across the table.

“Yeah well. Tough shit Abby.”

Jinu raised an eyebrow at your tone. “What did he do?”

“Put fucking orange juice in my coffee like a little kid.”

Jinu laughed easily. “You can’t hold it against him, Y/n. It’ll only lead to more pranks in the future.”

“I can and I will,” Y/n grumbled under her breath. She perked up when Abby finally scooted his chair back.

“As much fun as this dinner has been– which, thank you, Y/n– I’m gonna shower now. Don’t miss me too much,” he winked at Y/n who glowered back, and sauntered upstairs.

“Don’t peek!”

Y/n waited for what felt like hours. The rest of the boys finished up their dinner and sat chatting at the table, but she couldn’t get her mind in the conversation. If only Abby would hurry up and get in the shower. Y/n stared at the clock mounted on the wall, and watched as the minute hand slowly moved until it was pointing the opposite direction.

“Y/NN!!!”

Y/n jolted, and grinned. Everyone turned their head to the top of the staircase, where Abby came lumbering down in a stained towel.

“Y/n! What the hell did you do to my shower?”

Y/n put on her best innocent face. “What do you mean, Abby? I haven’t done anything.” That you didn’t deserve, she added mentally.

“No, no, no, I know it was you,” he pointed an accusatory finger in her face. Y/n struggled to keep her face straight. “I smell savory!”

Jinu leaned his head forward for a sniff, but Romance, who was right next to Abby, commented, “I know, we can smell it. What did you do, bathe in beef stew?”

Abby’s brow twitched and he whirled back to Y/n. “Y/n, I know it was you. What did you do?”

“Like I said, Abs. Nothing,” and Y/n leaned back in her chair. Wow, that smell is overpowering.

Abby groaned and stomped upstairs, whisking his beef bouillon stained bath towel behind him. Romance and Jinu were howling at his plight. Upstairs, they could hear Abby shouting and clanking around, turning the faucet on and off repeatedly. Each sound they heard brought a new wave of laughter until Jinu and Romance were holding their sides and sliding off their chairs from the excitement. Y/n buried her head in her arms and shook in hysterics.

---

That night, Y/n shot a text to everyone except Abby to let them know the plan. At exactly midnight, she tiptoed outside Abby’s room and placed the speaker, and then made her way to the living room to wait behind the sofa with Romance, who would be recording. Baby, Jinu, and Mystery would be watching from the upstairs hall. Romance started the fog machine. After a few minutes, Y/n set the speaker to full volume, and played the fire alarm. She immediately threw her hands to her ears. Even muffled, the sound hurt her head. Abby must have had a heart attack.

Right on cue, she heard the sound of a door slamming open, and Abby’s yelling.

“HOLY SHIT!!!” A spew of curses and yells could be heard over the alarm, and shortly after Abby appeared at the top of the stairs in nothing but some very short shorts and socks. Y/n rolled her eyes at his apparel, but quickly found more to judge as Abby scrambled down the stairs and landed on his ass, not even taking the time to get back up. Instead, he scrambled to the kitchen sink and yanked a large 5 gallon bucket out, trying to fill it in the sink. When he couldn’t fit it, he raced back upstairs. Minutes later, he emerged again and threw the 5 gallons of beef bouillon scented water onto the sofa, where the smoke was thickest. Y/n and Romance screamed.

“Abby!!” Romance sputtered. Abby held up the empty bucket in confusion as Y/n paused the siren. Abby looked around at the sudden empty noise. “Huh, I guess it turned off.”

“I turned it off,” Y/n spat, trying to clear the water from her mouth. “I had it playing on a speaker.”

“What?” Abby looked around, seeing the fog machine slowly churning less and less fog. “Hey,” he started angrily, “What makes you think you can wake a person up like this? I thought we were in serious danger!”

Y/n scoffed. “Oh so it’s only a problem when I do it? How about when you pretended you were gonna suck my soul out last Thursday? I thought I was gonna die!”

“God, Y/n, I would never suck your soul. How fucking morbid is that? It was an act!”

“Well it was pretty damn convincing! You can’t rag on me for a scary prank when you’re just as bad!”

“That’s rich! How about when you threw food at me during a promo? That could’ve cost us our reputation!”

“But it didn’t, and now your fans like you more than ever because you stripped after getting only a little bit of food on your shirt. If we’re talking business, then how about when you put all my content notes in jello? That was weeks of ideas and memos I couldn’t recover!”

Jinu made his way between them just in time. Placing his hands out between the two of them, he tried to tone down the situation. “No, enough. Both of you have been at this for weeks, and frankly, it’s getting exhausting.”

“But he’s been–!”

“No, she’s being–!”

“Stop!” Jinu raised his voice and the two quieted quickly. “The two of you need to chill out. Seriously, you’ve been escalating these pranks for a bit. No longer. We can’t afford a prank bigger than this one. Apologize.”

“Huh?!” The two pranksters yelled in unison.

“And clean up the mess.”

“But it wasn’t my prank–!”

“Think of it as forced bonding time. And you’ve done messier things, Abby. This is also payback for me having to clean those up.”

Abby visibly wilted. Taking the empty bucket, he scowled at Y/n. “Help me with the shower first.”

Y/n rolled her eyes. “Fine.”

---

“I really hated when you ruined all my clothes. That’s a lot of my money that you wasted.” Y/n grumbled while towelling down the couch. She sighed. The fabric might be ruined by the water.

“You wasted a lot of money anyway, paying for stuff like a fog machine. Besides, you embarrassed me in front of my fans, like, several times. That was pretty shitty, Y/n.”

“I didn’t mean to actually embarrass you or mess up your promos. Well, I did, but–”

“Dude! This is my career you’re fucking with! That’s not cool!”

Y/n flung a hand out in consternation. “How are you blaming me when you’re the one that fucked with my work first? You deleted my notes, fucked with my memos, oh and lets not forget how you kept cracking weird jokes to that soda brand rep. They were so inappropriate, and he thought that I was a whore!!”

“What?” Abby swiveled his head around.

“Yeah, Abby, those stupid jokes you made in that meeting were super fucked. I was getting weird looks the entire time, AND it singlehandedly ruined our chances to be sponsored by them. How the fuck did you not notice? Were you too busy trying to make me look bad? You definitely succeeded–”

“I wasn’t trying to make you look bad, just messing around!”

“You messed too far!”

“So did you! Multiple of our promos were messed up–”

“Oh please, name one.”

“ – and you keep saying the fans love it anyway–”

“They love you more, dammit!”

“No they don’t! Or– fuck, sure, yeah the fans do, but reps don’t! Haven’t you noticed the companies that have been pulling sponsorships because of our image right now?”

Y/n paused. Shit, Abby was right. She’d only noticed the new, sketchier, edgier companies aligning themselves online with the Saja Boys, and thought nothing of the companies who were silently pulling away.

“Fuck,” she sunk down onto the couch, grimacing at the still-wet feel. Abby ran his hand through his hair.

“How do we fix it?” She glanced at Abby. He sat down beside her.

“Truce?”

“We both did fucked-up shit.”

“I know.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have ruined your clothes. Or made those comments at the meeting. I didn’t mean for them to come across that way.”

“I’m sorry I messed up your promos. That was shitty of me.”

“Yeah, it was.” Abby got up, and looked at the couch. “How do we fix it?”

“I guess we try to fix our online image, maybe release some wholesome content, set up another sponsorship meeting…”

“You’re right, but I meant the couch.”

Y/n looked at Abby and burst out laughing. “Abs, your ass is wet. Did you piss yourself?”

Abby glared. “How. Do. We. Fix it.”

“The couch or your pants?”

Abby grabbed a wet pillow and hurled it onto Y/n’s laughing face. As it slid slowly to her lap, he could see her expression had changed. She was grinning still, but her eyes had a murderous gleam.

“Oh, man, fuck you.”

---

The morning after, the sun beamed brighter through the windows of the Saja Boys’ penthouse. It kissed the fingertips of two sleepy adults, one demon and one human, snuggled together on a damp couch, ruined with water stains. The sun wended its way along the sky, enveloping the pair in a full embrace, and slowly drying their unusual choice of bed. There were no other remains from the war that had been going on.

Blinking the sleep from his eyes, Jinu halted at the sight that greeted him, and smiled softly.

I guess it worked.

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closehereyes · 3 days ago

Text

Chemistry in Choreo—A.1

3.0k words; Abby Saja x Huntrix! Reader Part 1 of 2 Others in the series | A: 1. 2. B: 1. 2. Masterlist | Requests open!

In which you didn't mean to keep finding yourself in this situation with your enemy—dancing with a demon, but . . . you can't help but come back.

A/N: Heyo, first post! Idk, but I just feel like if all the Saja Boys had a role, then Abby would be the choreographer. I'm still trying to get into the swing of things and a feel for the characters, but, uh . . . Hope you enjoy?

You didn’t even understand how you got here.

Not ‘here,’ literally, you meant ‘to this point in time,’ time being in the midst of a dance with a stranger. Not a stranger; your natural enemy. Your antithesis, the fire to your ice.

A demon.

A demon, acting civil with a demon hunter. How ironic, right? Dancing of all things. Slipping into the late hours of night, crossing lines in the sand they both knew would be a nightmare to confront literally. They didn’t talk much; not at first, anyway. The music spoke for them (a good dance told its own conversations).

You didn’t know how you got here.

That was a lie; yes you did.

Because you brought him here; a studio off a corner where he first debuted. You couldn’t help it. Curious eyes reluctantly found themselves observing that dance for that stupidly catchy song. Your gaze dragged to a monitor that displayed the performance of your friends’ rivals. Your lips pursed when you focused on one pink-dyed head of hair, his smug smirk, but most of all, the way he moved.

There was something about it, you were sure. It was more than just the confidence in his physique; it was a love for the art. It was the smoothness that masked his true power like a sheet, it was the energy he exuded, it was the way the dance moved him instead of the other way around.

Not to say the others weren’t talented dancers, just . . . he was an artist of it, and he treated dance like a medium rather than just a performance, just something he had to do before the spotlight was turned to rap, to vocals, to some showy stage effect. Movement was his thing.

You invited him to the studio because you wanted to experience that first hand. As someone who had only ever known dancing, you could appreciate someone who could truly communicate with it. Game recognizes game, and all that.

The actual thing you didn’t understand is why he stayed.

Abby cast a grin at you through the large floor-length mirrors, leaning against the barrier between the pliant wood surface and the small sitting area as he downed some water. “Don’t tell me you’re tapping out already, twinkle toes.”

You scoffed, as if the very implication offended you. “What makes you think that?”

He only offered a shrug, stretching wide as he stepped back onto the floor. You intentionally averted your gaze. “You just seem a little absent, is all.”

“It’s break time.”

“Does break time typically mean you stare at the clock like it owes you rent money?”

You glared at him; He only laughed.

In all honesty, you didn’t realize you were staring at anything in particular. Once you had zoned back in, though, the agitating ticking of the clock in the center of the front wall returned to your ears again. 11:49. “It’s annoying. It has no business ticking that loud,” you huffed, popping a seasoned pretzel past your lips.

Abby appeared next to you, snatching a few twists from your bag. You had stopped caring about his tiny thefts a long time ago. And if you pulled them out during breaks to make him move closer, then who was keeping track? “It makes sense though,” he decided, peering down at her through the corner of his eyes. “It’s a reminder to look at the time in between songs.”

You frowned, gently reaching up to bop his head. His nose scrunched up, his hand grabbing your wrist easily. “So violent with me . . .”

It was hard, ignoring the way your heart jumped when he simply grabbed you, when you could see the cute wrinkles in his nose. A small part wondered if he could feel your pulse thrumming in your wrist. “You can take it.”

He pulled you along to the center of the room again, and your free hand flipped through a playlist of random songs. “You said you know lots of dances, right? Let’s play a game.”

You didn’t even have to look up at him to know his competitive nature had spiked; you could hear it in his voice. Why did you know what that sounded like? “Is it something I can win?”

“You mean, it’s something you can lose,” You grinned anyway. “I’ll play a list of random song clips from a playlist, each having a known choreo paired with it. First person not to know loses.”

Abby seemed content with the rules, though his brow did that mischievous twitch it always did when he was planning something. “And the prize?”

“What could you possibly want?”

He sighed, pacing slowly. “I dunno . . .” he drew out. They both knew he did, in fact, know. “Loser has to wear winner’s merch in public?” Your eyes widened at the suggestion.

“So my girls can murder me?”

“Weren’t you just confident in me losing?”

Your lips pursed, and you weren’t oblivious to the way his own gaze flickered to them. Neither of you commented. When did you ever? “. . . Fine. Loser has to wear a piece of the winner’s merch.”

Abby smirked, straightening himself up as he waited for you to finish your music. “It has to be visible, too, it can’t be, like, a sock or something—”

“Yeah, yeah, I expected as much,” you sighed, jogging to put your phone down. Once you were back by his side, waiting for the music to start, you couldn’t help but steal a glance at him.

He was already watching.

You tore your gaze away, though isn’t pretending it didn’t happen more awkward than it happening? Or maybe maintaining eye contact was, and perhaps both were just as bad and you shouldn’t have looked anyway, possibly you were overthinking it, and—

And the music started, and for another few moments, muscle memory kicked in, and you didn’t have to think.

It was easy to dance. Both of you found it that way. Whether it be the sharp, precise movements that demanded control of the body and coiled muscles to seamlessly smooth motions, it meant more than second nature to them.

There was something so satisfying about moving in sync with someone; to see their reflections in the mirror flowing languidly into the same moves, or even putting their own spins on existing ones.

At its core, dancing with him was a break. After a long, long time of dancing for inspiration, to do something new, to make something interesting for viewers . . . they were dancing for fun. For admiration of different styles. For that little part of them that said, ah, why didn’t I think of that? That part that wanted to delve into the choreos of other songs but couldn’t find the time or the place.

Not for a crowd, but for the love of it.

Was it even a competition anymore?

Was it ever?

It started off as a simple challenge, but now as they slipped into a dance that demanded two figures, as they spun around each other, as he was near dipping her with that damned smile—not a smirk, not a smug grin, but a beam and warm eyes to match—it didn’t feel like it.

The way they touched could hardly be considered competition.

You were forced out of your thoughts with the sound of a blaring ring cutting through the music, Abby steadying you by the shoulders when you almost slipped. You couldn’t help it, you swore, the warmth of his hands lingering a little while as you ran to pick up your phone.

“Miraaaaa . . . hey, girly. Kind of late . . .”

“Yeah, it is kind of late. It’s half past midnight, (Y/N), where are you?” You winced as you heard the worried accuse in her voice, pulling the aux from her phone to pull it up to her ear.

“. . . I’m at the studio.”

That wasn’t a lie. “Is Rumi with you? She’s not here, either,” you blinked, glancing at Abby. He already knew where the conversation was going, dragging himself along to get his stuff.

“Uh, no, it’s just me.”

That was a lie.

Mira audibly sighed, and it made you feel guilty. Everyone was stressed with the Idol Awards coming up. It was their last chance to fix all the damage Gwi-Ma was doing to the Honmoon. Their song had to be perfect, but . . .

For fixing the Honmoon, something that should be about healing the world and saving lives, a hateful song like Takedown seemed a bit . . .

Unfitting. She couldn’t recite those lyrics and honestly believe in them. Not when the more nights she spent on this dance floor, with him, seemed to prove the very concept wrong.

At the same time, they needed a new song.

“You’ve been gone the last few days.”

She watched Abby’s back as he helped pick up her things, too. “I’ve been at the studio.”

“Why? I know you’re feeling the stress too, but . . . It’s late, (N/n). Overworking yourself to try and come up with something for the Awards isn’t going to help. You need rest.”

If only she knew that she wasn’t working at all.

“I know, Mira . . .” You sat to shut down all the speakers, fingers brushing the wall to turn out the lights in the music corner. “I’ll be home in twenty.”

“. . . We’re a team. We’ll figure this out together. Don’t shun us out, alright? We can talk when you get back, if you want,” Mira suggested. You only hummed.

“See you soon, Mira.”

Click.

Tick, tick, tick.

Your eyes slowly drifted back to Abby, who was watching you by the door. Neither of you knew what to say. He offered your bag to you, and you walked over to take it from him. “Thanks.”

You grudgingly rustled around in it to find the keys to the studio, nodding at the door. He only took in your muted motions.

“. . . Will I see you again?”

You looked up. It wasn’t a question that typically had to be asked, not since the first time. Then, a goodbye meant listing a time and another suitable date, and now it came to be ‘goodnight’ or ‘see you soon.’

Meeting Abby every night . . . it meant betraying your friends. It wasn’t a matter of changing sides, though, it was walking the line where the two sides met. Still, both of them knew that one day, it would be you or him.

That day was fast approaching.

Everything about them, from the inception of this arrangement they had, was a bad idea. They were meant to kill each other. They were each other’s antithesis. Fire and ice. Polar opposites.

Two sides of the same coin. Two halves of the same world a human wouldn’t understand. And still, neither could exist without the other.

The dichotomy of their lives.

And still . . .

“Could you meet me here at seven instead?”

Abby blinked. Then, he slowly smiled. An earlier time. “I won’t be late.”

And with that, Abby was walking down the street again, just a hooded figure who knew to slip into the shadows too well, going back to where he came. Was it a shared penthouse? A dorm? Did he have to go back to hell until it was morning again, or was he granted the luxury of staying on the surface as long as he obeyed Gwi-Ma’s orders?

You brushed off the thoughts as you finished locking up the studio, not allowing yourself to think of such things. In this place, they weren’t demon and hunter. Just Abby and you.

Tick, tick, tick.

» ⊱◈⊰

“Promise me you won’t react irrationally.”

“The fact that you even have to say that . . .”

Of your three friends in Huntrix, you were definitely closest to Mira. Don’t get it wrong, Zoey was a ray of sunshine and easily the most relatable, and you wouldn’t even be a group without Rumi. But Mira . . .

Mira would never tell you anything but the truth. She was honest. Blunt. Really, it kind of stung sometimes. But she’d always be there to help you sort it out. And in moments where you didn’t want the upbeat words of Zoey to soften a blow or Rumi’s tendency to keep people at an arms’ length, your co-choreographer was your go-to.

Which is why you were sitting on your bed, trying to find the right words for the woman over a cup of instant-ramen as she waited semi-impatiently in front of you.

Your food lay untouched, and instead you played with a pen, deconstructing and reconstructing it. You couldn’t help but fidget; who wouldn’t be a little nervous under Mira’s scrutinizing gaze?

How were you even going to put this? It sounded kind of silly when you thought about it. Mira would not laugh. Was she just supposed to say, ‘oh, yeah, I’ve been sneaking out to hangout but more specifically dance with a DEMON? You know, exactly what we’re trained to kill, no biggie.’

What would Mira do? With trying to make Takedown work and the way demons were infiltrating the Honmoon, and with Rumi’s voice—

“Honestly, (N/n), just rip the bandaid off. It can’t be that bad.”

“I’ve been sneaking out to dance with Abby.” You blurted. Mira visibly blanked. The stuffed animals on your shelf watched judgingly.

“. . . Put it back on.”

Silence. Let it register. One moment, two moments—

“(Y/N), WHAT-?!”

You put your cup on your nightstand by your phone, immediately moving to try and calm Mira down—the girl had shot up in her disbelief. “Okay, so I know it sounds bad—”

“‘Bad’—?! That doesn’t even begin to cover this,” Mira scoffed, her hands pressing into her head. “Bad is Rumi losing her voice! This is—”

“Catastrophic,” You cut off, putting your hands on Mira’s shoulders. She shrugged them off, and you let her. “Listen, Mira, I have a problem—”

“Clearly!”

“—And I’m trying to solve it. But I need help,” You finished, trying to make the girl meet her eyes. When she finally did, you almost recoiled at the sharpness.

“There’s an easy solution to this, it’s cut him off,” Mira emphasized her words, turning around to take deep breaths. One, two. “He could hurt you! Gosh, (Y/n), how did this even happen?”

“No, before I tell you, I’m not, he’s not—” You struggled, wrapping your arms around yourself. “He’s . . .”

“A demon.”

“He’s a dancer, Mira.” The words were resigned as you sighed, turning towards your window. You could taste the brow raise. “Not just any dancer, like . . . artist dancer.”

Her eyes narrowed at the weak explanation, massaging her temples. “Is that your strongest argument? Do you know how dumb that sounds? (Y/n), he eats human souls.”

“With what time?”

“Okay, fine, but he works for someone who does,” steady footsteps crossed your bedroom, stopping to stare at the window, too. Where the soft golden light of your lamp didn’t reach, where you could see the half-asleep city of Seoul. Where if you stared hard enough, you could see the angry tears in the Honmoon. “Our job is to protect the world, (Y/n). It’s not just some silly game.”

“I know.” You felt a hand on your shoulder, but . . . you couldn’t bring yourself to look at her.

“Then how did this happen?”

Flickering city-lights, clouds that appear closer than they were. The damaged Honmoon. You knew what it was all for . . . the holes got bigger by the day.

You were selfish. You had been ever since you extended that olive branch.

Slowly, an explanation spilled out of you. It filled the air between the two of you in reluctant wisps, disappearing into the darkness without interaction. “I couldn’t . . . It was a bad idea. I . . . you know, he was interesting. Still is. There’s just something in the way he moves. It’s intentional, he just . . . means it. Full of heart. I don’t regret it.”

“And if he’s tricking you? And if he’s manipulating you? (Y/n), he’s not some oblivious bystander, it will come down to you or him! And when you hesitate and he doesn’t, what then?!” Mira snapped.

“He wouldn’t do that, Mira-!” You hissed, turning your gaze from the cityline. Was it anger that filled you? Was she right? How could you even be sure that he wouldn’t . . . that a few weeks of pretending could change the outcome of their stances?

“How do you know? Heart or not, demons have no soul. They gave it up for Gwi-Ma. They’re evil, you can’t change his nature, (Y/n)!”

“It’s not a matter of changing anything! It’s . . .”

“It’s what?” She leaned back, the briskness of her movements cutting through your will to fight.

“It’s giving him the chance to be something more,” you finished. Her eyes bore into you for a few moments, but you couldn’t bear to look at her. “Look, I’m not saying demons aren’t . . . bad, but . . . weren’t they human once, too? And still, they are living things. They made a mistake, a selfish, horrible one. They’re not all redeemable. Then again, neither are all humans. If he didn’t have some shred of humanity, he wouldn’t have accepted my offer.”

Mira rolled her eyes. “You think you can fix him?”

“No. Just giving him the chance to fix himself.”

She scoffed, shaking her head. It wasn’t so bitter this time, maybe disbelieving, maybe disappointed. Maybe that was worse. “Heart or not, demons have no soul. There’s nothing to save.”

Your jaw clenched as you pivoted to lean against the window. The coolness of the glass easily permeated your soft hoodie. “You don’t get it.”

“I don’t want to.” Mira moved towards the door, no longer caring to keep her gait gentle. You could only watch.

“I’m not going to stop looking for a way out.”

“There is no way out. Not with this,” Her hand lingered on the handle, hesitance keeping her from crossing the stronghold back into the hallway. “I hope you come to your senses before it’s too late.”

Then, without another word, she was gone, and you were alone in your room again.

Wondering if . . . maybe Mira was right.

» ⊱◈⊰

A/N: Heyyy so that's the first part of Chemistry in Choreo! Hope you liked it. I had fun writing it, but if I changed anything I would add more Abby content. That's why there's a part two, though. Honestly, I was thinking about making a little universe for it once the main one-shots were done? Because I have a few other ideas about this specific timeline, I might make drabbles or headcanons for it. We'll see how I feel about the next part. Alright, byeeee <3

—Captain Morii 🌤️

#THIS SERIES WAS SO GOOD AHHHHHHH #AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH #AHHHHHHHHHHHH

85 notes · View notes

closehereyes · 3 days ago

Note

Hiii Capt. Morii!!~~~🫶🏻

I just finished reading your recent update and I kinda want to request.

I'd like to request Baby saja being a total baby or being babied by the reader☺️

Saja Boys being babied by the reader (and liking it)

(Babied like being spoiled and just showered with extra affection)

Thank youuuuu

And also, I would like to purchase a ticket for Morii's Business Class🥰

Spoiled Sajas—

1.6k words; Saja Boys x Affectionate! Reader Masterlist | Requests open!

You know what? Being an idol and a demon at the same time is tough. They deserve to be loved on for their troubles.

A/N: Hiii thank you so much for requesting!! I had fun brainstorming this one, and I hope it meets your expectations. Welcome to my business class, and the way you asked for that is so cute btw. Happy reading!!

Jinu—

He didn’t want to outright say it.

Mainly because he didn’t know how to.

You were a surprise at first; someone who always greeted with hugs, those real ones, the ones that linger for a moment so that your warmth is shared briefly before pulling away to say hi. Someone who didn’t just hold hands but wove them together—someone who didn’t mind touch.

Then came the little ways you took care of him.

Making his tea just right without being told, simply from watching. Making little origami pieces and folding notes inside of them, reminding him that he was doing good. The gentle way your hand would brush his hair as you removed a stray string.

At first, he didn’t know how to feel about it. He would stiffen whenever you were in his general vicinity, flinch when your hand brushed his arm as you passed him. It’s not like he wasn’t used to touch, just that . . .

Well, he hadn’t experienced such an affectionate type in a long, long time.

Eventually you stopped, though, which was bad for him because now he craved it, and he didn’t know how to ask.

It started with small things, you noticed.

A little nudge in passing, sitting next to you while Derpy’s head rested in your lap. A not-so-casual glance when your fingers brushed while you pet her, and then he’d snatch it away as if it physically burned him.

You found it amusing.

“Jinuuuu,” you tried to hide a laugh, and slowly his head turned to face you. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” he brushed off, curling further into himself. You reached over to poke his cheek and he jumped a little—until your hand gently rested against it.

Then he froze, not knowing what to do.

“You can just say it, you know,” you chuffed, pulling his head into you. He stifled a noise, his cheeks turning red.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about—!” Jinu stuttered, short-circuiting as you pulled his hand into your lap, gently rubbing your thumb over his knuckles.

You laughed at him, of course you did. How could you not?

“You’re cute.”

Jinu only mumbled something, pressing further into you.

Maybe he liked being cute.

Abby—

It didn’t take a genius to figure out Abby was eating your affection UP. He lived for the way you’d wrap your arm around his, hug him tightly, straighten out his shirts (even if they were so tight they’d probably wrinkle up again).

“Your hands are a little rough,” you’d say and he happily stuck them out to be moisturized by you. He relished in the vanilla cupcake scent and warmth that remained, and generally being able to watch you care.

“You look kind of tense,” you’d notice, and he’d slump into the base of your palms as you massaged the knots out of his shoulders.

Or maybe you’d say nothing and just sneak up behind him, snaking your arms around his torso and pressing your head into his shoulder. Those times, he could feel the strength leaving his knees, and he’d only settle his hands over yours.

You were an angel.

He didn’t even need to ask, Abby had no problem initiating first.

Abby gently pulled you into his lap, grinning when you didn’t even hesitate. His arms settled nicely around your waist, pulling you further into him as you looked up at him.

“Hi, Abby,” you cooed, and he beamed.

“Hi, (Y/N),” he mirrored quietly, pressing his face into your head.

Your fingers carded through his hair, a satisfied hum escaping from his chest as he closed his eyes. His own hands traced your spine slightly.

Abby’s head tilted further into your hands, following the movement of your fingers. “Can you go to the left . . . okay, no, back to the right, back, back . . .”

“So demanding,” you accused, though your hands immediately followed the directions anyway. You could feel the relaxed sigh he let out.

Abby didn’t know how he had gotten ahold of something so sweet, but he’d never take it for granted.

Mystery—

Honestly? Mystery was living the life.

It was just him. The couch. You, and all of your tender little touches.

He was no better than any dog, really.

Begging for your attention openly, and, to be fair, he got it. No extra expense. The way your thumbs brushed his cheeks and your head against his was what he lived for. Mystery was not ashamed of the lengths he would go to obtain your affections.

Mystery was all for it. If he had a tail, it’d be generating wind with how fast it wagged. But he could get more out of it, he knew it.

He tilted his head just slightly; not enough to break any of your contact, just into your palm. His hair shifted, revealing those golden eyes of his. Soft, and staring at you? Puppy eyes?

Super effective. KO. You crumpled on the spot.

“Ohoho, honey,” you awed, and he KNEW he won. “You’re so precious, such a pretty boy . . .”

And he only milked it more, pressing his face further into your hand, making that little whine. A strangled noise escaped you at his cuteness, and you pulled him further into your body.

“You’re killing me, here,” you pinched his cheek lightly, just between your fingers. “How can one thing be so lovely?”

He didn’t know. Mystery asked the same question when being handled by you.

Romance—

When Romance had figured you gave affection out like rich neighborhoods gave king sizes on Halloween, he could have jumped for joy. He did, actually.

Because what do you mean you make sure he’s drunk enough water? You cook?? For him??

He didn’t need it, he’d always do what was necessary to stay in tip-top diva shape, but . . . boy did he want it.

“It was TERRIBLE, oh, a tragedy-!” Romance dramatized, throwing himself to the floor at your feet like a miserable princess. You giggled at his display, pushing your legs up a little to pull him closer. “You’re laughing? I’m suffering, and you’re laughing??”

“You could have had an excellent career in melodrama,” you muttered, ignoring the pout forming on his cheeks. His chin pressed gently into your knees as he looked up at you.

“Well . . . I am a performer, close enough, darling.”

“Touché, I suppose,” your lips twinged up, fingers finding his scalp. Gently playing with it became braiding his hair. “Stay still.”

“You’re going to mess it up,” he complained, but you both knew he wouldn’t move away. You only continued braiding, tilting his head up to look at you so you could do one by his part. “Who said you could be so pretty, huh?”

“It’s a curse,” he easily muttered, his eyes fluttering shut on your knees. You pulled him up, and Romance had no problem crossing over your lap.

“You’re such a princess,” you teased, pressing a kiss to his eyelids. He immediately flustered, a delighted smile crossing his face.

“A compliment. Now hold me tighter.”

Baby—

It had taken Baby a minute before he adjusted to affection the way you gave it. But when he did, he was never going back.

Baby didn’t really ever say what he meant. Oftentimes, you had to figure that out for yourself, in the other little ways he asked.

The other, little, vaguely annoying ways he asked.

It could be stacking his legs on top of yours on the couch. Taking your hand when he’d decided you’d given enough attention to what you were doing, no matter what it was. Ignoring your advice because he’d know you’d fix it for him, anyway.

“Did you get enough sleep? You look a little tired,” you muttered, brushing just under his eyes. Maybe that was intentional, because the next night you’d cuddle with him until he fell asleep.

“When was the last time you had actual food?”

“Stop leaving your phone on the charger all night, it’s bad for the battery, Baby.”

God, he loved how you said it with that sweet lilt, like it was both a petname and his name.

Currently, it was invading your personal space without a care. You were standing over the sink and he was looming over your shoulder, not even saying anything as you did the dishes. You kissed his cheek, and still he didn’t let up. Occasionally you’d glance at him. “What?”

He only shrugged, his hands in the pockets of his hoodie. What’s it take for a guy to get some attention around here?

“Nothing.” You knew what he wanted.

Baby watched you roll your eyes with exasperated amusement, standing up to kiss his other cheek. Finally, he leaned back, half-satisfied. “So needy,” you lovingly huffed, finishing up. “You’d think I neglected you or something.”

“You do,” he fussed, but you could see the playfulness in his eyes. “Why are you doing dishes? Especially when you could be hanging out with me. The nerve.”

"Brat."

Finally you pulled him by the wrist to his room. He grinned triumphantly, watching as you shook your head exasperatedly.

Even so, you curled up with him, drawing patterns into his nape as he searched for something to watch. Though, he couldn’t really focus on it; he was more intent on the weight of your head on his shoulder, the way your legs tangled with his.

“You’re name suits you,” you finally said, feeling his head press further into your neck. “But you’re my Baby.”

Yeah. You were his, too.

» ⊱◈⊰

A/N: Okay another request done!! I hope you liked it! I enjoyed doing this one, and I feel like the Sajas are definitely all touch-starved. Okay, see you soon! <33

—Captain Morii 🌤️

Morii's Business Class: @abby-himbo-truther @kpopmultistans @momentomoribitch

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closehereyes · 4 days ago

Note

ahhhh thank you for writing such beautiful work...

baby when the reader gets pissed at him for saying something mean during a fight, so she ignores him? AND not only ignores him but chooses to spend an abnormal amount of time with Jinu/any other (Jinu cause the tiger and the bird) saja boy to rant about how obnoxious baby is and stubbornly refuses to interact with baby? and baby just going nuts because what do you mean he's getting ignored? (and maybe abby and romance trying to help him figure out why reader is pissed and get him to swallow his pride and apolgize?)

Answer: Oh my- I actually had fun exploring this dynamic ngl khahaha! You my dear readershi are also gettin' a renewed author (la mOi, obviously) who is more confident in my vers of the boyz. Gotta thank all the support (my beloved anons/ askers, taggers ( I see you @sleepylion ! ), commenters and even those who are silent enjoyers ) who showed support on stories I was unsure of. sO ! Pls, enjoy~ ( = ⩊ = )

Note. Please ! Do not take anything here seriously. These are my versions of the boyz where I'm tryin' to figure out their character through these prompts and make em react as canon as possible. Nothing in here is aimed at anyone just a faceless MC whose traits are created around the prompt. Arigatou ( _ _)人

📍Requests: Please check HERE

꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦

Baby SAJA: Apology?

Featuring: Baby Saja Reader: female

It was a rainy night. The rain tapped gently against the windows, and dark clouds covered what few stars were ever visible—even on clear nights.

Their studio sat on the highest floor, close to the heavens, yet Jinu could rarely see more than two faint stars, even on a good day.

The only “stars” around were the distant lights from neighbouring buildings, all of them standing a few floors lower than the building their company had chosen for them.

It always reminded Jinu of a story Mystery had once told him—something about humans trying to build a spiralling tower to reach the heavens, only to be cursed by the very god they were climbing toward to.

Babilion? Bubilion? Tower of Bebil? He couldn’t remember the name. Never cared to. It was the idea that stuck with him.

Seems like that desire never left them, he always thought. Whether humans realised it or not, they always craved more.

Speaking of humans and their insatiable wants—

"Can you believe that smug—ugh!"

Jinu turned slowly from his desk to face you. You were pacing his room, eyebrows furrowed, hands flailing like you were about to strangle someone.

He let out a soft sigh and dropped the pen in his hand, casually covering the card he’d been working on. A loud, pink bird with spindly legs danced beneath the text Let’s Get Flocked Up!!—whatever that meant. It looked like a poorly drawn phoenix in his opinion.

He’d ask the phone to identify the bird, but for some reason you decided he was good for whatever conversation you were trying to have with him.

Jinu would shrug your words off and let you talk to yourself in hopes of you having some devine realisation, but he couldn’t risk drawing your attention to what he was writing. That would lead to questions. And Jinu was terrible at dodging questions. Which would only made him more suspicious.

Just thinking about Mystery giving him signs he was beginning to suspect Jinu of something made him wince.

So instead of kicking you out—which would only make things worse—jumping out the window, which wouldn’t solve anything—or trying to change the subject, which your expression made clear you weren’t going to let happen, Jinu gave in.

He dropped his arm over the card and leaned back in his chair, eyes flicking over to you with resigned sigh.

"Alright, I bite. What did you do?" he asked flatly. He didn’t even bother pretending to care.

Where were Romance or Abby when he needed them? What possessed you to bring this kind of thing to him? Not questions he voiced, of course. The carpet was white, and he had no intention of getting blood on it. No, thank you.

That, he quickly realised, was also the wrong question to ask.

You stopped pacing and turned to him slowly, glare sharp enough to make him consider jumping out of the window did actually sounded quiet helpful for this situation.

If human looks could kill demons, Jinu was pretty sure he’d be dead already. Moments like these reminded him why he appreciated your honmoon wave being bright crimson for more than easy snack. At least it didn't tried burning him while you were clearly distress.

And under all that curled one single feeling that most demon's would salivate at.

Hurt.

Funny, he thought dryly, how wrath is just crushed expectation throwing a tantrum.

You pointed at yourself, incredulous. “Me?” you repeated. “Me?! What I did—? I didn’t do anything!” you shouted, and Jinu winced, pressing his hand to his left ear.

You were off again, pacing as your frustration and sadness poured out.

“It’s him who can’t see past himself! He can’t shut up long enough to listen or—or understand that what he says hurts!”

Your voice cracked as your frustration pushed through. “It’s like I don’t even exist to him. Like I’m just… here. I expect something. Anything to show I’m not the only one who cares in this relationship!”

Your eyes were starting to glaze over. The shine of unshed tears formed as your honmoon line pulsed with that bitter sadness Jinu hated to taste but his body craved anyway.

Too bad he already ate tonight. No excuse to feed off you now.

Which meant, unfortunately, he had to listen.

He sighed again, bracing himself, and opened his mouth—fully prepared to be the voice of reason you’d ignore anyway, in the hope that maybe, just maybe, you’d use your last brain cell to hear what he had to say.

"Alright," he said calmly, his voice instantly drawing your attention. You stopped pacing, staring at him with that same look—expecting something. Jinu had to stop himself from shaking his head.

Expectations, were formed around the false believes one had about themself, fueled by the fear of unknown, they only built blueprints for reactions, and always ended in disappointment. Humans never learn, he thought with a quiet sigh. Funny how becoming a demon gave him the clarity to spot flaws he never noticed as a human—flaws now repeating in front of him like clockwork.

It was as if the behaviour had been coded into the human DNA.

No matter. Lifting his head—which he hadn’t realised had dipped—Jinu met your eyes. You’d calmed enough to sit on the edge of his bed, your attention fixed solely on him.

"I mean, this might sound crazy," Jinu began, his tone light as he straightened up, rolling his shoulders. "But did you consider—just maybe—that Baby is a demon?" His hands gestured to you like he was making a groundbreaking point, his face marked by exaggerated innocence.

The sound of Tiger rising from where he’d been lying beside the bed draw both yours and his attention to the spirit—giving you a pause from the conversation as the two of you watched it quietly prowling over to you with steady steps.

Its amber eyes didn’t blink as he stared at you—curious, and clearly reading the cocktail of emotion your body radiated. That, and shielding Jinu from your honmoon wave to give him a moment to breathe.

Magpie, on the other hand, looked wholly unimpressed. It blinked slowly between the two of you, flicking its head toward Jinu as if to say, Want a shovel to dig your grave deeper?

Jinu would have a full blown conversation with that ungrateful chicken if his attention wasn't stolen by your following words.

"Yeah, and?" you replied flatly, starting to pat Tiger without looking at Jinu. The spirit stood still, purring faintly, though it didn’t break his stare.

It was a stupid question. Jinu was going to say that aloud—but thankfully your voice cut through before he could.

"You're also a demon, and you're showing a clear interest in Rumi-nim." You met his eyes with a deadpan stare that made his spine tighten. His gaze flicked, involuntarily, toward the greeting card on the desk. Don’t look at it, don’t look at it, don’t look at it!

"I—I mean, as a fellow idol, it’s natural to be... cordial—"

But again, you cut him off, turning away as you focused on Tiger. Jinu stiffened, eyes falling on Magpie who continued preening its feathers with Tiger’s stolen hat, completely ignoring his discomfort.

"As a 'fellow idol', you owe her polite interactions and the occasional mention on your lives," you said, eyes locking with his again. "You’re doing more than that."

Jinu felt cornered. Accused of something he couldn’t explain to you. His brows knit as he leaned forward, elbows on his knees.

"Alright. And if I am—what of it? Doesn’t change how Baby behaves, does it?" His voice was flat.

He regretted it the moment the words left his mouth.

You froze mid-pat, inhaling sharply. Your posture turned rigid—but thankfully, being in contact with Tiger meant you were also being bathed in his calming aura. Instead of shouting or throwing something, you spoke through a strained breath,

"It does. If you can act like Rumi-nim matters, then so can Baby."

Jinu had to resist the urge to groan, roll his eyes, and laugh into his palm. Of course. Of course. That was how you saw it.

You thought he was being “attentive.” You assumed that meant some grand revelation. Maybe you thought his "heart" was changing, that he was maybe starting to think differently about humans.

But no—he was just using Rumi. She was a means to an end: the path to reclaiming his soul from Gwi-ma. If satisfying the Demon King meant playing the role of a human idol—luring in as many souls as possible with the hope that it might make the King more willing to return his one meek, pitiful soul—then so be it.

And yet, just the thought of what Rumi might feel—what her soul line would pulse with if she ever found out—made his hollow chest tighten as he wondered what emotion she'll willingly feed him once she finds out what his real goal was.

It wasn't even a betrayal… it was Rumi's naive nature to trust something with no soul. Just like you with Baby... Rumi had created unrealistic expectations of him too.

Still, none of this was something he could say to you. He couldn’t tell you that he wasn’t any better than Baby.

The fact that you even knew they were demons was already crossing a line. They couldn’t offer you anything more than this simply because it could jeopardize what they have build.

Humans were fickle like that.

With a long, drawn-out sigh, Jinu let his hand settle over his mouth, trying to string together a sentence that would sound coherent enough to explain the situation from Baby's point of view.

Jinu's eyes flicked to you as you continued to pat Tiger, who still stood unmoving at your side. Both spirit animals focused on him—Tiger clearly anticipating the greeting card meant for Rumi, while Magpie looked far too smug for Jinu’s liking.

"How to put it..." Jinu muttered, gesturing for Tiger to come closer. The spirit prowled forward with deliberate slowness, unblinking eyes locked on him. Magpie, in contrast, glided down next to you, probably in some noble attempt to keep your nerves from fraying any further.

You trailed your eyes after Tiger, the stress and fatigue bleeding into your gaze, but then you gently started to trace a finger down Magpie’s spine. Jinu noticed that at least the tightness in your shoulders eased slightly.

“Well, I don’t know exactly what he said,” Jinu admitted as he folded the greeting card, keeping his tone even. “But there’s a high possibility that he just… bluntly said what he though at the time.”

He pressed his lips together. Tiger tilted his massive head to the side, bulbous eyes looking through him, clearly thinking: You're a fool

Not like Jinu needed reminding that he was probably making things worse. But sue him—he didn’t know what you expected him to say.

If he lied, you’d just march back to Baby, and that little bastard would crush all the soft hope Jinu managed to build with some sugary words. So all he could really do was try to soften the truth on Baby’s behalf.

Why can’t she go to Romance or Abby~ he whined internally, rolling his eyes as he turned, greeting card in hand.

With a flick of his wrist, he offered it to Tiger, who obligingly opened his mouth and rolled out his tongue. Jinu placed the folded card atop it with a sigh. No point hiding what you were clearly already aware of. Hopefully, you had some sense to keep it to yourself.

He gave you a sidelong, sceptical look, but it fall off when he caught the quiet way your body had curled in on itself. You were gently stroking Magpie’s feathers, your expression unreadable, but distant.

Jinu exhaled, placing a hand under Tiger’s jaw and gently guiding it shut, patting twice to signal the spirit to deliver the card to the purple-haired huntress. Then he turned back to you with a bit more urgency in his voice.

“Alright then. What do you want Baby to do?”

Maybe—maybe—he could actually get the brat to play along for once, just to calm you down. ...Maybe.

“Apology,” you said flatly, your eyes locking with his, hard as steel.

Jinu blinked.

And then— —he lost it.

He toppled sideways with a choked wheeze, clutching his stomach as laughter wracked his frame. Just the image of Baby apologising was absurd. Utterly beyond imagination.

Handing a cat a Bible and asking it to lead Sunday mass had higher success rate than Baby apologising. The young demon would no doubt look at him like he’d grown three heads before confidently diagnosing him as clinically insane.

As Jinu laughed himself breathless, he didn’t even register Tiger and Magpie slinking away. What he did notice was your now-throbbing honmoon wave, no longer behind the barrier, and radiating frustration.

Honestly, he was just impressed you were still this emotionally attached to the SAJA after what Baby had put you through. Wiping an invisible tear from his eye, Jinu sat up and met your glare head-on.

Arms crossed, expression locked down tight—you were not amused.

“Mind explaining what’s so funny about that?” you asked, voice dangerously calm.

He opened his mouth—and an involuntary snort escaped. Seeing your irritation bubble, he straightened quickly and cleared his throat.

“Well... you see,” he began, in the universal tone of a man about to say something you wouldn’t like.

“Uh-huh,” you prompted flatly.

“Apologising means the person believes they did something wrong,” Jinu continued, choosing his words carefully. “And I can very confidently tell you that Baby—”

- - -

“I don’t even know what I did wrong,” Baby groaned, fisting his hair as he stared down at the dark carpet of his room like it held all the answers to this frustrating and frankly uncalled for situation.

The constant pitter-patter of raindrops against the windows wasn’t helping. It only made Baby’s fingers twitch harder, itching to tear into something that would resist—something he could press against until it ripped.

Irritation, mixed with fury? Check. But only because you, for some incomprehensible reason, had to go and get upset over words. Characters.

Honest to Gwi-ma—invisible, untouchable things that just poured out of someone’s mouth. How could anyone get hurt by that? If you wanted pain, Baby could show you exactly what he did to humans who fought back during his feeding.

And yet... there was bitterness too. A hollow ache clinging under his skin. It made his jaw itch to sink into your honmoon and just roll in it.

He didn’t mind emotions—he wasn’t a picky eater—but fury? That tasted stale. Always just a layer for hurt, and hurt was the sweetly bitter flavour he never turned away from.

But when that hurt was tangled with anger, it tasted like a dessert coated in mould.

And now, with you still inside the apartment—your honmoon wave loud and heavy—it was impossible to ignore. He couldn’t take it anymore. So he dragged the closest brother of his with him to his room: Romance.

As they passed Abby, the other had to be grabbed by Romance by the back of his shirt just like Baby did to him as he could hear Abby curiously ask, “Oh? Where we goin’?”

Now, the two of them were seated on the bed in Baby's room, listening as he explained what had happened—though “explaining” was generous.

More like pacing in circles and hissing between clenched teeth as he began mentally debating whether licking bleach would soothe the sting in his mouth or if petting your honmoon would be more effective albeit risky with the state you were in.

Kicking you out would only make things worse. He knew that much.

His eyes finally left the carpet when Romance let out a long sigh—the kind that sounded straight out of one of Mystery’s dramas, complete with the tone of a tired, exasperated mother. He crossed one leg over the other, that dreamy smile curling over his lips.

“Aah, one has to admire humans for their shameless displays of selfishness.”

Baby shot him a sceptical look, hands finally dropping from his tangled hair. Why didn't I gone to Mystery instead?

Before he could voice the thought, Romance continued, voice light and knowing. “But it’s easy to understand what your human wants, my sweet little junior.”

“Call me that again and I’ll put that vanishing ability of yours to the test—”

“Mm, always so charming,” Romance said, waving him off as he leaned back, supporting himself on his arms. He locked eyes with Baby and smirked. “She’s dissatisfied~ You’re not giving her what she wants. Touches. Attention. Acts that make her feel special.”

He fluttered his lashes dramatically. Baby rolled his eyes, straightened, and arched a brow.

“Not everyone can act like you, shitty senior.”

Romance beamed. “Not as good, but they can try!” he chirped, holding up a finger like he was announcing a divine truth.

Baby exhaled hard, shaking his head. Then both he and Romance looked to Abby, once the other spoke, “If it’s so much hassle, why’d you even bother starting something with her?” Abby tilted his head, expression completely genuine.

They stared and he blinked back at them with the slow confusion of a dog not understanding another creatures speech.

Romance bit his bottom lip, visibly entertained, and reached over to pat Abby on the head. Abby blinked, but let him.

Baby, however, just stared at his so called senior like he’d said the most ridiculous thing in all of world's history.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Baby said dryly, narrowing his eyes. “Maybe because Jinu told me to accept her confession?”

Abby raised a brow while Romance, now fussing with his hair, didn’t even look surprised. Of course he knew. He had a habit of sticking his nose where it didn’t belong—especially the first time Baby had brought you home.

Abby, meanwhile, had just treated you like a living chocolate fountain he could snack on whenever you were around.

“Since when do you listen to anyone?” Abby asked, genuinely baffled.

Romance snorted and sat up proudly with hands on his hips, satisfied with his perfectly fixed hair. “Don’t worry,” he said with a laugh. “Baby didn’t hit his head. He only agreed because Jinu promised he could skip seven shows of his choice.”

That made Abby let out a long, exaggerated “Aaaaaaah!”—right before freezing and clamping his mouth shut. His eyes flicked back to Baby, confused again.

When is he not confused? Baby thought, already bracing himself as Abby opened his mouth to ask another question.

“But that still doesn’t explain… why you’re tolerating it.”

That gave Baby pause. He blinked, caught off-guard. He hadn't expected that level of insight from Abby of all beings.

Romance, on the other hand, didn’t even look surprised. He simply turned his attention from his hair to Baby, eyes glinting with curiosity, waiting, alongside Abby, for his answer.

They looked like those humans from that movie they watched “Dumb and Dumber.” Fantastic.

Baby sighed. Why does it even matter? But he gave a blunt reply anyway.

“Her soul helps suppress my hunger. I figured if I’m being forced to play pretend, I might as well get something out of it.”

He’d noticed it early on—whenever you were near, the gnawing void in his chest dulled slightly, tricking his instincts into thinking it was getting a full meal.

There was also another benefit to this bravado. As long as you didn’t try comforting him with words when Gwi-ma turned his skull into a private arcade, your touch was... grounding.

Of course, none of that was something he’d ever admit to these two jackals. And yet, even with the bare scraps he’d given them, both Romance and Abby were already grinning like they’d cracked some forbidden code. Jackasses.

The look they exchanged told Baby everything: Silence was the only safe option around these two, truly.

Why can’t they be this creative with the mission? he thought, mildly annoyed as his body instinctively tensed. He leaned back, away from Abby, who now wore a smirk that practically screamed bait.

“Well, that makes sense,” Abby drawled, eyes still on Romance as if Baby wasn’t even there. “Baby needs a pacifier during the day to keep calm.”

Romance nodded sagely, finger pressed under his chin like he was seriously contemplating Abby's words rather than suppressing a grin.

“Pacifiers do have the ability to keep Baby's nasty little temper in check, mm?”

At that, Abby flashed his sharp canines with a pointed look, practically daring Baby to lunge.

Baby knew they could’ve easily been referring to that snivelling pile of human meat that never stopped crying—but the words could also be taken another way. One that he knew was the correct one. He could feel his human glamour fading just slightly. Faint demon markings crept along his cheekbones, his own fangs peeking out as his claws dug into his palms.

His lips, darker now with a lack of oxygen, parted as he exhaled. And then he spoke—voice low, gravelly, and deadly calm.

“If I could… without alerting those three bitches to where we are… I’d slash every inch of your body, bit by bit, scatter the pieces across Korea, and watch your head roll around trying to put yourself back together.”

Yet instead of getting the reaction he wanted, Baby watched with half-lidded eyes and an involuntary twitch in his brow as Romance let out a delighted coo. Hands clasped together, the older demon gazed at him as if Baby hadn’t just threatened someone ranked above him. Worse, Romance even went and stretch out his hand, finger aimed at Baby’s nose for a little boop, and chirped, “Cute.”

Baby’s eye twitched.

And to make matters worse, Abby—arms crossed, muscles bulging in that infuriating way he knew was deliberate—wore the smuggest grin as he added in a teasing tone, “Can’t bring yourself to get fully rid of me? You must truly love me. Oh, I can just feel how much you care for me! ” He let out an exaggerated wail, swiping an invisible tear from under one eye and clutching the wrong side of his chest—the side where a heart wouldn’t be, even if he were human.

“Alright then,” Baby growled lowly.

His glamour frayed further as he rolled up his sweater sleeves, a malicious grin cutting across his face. His small tusks peeked from under his top lip, canines gleaming, and purple flames began licking off his skin. The pressure in his skull surged as Gwi-ma stirred, laughing in pure euphoria, egging him on with a hungry rasp: “C̶̛̩͈̋͑̎̽̈́l̵̲̥̫͚̳̞̗͒̊̽͘͝a̷̯͕̲̰̖̟̦͊͝w̵̛̬̱̦̻̟͗̄̄̋͜s̴̢̞̺̮͖͇̽͋̍͆̈́̔̍͂ ̴͉̯͕̹̞͖͈̈́͐̿̓̍̏̾͒t̷̡̢͉̖̠̺̺̝͗͊̐͛͒͠͠h̴̲̼̞̥̲̖͍͒͗͑̽̕r̸̙̘̟͍̺̟̲̱̋͑͒̿̇̒̚ơ̸̬̿̌̍͋́͗ų̴̘̟̤́̓͌̍̓͗g̶̠̝͍͈̼̦͕͐͋̅̋̀̈́h̵̛͇͗̏͋̄̍̈́̕ ̷̬̯̯̲̞̐̔̿̓̍͘͝͠t̵̺̖̩̦̳͖̯̜̉̈́̅̈́̚h̴̰̬͈͚̠̲̋̈́͗̽́͘͠ͅe̵̢͚̞̦̱̘̅͒̾̒̿͛͐͑͜ ̶̢͍̗̖͇̺͌̅͊̽͛͌̚c̶̳̤̞͈̬̩̬̐̄͜h̷̼̜̳͓̦̳̙̤̿͐̓̋͠e̵͖̰̰̲̼͕̅́̑̓͒̚͜s̷̢̢̱͖̠͓̈́̎̐̿͝t̶̛̤̖̬̟̮͌͂͠͝͝—̵̢̥͕̦̤͇̖̘̀̓̓̍̇̀͛̚s̷̘̱̼̋̈́̏͛̏̔͂͘l̴̞̮̱̞̬̩̏̈́o̵̠͎̤̮̥̫̔̈́̇́͝w̶̛̮̼̺͓͚̄̀̆͋͘͝ͅ ̴͇͎͍̖͓̒̅́͊̔͝͝a̴͖͓̰̳̲̞̍̒̎͗͊̕͘͜n̶̩̯͓͛͝d̸̹̮̟̰̺̼͈̏̏̽̾̏̀̕ ̵̻̯̥̞̺̪̙́́͛̑̽͝p̵̬̘̖̳̥̐̈́͊̚̚ͅa̵̢̨͖͇͈̲͐̈́ͅi̸̘̲͎͓͇͐͗̇͋̔̓̍͝n̷̙̟̙̮͑̍̓̿͆̅́ͅf̴̘̯͔̳̺͓͚̐̈́̇́̾͘ū̵̘̬̠͎̫͇̔̿̚l̵̢̢̺͚̜͇̐̽̐̐̎͘ͅ!”

Visions flickered across Baby’s mind, dizzying flashes of how to use abelites he didn't even knew possible—and for a moment, his vision blurred as he shook his head to fight it off.

He barely registered Abby’s widening grin as the older demon cracked his neck, clearly eager for the brawl. But before either of them could move—

They froze.

The air didn’t grow heavy like it did when Mystery was done tolerating their idiocy. No, it grew light. Too light.

Disorientingly so, like a false calm before something sharp breaks through. Baby almost wanted to laugh and flip Gwi-ma the middle finger as he felt his Lord disappear with furies thrashing before leaving Baby's head empty.

Only Romances aura was capable of submerging the demon King. He may not know the real reason, but he has a theory. Unlike the others, Romance never flooded them with his demonic presence like Mystery.

He let it slither—wrap and squeeze. It wasn’t choking—it was holding, threatening to shatter them from the inside if they so much as twitched. Baby felt it keenly in the way his ribs ached and his core pulled taut. And judging by the way Abby’s eyes widened beside him, he felt it too.

It didn’t help that Romance was older than both of them. Which made the subtle restraint feel effortless—unavoidable.

Baby knew, logically, that Romance didn’t have the kind of power that could cancel their regeneration. But it didn’t matter. The illusion—the intoxication—was enough to press every instinct into submission. He let out a slow breath, reluctantly pulling the frayed edges of his human disguise back into place, a silent show of compliance.

Only then did Romance smile wider, bringing his hands together with a gentle clap before easing off. As the pressure lifted, both Baby and Abby exhaled sharply, shoulders loosening.

Their eyes met.

A silent nod passed between them. Later.

If Romance noticed, he chose to ignore it. After all, what came later wouldn’t be his problem. Instead, he steered the conversation back to its original course, locking his brilliant eyes onto Baby’s with a quiet sort of focus.

“So?” Romance asked, folding his hands over his crossed legs. A lock of hair curled against his cheek as he tilted his head, flawless as always, voice soft with curiosity. “What are you planning to do, then?”

Great question. A slow smirk curved across Baby’s lips as he cracked his knuckles.

Now that the banter cooled him down and the storm of your emotions from your wave was drowned out by Abby’s demonic aura—still pulsing faintly from when he’d nearly launched himself at Baby—his head was clearer than it had been in days.

“Easy. Kill ’em.” He said it flatly.

Sure, he’d lose his easy snack. The occasional grounding effect you gave him when Gwi-ma got especially insufferable. Those moments when you simply enjoyed yourself without demanding anything, letting him exist without expectation. Moments when your happiness spread through him, and he did enjoy himself—those would vanish too.

But in return, he’d get back something far more valuable: the freedom to just be himself.

No more forcing conversation. No more awkward attempts to explain things you could’ve asked about without sounding like a guilt-ridden martyr. And that constant, nagging feeling—like you were trying to make him feel bad for you.

How? Baby always wanted to ask. He didn’t feel anything unless you did first. And when you were caught in that swirling mess of insecurity and longing, it made him want nothing more than to rip your soul out and consume it just to silence the white noise in his head.

So yes—pros outweighed the cons. Any day of the week.

And hey, maybe you'd finally find someone who was your actual match.

His words had barely finished leaving his mouth before Abby choked on his saliva, then cackled hysterically—head thrown back, heels of his feet thudding on the floor. Romance winced, pressing a manicured hand to his chest as if personally wounded, eyes flicking to Baby’s deadpan expression.

“Please don’t,” he said, shaking his head. “Your kills are always so... messy.” His nose crinkled as he pulled a face of exaggerated distaste.

Baby crossed his arms and raised a brow at him. “Alright then. What should I do instead?” His tone was bored, but he was listening.

That was all it took. Romance perked up immediately, and just as Abby’s laughter began to taper off, they both blurted out two completely different responses at once:

“Suck ’em dry,” Abby grinned.

“Apologise,” Romance said at the exact same time.

Baby blinked, owlishly at first, then narrowed his eyes with growing scepticism—just as both Romance and Abby snapped their heads towards each other, startled.

For a brief moment, Baby swore the two of them were having a full telepathic conversation. Then, without a word, they nodded in perfect synchrony.

Romance turned back to him, casually, while Baby—still with arms crossed—had leaned down slightly, watching the pair with thinly veiled disbelief, scanning between them for any trace of logic. Naturally, he found none.

Romance shrugged. “Calm her down by apologising. Then devour her. No soul ever tastes good angry.”

Huh. Baby straightened up, expression easing as he nodded slowly. Romance had a point. Even if Baby wasn’t picky, it was common demonic knowledge that rage-flavoured souls only appealed to a rare few with weird palates.

Before he could open his mouth to agree, a soft click broke the moment.

The doorknob to his room twisted, the door creaking open. All three snapped their attention to it, wide-eyed—no doubt looking like startled hares caught in torchlight.

Baby didn’t know who to expect. But it definitely wasn’t Mystery, half-visible behind the slowly opening door.

He blinked. His spine snapped upright as his usually droopy eyes widened into doe-like. Romance, unfazed, lifted a hand in a pleasant wave. Abby grinned like a proud idiot for some reason.

While Baby continued to stare at Mystery as if the man didn’t live under the same roof, it was Romance who broke the silence.

“What are you doing here senior?” he asked, smiling, his tone laced with genuine curiosity.

Mystery stood motionless, one hand still on the doorknob. They couldn’t see his eyes, but Baby had the creeping suspicion the eldest had blinked once before speaking, voice as soft and chilling as ever.

“I was told to come... by him,” he replied coolly, raising two perfectly shaped fingers to point directly at Abby—who only grinned wider.

That snapped Baby out of his daze. He flinched slightly, turning sharply as Romance—seated next to Abby—did the same.

“Why?” Romance asked with a calm tilt of his brow, voicing what Baby had been about to bark out himself.

Abby looked far too pleased with himself, arms crossed over his chest like a smug lion. “Since Baby was being dramatic, it had to be important. So I figured Mystery would be perfect for solving it! While Baby was yapping and growling, I texted Mystery to come over.”

He said it like it was the most obvious, brilliant solution in the world.

Romance and Baby both gawked at him. Abby didn’t seem to notice. He turned back to Mystery—who remained standing in the doorway like a weathered statue—completely unreadable.

“What took you so long, old man?”

That was usually the kind of thing no one dared to say to Mystery—ranked as he was, not to mention his power—but Abby lacked the instinct for self-preservation. Always had.

Mystery, for his part, didn’t react in the slightest. He merely responded with a quiet, clinical jab, “Saw your name.”

Baby snorted, lips twitching into a grin. Romance chuckled softly behind his hand. Abby, oblivious, beamed.

“Ah! Still learning how to open the magical boxes in the phone?” he asked brightly, already launching into a pointless explanation. “You just gotta—”

Mystery stepped back without a word, shutting the door slowly.

That alone pulled Baby back into focus.

Wait. Abby might’ve actually been on to something.

And Mystery did have the most functioning brain cells out of anyone here. That alone made him worth listening to.

Baby stepped forward slightly, expression softening again, a rare earnestness in his voice. “Would Mystery-nim consider... having a moment still?”

For once, there was no sass or smugness behind it. Just a sincere question—he wanted to hear what his senior had to say.

A silence followed. Romance and Abby glanced between the two, waiting.

Mystery didn’t move right away. He remained still in the hallway, back to them. Baby couldn’t feel nervous, that was taken together with his soul by Gwi-ma. Baby could only stand quietly, watching, waiting for a respond to react to.

Finally, Mystery turned his head just enough to face him. Though his eyes were covered, his aura gave a brief flicker of contemplation. Then, he finally gave a short nod.

With a shift of his shoulders, Mystery stepped inside, closing the door gently behind him. He stood inside the room, saying nothing—but making it clear he was waiting for Baby to explain the issue.

Baby didn’t waste a second.

He launched back into the explanation—this time without the growls, or slipping into demonic dialect that made Romance and Abby squint or read his aura like a weathered text. Now, it was just words. Clear, sharp, and finally spoken with some composure.

Once the full story was out, the room fell quiet.

Mystery hadn’t moved from where he first stationed himself, still standing near the door. The only change was the tilt of his head—chin lowered as he absorbed Baby’s words in full silently but most importantly thoroughly.

The three waited, clearly too eager despite trying not to show it.

Finally, Mystery straightened. He turned his head towards Baby. The attention made his fingers twitched slightly, resisting the urge to clap like an overeager child. Instead, he sharpened, silent, listening with his full focus.

“Humans are needy creatures,” Mystery began in his cool, steady tone—echoing Romance’s earlier words—before continuing without pause. “You should have taken that into account before letting Jinu sway you.”

Ah. Baby’s eyes flicked to the side.

It wasn’t a reprimand, exactly—Mystery wasn’t one for scolding—but the truth stung all the same. That was the reminder. Baby had been just as selfish as you, and this? This was the cost of that.

Fair. His eyes dropped to the carpet, shoulders heavy as Mystery’s voice carried on, calm and unbothered.

“However,” he said, “she is not one to leave.”

That snapped Baby’s head up. Mystery continued, head tilting slightly, fringe shifting, though never revealing the sharp briliant eyes hidden behind. “So... even if the two of you had a mindless argument over a foolish disagreement—which, I agree, could’ve been handled more peacefully if she wasn't blinded by her lack of self-worth—she’ll return. Even if you give her space and don’t speak to her.”

Baby grimaced, subtly. That didn’t help.

It wasn’t that he disliked the idea of keeping your cooling wave around... It was the thought of you returning anyway. Coming back while still expecting something from him he visibly couldn’t give.

But Mystery, unfazed, didn’t pause.

He lifted his chin to glance at the ceiling. “Of course, humans are fickle. So if she does surprise us and doesn’t return—worst-case scenario—she may attempt to damage your name. And, by extension, SAJA’s name. On those human gathering zones—”

“Socials, senior,” Romance cut in, smiling as he gently corrected.

Mystery paused only to nod, then continued, barely missing a beat. “...‘Socials’,” he echoed, as if the word were a foreign incantation. “The humans under the company that manage our images and interactions on those... 'Socials', would easily turn the narrative. She’d be painted as overbearing. You, as the wounded victim.”

He turned his face back toward Baby, cool and direct.

“That way, Jinu still gets the attention he wanted from the relationship,” he said plainly. “And you—get your ‘time’ back.”

Mystery finished with the same calm he always carried. He offered no emotional comfort, no praise—only clean-cut logic and resolution, as if he were stating a weather report.

The lack of him commenting on you potentially revealing they were demons spoke volumes too. No one would believe you and even spin it into one of those wild theories that would just give SAJA more attention through the content the humans would spin out of it.

Romance gave an approving clap, fingers snapping in a polished, regal manner. “Brilliant, as always.”

Abby just groaned, dragging his hands down his face. “Too many turns and curves. I think I got whiplash.”

Baby sighed heavily. His arms folded again as he rocked back on the heels of his feet, eyes fixed on nothing in particular.

“So much fucking unnecessary drama...” he muttered, his voice trailing off, drawn out by the pitter-patter of rain tapping steadily against the windows, ringing in his ears and echoing in his mind.

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closehereyes · 4 days ago

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I’m not a writer but I had an idea for a saja boys fic that goes like this. Anyways if anyone wants to steal this I better be number one on the tag list 🩵

Reader is a harbinger of negativity. She struggles with work, can’t maintain any relationships, and isolates herself. Without a healthy outlet for her negative feelings, they get redirected outwards towards her remaining friends, strangers in the street, anyone who happens to be walking by. Internally, these actions make her guilt ridden, anxious, depressed. While this should make her the ideal soul to take, she’s more of an asset if she’s left to keep spreading hatred and sorrow.

The boys notice the other demons leave her untouched for that reason, and take it upon themselves to make it worse. They buddy up to her, encourage her bad behaviors, and make her worse. Every time she laughs along to there insults towards others or herself, on the inside she’s filled with anxiety.

Yet with every faltered smile, every strained laugh, what’s left of the boys humanity is tugged at. Is it worth ruining her life just to forget there’s?

#saja boys x reader #saja abby x reader #saja baby #jinu x reader

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closehereyes · 4 days ago

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There Is a Light That Never Goes Out

There Is a Light That Never Goes Out (Requests)

Requests

synopsis: you, an angel, were sent by divine command—tasked with an impossible mission: protect a group of demons bound for destruction.

warning: hurt/comfort, can be all x reader but i did add more abby x reader moments

my first request! hopefully, i don’t disappoint you anon 😣 the title’s not even that related… i just like the song LOLLL

“It doesn’t make any sense for you to agree, though!” shouted your friend, Dorothea, as you sat peacefully by the altar, deep in prayer.

You opened your eyes and looked at her, not entirely sure what she was going on about. “I’m confused?”

She threw both hands up, gesturing towards you in exasperation. “You! Being sent by our Lord to protect demons!”

Oh.

So that’s what this was about.

You looked at her for a moment, then simply smiled before returning to your prayer. “It’s alright, Dory. Everything happens for a reason, and our Lord is never wrong in their decisions.”

You let out a soft exhale, finishing your prayer with a reverent gesture, before turning back to find her still staring at you, utterly flabbergasted by how calmly you were taking all of this.

“What if— What if they corrupt you? We can’t bear to lose you. Please reconsider, dear sister!”

You only shook your head at her words, already walking back towards the sanctuary. Predictably, she followed close behind, trying to keep pace. You glanced sideways and saw the lingering worry etched across her face.

“Our Lord has already given me the names of the demons I’m meant to protect…” you began, watching as her eyes widened.

She was just about to cut in again with another desperate plea when you raised a hand gently to stop her, urging her to let you finish.

“They’re… interesting,” you said first, then added, “They all made their deals to protect the ones they love. It wasn’t out of malice.”

You stopped walking, which made her stop too. Her eyes stayed locked on yours, filled with concern. You reached out, took her hands in yours, and looked into her eyes.

“I’m truly grateful for your concern. But I know what I’m stepping into,” you said, your voice calm but firm. “And I believe they’re just misunderstood. They weren’t born evil… they were led astray. Please, support me in this, dear sister…”

You held her gaze, silently pleading.

Dorothea stared back at you for a long moment. Fear still lingered in her eyes, but finally, she gave a slow, reluctant nod.

“Alright… but be careful out there.”

—

“No…” you whisper, horrified, as a vision flashes before your eyes—Jinu, one of the demons you were assigned to protect, about to sacrifice himself for the demon hunter. You immediately dart forward, wings flaring as you fly closer to where he is, having been watching from above as the battle unfolds.

As you move to reach him, your eyes catch something else—Abby, another demon under your protection, getting struck hard. The blow sends him crashing down, struggling to get back on his feet.

No.

No, this can’t be happening.

You halt mid-air, torn. Jinu is seconds away from death, guided by the very future you just saw. But Abby… Abby can’t even stand. He’s trembling, using only his hands to push himself off the ground, clearly in pain.

I’m… I’m sorry, Abby.

You say it silently in your head, your heart aching, and begin to shift towards Jinu—when something catches your eye. A glint of metal. From the corner of your vision, you see it… it’s near Abby. You glance back, and…

It’s the other demon hunter. Raising her spear.

NO!

Without a second thought, you race to Abby’s side, wings slicing through the air. You arrive just as the demon hunter lifts her weapon. One hand flies out in front of Abby to shield him, while the other extends to strike, defensive and desperate.

The spear misses Abby by mere inches—but your breath hitches as pain blooms in your abdomen. The demon hunter’s attack has landed, but not where she intended. The blade has pierced you through your stomach. Not deep enough to kill, but enough to steal your breath.

She stares at you, startled, eyes wide. “Who–” she begins, pointing at you.

Your eyes widen in return.

She… she sees you?

You glance down, and that’s when you realize. Instead of Abby being hit, it’s you. The spear embedded in your flesh, blood already staining your robes. Breathing is harder now, but you push past the pain.

Abby, who had braced himself for the blow, blinks open his eyes—only to see feathers drifting down around him.

Angel wings.

An angel? Standing in front of him?

Before he can react, you pivot and bolt towards Jinu. You reach him just in time, using your powers to push him backward—levitating him to safety—while you take his place, standing between the demon hunter and what would’ve been his end.

She raises her weapon again, but freezes when your eyes meet.

“You’re…” she murmurs, barely audible.

Jinu, now safely off to the side, blinks in disbelief. He looks back at the one who pushed him out of danger—and sees you.

So, it was true.

All those times he’d felt an angelic presence. The white feathers scattered at the front of their building. The strange dizziness after dreams he couldn’t remember.

It had all been you.

And now… you’re fading.

The effort of protecting them, of shielding Rumi from Gwi Ma’s fire, is taking its toll. You’re beginning to collapse, the light dimming around you.

Realizing what’s happening, Jinu acts on instinct. Without hesitation, he pours every last drop of his remaining power into one final act—teleporting you, and all the demons, back into the demon realm.

—

“—ut of here! It smells disgusting!” a voice shouts, just as you slowly begin to stir. The flickering firelight dancing along the walls stings your eyes as they flutter open.

“It’s good for healing! You would’ve known that if you actually took care of your body!” another voice fires back.

“Drinking modern tech-y steroids doesn’t make you bette—”

“Shush, I think she’s waking up!” someone near you cuts in, silencing the bickering voices around you.

Your eyes adjust to the warm glow, and the first thing you see is… pink hair?

It’s Romance—one of the demons you were assigned to protect. You turn your head slowly, taking in your surroundings—and the others. All of them are here, standing around you. Baby and Abby, frozen mid-argument, now staring at the angel who’d just risked everything for them.

You try to sit up—but wince. A sharp pain flares down your back. You glance behind you and notice your wings… or what’s left of them. The feathers are mostly singed, now poorly wrapped in makeshift bandages—clearly not the work of a professional. Some of them are already slipping off.

“I… wouldn’t recommend sitting up,” a voice beside Romance murmurs.

It’s Mystery. He’s watching you, gaze soft and uncertain—only to quickly avert his eyes when he catches you looking at him. Jinu, standing nearby, lets out a low chuckle.

“Don’t mind him. He’s shy,” Jinu teases, amusement in his voice.

Mystery groans quietly and hides his face further, prompting a ripple of laughter from the others.

Then Abby speaks, cutting through the moment with a question. “How are you feeling?”

For a second, you don’t realize he’s addressing you. But when his eyes meet yours, you blink and respond.

“Oh! I’m… well. I am… eternally grateful to all of you for coming to my aid.” You speak slowly, voice hoarse. You glance down at your body—where once there were gaping wounds, now only faint scars remain.

They… healed you?

“Do all angels talk so weird?” Baby mutters to Abby, who immediately elbows him in the stomach.

“Oof.”

Romance, noticing your inspection, leans in with a gentle smile. “We used our magic to heal you, miss angel. But… your wings, unfortunately, couldn’t be restored with demon magic.” His voice trails off as he gestures to the bandages—one of which flutters loose as if to prove his point.

“It was Abby who bandaged it so ugly,” Baby adds suddenly, jabbing a finger in Abby’s direction.

Abby elbows him again.

“Ow! It was true?! You insisted even though you absolutely suc—” Baby starts, only to be muffled by Abby’s hand clamping over his mouth.

You stare at them—this odd, mismatched group of demons—and can’t help but giggle.

“It’s not a problem. I actually… like my wings looking slightly disfigured.”

Your gaze softens as it lands on Abby, and you offer him a warm smile.

His eyes widen, and the tips of his ears and cheeks flush pink beneath your stare.

“Just… don’t expect me to bandage your wings again,” Abby mumbles, still refusing to meet your gaze.

Baby finally yanks Abby’s hand away from his mouth, though Abby keeps him locked in place.

“Are you seriously blushing right now—Ow!”

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closehereyes · 5 days ago

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circle of anti-love

synopsis: you trap yourself in a ring of salt because you’re mad at your bf

characters: jinu, abby, romance, mystery, baby

warning/s: none,

note/s: mystery’s takes a different approach! and i’m so baby biased i’m unapologetic about it lmfao

jinu:

the argument you and jinu had was in no way detrimental to your relationship but it would be a lie to say that it didn’t piss you off.

you saw him corner the huntrix member with a smirk on his face and lean down, you know that jinu would never do anything to put your relationship at risk but the sight definitely had you seeing red.

“(y/n), talk to me.” jinu says as he follows you around the living room, you say nothing as you stand on the side of the living room, a jar full of salt in your hand as you draw a reasonably sized circle around yourself.

“sweetheart, you can’t be serious.” he crosses his arms as he looks at you. you spared him a glance, still not saying anything as you sat down, opening the book and paying him no mind.

“don’t you think you’re being petty?” he asks. you say nothing, flipping a page louder than necessary to get the point across. i’m ignoring you.

jinu sighs. “you know, you’re gonna have to come out of there eventually. i won’t bother you.”

another page flipped.

jinu throws his hands up in surrender. “fine! be that way.”

you scoff at his lack of effort as he walks away, but you didn’t bother replying to him as you continued to read your book.

hours passed and there was no sign of jinu, a part of you couldn’t help but feel disappointed at the fact that jinu kept his word and didn’t bother you.

you swallowed, cringing at how dry your throat feels, looking around the living room, you see no sign of your demon boyfriend. surely, you can grab a glass of water and get back in your circle to finish your book.

you step carefully over the circle, making sure that your step makes no sound and that the salt stays in place.

you let out a sigh in relief, only to scream in shock once a dark mist appears and a hand pulls you into a warm body.

“hi there, sweetheart.” jinu whispers sweetly into your ear. you thrash against his hold, trying to pull away but you were no match for his inhumane strength as he had the audacity to laugh at your attempts.

when you calmed down, jinu turned you around to face him, smirking at the pout on your face.

“are you ready to talk now?” he asks. you shake your head slightly. “there’s nothing to talk about, jinu.”

“that can’t be right.” he clicks his tongue. “my sweetheart is mad at me. i want to fix things.”

jinu places a finger under your chin and tilts it up to face him. “let’s fix this, please?”

you relent, seeing the sincerity in his eyes.

“i really… didn’t appreciate you leaning close to rumi like that.” you say quietly, almost as if you dreaded what he would say. you expected him to call you overdramatic, that it didn’t mean anything or that you were blowing things out of proportion.

“i see.” jinu replies, pulling you closer to his chest. “i’m sorry. i’ll do better. i should’ve thought how you would feel.” huh?

you pull away to see jinu looking at you with a serious expression.

“i won’t do it again, promise.” you couldn’t find the words to say as you let him whisk you onto the couch.

“can you promise me something too?”

“what?”

“let me know when you need assurance. there’s only ever you for me.”

abby:

you and abby were in a standstill. you expressed displeasure about how his fans were too touchy and that he should establish a boundary between them because his body was yours to touch, not theirs. abby only patted your head and called you cute but did nothing to address your concerns and that irked you off.

“baby, you aren’t serious right?”

“yes i am.” you say as you cross your arms, sitting in your circle of salt, glaring at your boyfriend who looked like he wanted to cry.

“all because a few randoms flirted with me? baby you know you’re the only one for me.” the way he brushes off your reason for being pissed off only serves to piss you off even more.

you rolled your eyes, even going as far as to turn your back on him, huffing.

a groan escapes abby’s lips. “babe, come on you can’t be serious.” you say nothing.

“fine! be that way, let’s see who cracks first.” he says, sitting down on the couch and crossing his arms, staring straight at you as if he were challenging you.

it was on.

you spent the next hour on your phone, quickly liking then scrolling away angrily whenever a fanedit of your boyfriend appears on your feed.

you didn’t spare him a glance but you were aware that he was still sitting on the couch behind you. your ass was starting to hurt from sitting on the ground. why couldn’t you have drawn your ring of salt around the couch instead? you think to yourself, almost wanting to get out of your circle just to stretch your legs.

a sound almost resembling a whine interrupts your thoughts, you pivot slightly to see abby looking at you with a frown on his face.

“are you seriously still mad?” the sad lilt in his voice made your body turn back around to completely face him.

“you’re already cracking?” you couldn’t help but challenge him, a brow raised as your lover downright pouts.

“babe, do you know how hard it is to have you so close to me but i can’t hold you?”

“and whose fault is that?” you countered, crossing your arms. abby stands up and rounds the circle.

“mine, sure. whatever, but please, let me hold you? we can talk about it more but i really need to hold you right now.” abby puts out his hand, a sad expression on his face as he waits for your response.

“i’ll do better.”

with a sigh, you reach out, your hand pushing through the salt ring’s barrier. abby immediately pulls you away from the damned circle, causing a yelp to escape your lips.

you were immediately greeted by a hard chest and abby’s face nuzzling into your neck.

“‘m sorry babe! i know it’s hard to have a boyfriend who’s so hot that people just wanna touch his abs all the time–” you cut him off with you trying to pull his arms away from your form.

“let me go!” but there was no real bite behind your words.

“no, but in all seriousness. i’ll put a boundary between me and my fans.” he says, staring right into your eyes with an expression of sincerity.

“i’d even put a boundary between me and the other saja boys if that’d mean you’d never put a boundary between us again.”

you soften slightly, your hands patting his arms, which only causes him to hold you tighter.

“you mean it?” you asked, pulling away from him to cup his face in your hands. abby nods, determined.

“even jinu?”

“well…”

“abby!”

“i’m kidding!”

the two of you shared a laugh over it, and your boyfriend kept his word. he put a boundary with his fans immediately when he had an event.

he’d rather not touch anyone ever again than have you put space between the two of you again.

romance:

“oh?” the pink haired man asked, a smirk on his face as he crossed his arm and looks at the circle that was drawn around the couch.

“and what have i done to warrant such a violent response from my lover?” he asked, tilting his head to the side, a frown on his face.

“oh, are you talking to me? or the throw pillow beside me?” you answer sarcastically. romance sighs as he walks over to you, his hand reaching out only for him to hiss as the salt barrier burns him.

“it hurts.”

you roll your eyes. “good. i need space.”

romance bites back a smirk, you were so adorable in his eyes that he couldn’t take the frown that was on your face seriously.

“my love are you not aware? distance is only but a means to test how far our love can travel” he places a hand to his chest. “and it hurts me to see you intentionally test our unconditional love.” he sighs dramatically, but you weren’t in the mood.

“do you say this to all the people in your life or am i just lucky?” romance’s brows furrowed in confusion as you don’t play along with him. .

you say nothing as you swiped on your phone and threw it in his direction, your phone hitting him square on the chest. romance takes a look on the screen and sees a gossip blog about him and a huntrix member, the focal point was the fancam of him smirking at her and placing his chin on his hand that was propped on the table.

‘saja boys’ romance… romancing with huntrix’s mira?!’ the article read.

romance takes another look at you who refused to meet his eyes, a small pout on your face as you hugged a throw pillow to your chest.

“lover…” romance trails off. you flick your head to the side. “i really don’t wanna talk to you right now, romance.”

he didn’t think about how his actions would reflect the media, his intentions were only to piss the huntrix member off but it seemed like oblivious fans took it out of context.

“i know that you’re flirty but i thought it was only for me.” you say quietly, still not looking at him. romance frowns, feeling his heart drop to his stomach as you remain saddened by his actions. “it sucks i have other people to share with when it comes to your affection.”

“my love—” romance kneels in front of the couch, a frown on his face as he reaches for you, baring his teeth as the circle burns his skin.

“rome, what are you doing?!”

“trying to reach you, my love.” he says, hissing out his words as you can see the layers of his skin peel, against better judgment, you swipe away at the salt, your lover almost falling face first into the sofa.

“let me see that.” you say, grabbing his hand, clicking your tongue as you examined the burns.

almost in a flash, romance’s skin goes back to normal in front of your very eyes and before you could react, you feel romance intertwine his hand with yours, his other one coming to sandwich your hand between his.

“my lover…” romance trails off, “i apologize for making you feel that way. it was never my intention.” you still wouldn’t look at him. romance, still kneeling, places a kiss on your hand.

“you are the only one to receive the highest severity of my affections. i’m sorry for making you doubt that. thank you for letting me know.” he says as he places another tender kiss on your knuckles, his lips staying on your skin for longer.

“let me make it up to you?”

before you could even respond, he whisks you in his arms, carrying you to your shared bedroom, wrapping you in your fluffy blankets and playing your comfort show as he cuddles you on the bed.

he’d spend his entire lifetime just to show you that only you mattered to him.

mystery:

something about your boyfriend is that he is feral. almost like a rabid dog if you’re being honest. but all rabid dogs eventually soften up and become affectionate to their owners, and it was no doubt that mystery fell into that category, he hated other people but he loved being around you.

however, he shows his love in the form of biting. and (un)fortunately for you, your skin became his favorite chew toy.

your skin became a canvas showcasing different shades of red, blue and purple, teeth indents scattered around from your arm, to your thighs even on your cheeks.

you can barely move without any soreness, and you can’t even be mad. you loved mystery and you loved that he loved you just as equally.

but your body needs a break. you fear that your skin might actually not recover. and it wasn’t as if you haven’t asked your boyfriend nicely. in fact, the fact that they’re just bruises instead of teeth indents was already an improvement.

you just needed a break.

the saja boys arrived back home after a fansigning event, mystery headed straight to his room, where you were in so that he could recharge, only for him to literally fall on his knees as he sees you sleeping on the couch, a ring of salt drawn around it.

you were awoken to a whimper. your bleary eyes blinked to see your boyfriend with a pout on his face as his eyes were trained to you.

“why are you doing this?” you unconsciously pout at the sad tone mystery uses.

“myst, come on. my skin needs a break! there’s more bruises than skin.” you say as you gestured to your arms.

“you know, people would think you’re hurting me.” you say in passing and you can see mystery tense up.

“i would never hurt y—” “i know!” you cut him off, “but walking around with these marks would make people think otherwise.”

“but… that’s my way to show you affection. i love seeing my marks on you.” if mystery were to hypothetically have dog ears, it would be flat against his head right now as he looks at you with a sad expression.

you bit your lip, feeling your resolve chip away as you can see the distance between the two of you affect him.

before you could even think of an appropriate response, mystery hisses as he forces his way in the ring of salt.

“mystery!” you say, moving to break it but mystery snarls at you. “no, i need to know the pain my bites bring you.”

“mystery, your bite only stays for a few days, i don’t need you burning yourself alive for me!” you say as you swiped away the salt, taking mystery in your arms as you tried soothing the burn on his skin.

mystery’s lips tremble. “so… i’m not allowed to bite you anymore?”

you part his bangs, placing a kiss on his forehead, thinking of a compromise.

“how about… whenever you bite me, i bite back? that way, you can feel ” mystery’s head perks up, a small smile forming on his face as he gives you a curt nod.

you moved first, placing a gentle bite on his arm, mystery purrs happily before he chomps down on yours.

“myst, too hard!”

“..sorry.”

needless to say, there was work that needed to be done but the marks on your skin noticeably lessened.

baby:

you knew that baby rarely showed his affection and that the fact that you were his lover should’ve been enough. but lately, it felt like you were the only one exerting effort in your relationship and it was beginning to take a toll on you.

you decided on giving him the same treatment back.

you barely brushed a kiss on his cheek, you don't hug him back when he hugs you goodbye and you even resorted to sleeping in the guest room.

baby thought nothing of it, in fact, when you fall asleep, he sneaks in the guest room to drape an arm on your waist and hold you. but you don’t realize it as he wakes up and leaves before you.

you weren’t getting the point across. actually, baby thought your avoidant ways were adorable.

you needed to change your ways and do something even more drastic.

the saja boys just finished a grueling dance practice and baby wanted nothing to do but rest in your arms, maybe even ask how your day has been.

he was well aware that he was putting strain on your relationship by not giving the effort you deserved. he knows that his upcoming comeback was no excuse. but today marked the last day before the comeback’s release, the group was given a week to recuperate before promotions, and baby knew that he’d spend all ten thousand and eighty minutes glued to you, but who was counting?

he clicks his tongue as he enters the room, seeing a ring of salt around the bed where you lay, scrolling through your phone.

“this is how we’re playing now?” baby asked, you looked up, staring straight at him, voice monotone as you responded.

“go away, baby.”

the blue haired demon only smirks as he rounds the bed, toeing slightly at the salt ring, chuckling as his boot sizzles against it.

“really? where’d you get this technique, the dark web?” he says sarcastically. “are you planning to exorcise me in my sleep too?”

you huff, crossing your arms.

“it’s keeping you away, so it’s working even if you make fun of me!”

“what brought this on, sweetheart?”

“dunno.” you answered, lying down and turning away from him. “go away.”

baby stays quiet, too quiet that you didn’t even know if he was still in the room, but you didn’t wanna turn and check if he’s still inside the room.

you sigh sadly to yourself, you didn’t even know where this back and forth was going because it was obvious to you that baby didn’t see what was wrong and why you were acting that way.

“hey.” you let out a screech as arms wrap around your waist, turning you around and pulling you flush against your boyfriend’s chest.

“w-wh— how? what?” you sputtered out your words as baby smiles mischievously.

“the thing about salt rings is that… there’s always gonna be a portion that’s drawn thinly.” he says as he gestures towards the foot of the bed.

“seems like you overlooked that, babe.” you clicked your tongue but went limp in his hold nonetheless.

“now,“ baby starts. “do you wanna tell me what’s wrong?” his hand comes up to cup your cheek, his thumb rubbing on your skin. you don’t face him as you answer.

“i felt like i was being neglected by you.” you say, voice barely above a whisper. “and i didn’t know how to bring it up because you were always so busy and–” baby cuts you off with a soft kiss on your forehead.

“‘m sorry.” he says, voice matching yours. “it was unfair to you, i know. i’ll do better.” you couldn’t shake the sincerity from his voice as he forces you to look at his golden eyes.

“you’re always welcome to talk to me, i’ll make time for you, always, okay?” he presses a kiss on your chin, “i’m sorry.” a kiss on your cheek.

“i’ll do better.” another kiss on your forehead.

“i don’t deserve you.” finally, a kiss on your lips. you reciprocate, not knowing that tears were slowly slipping from your closed eyes.

you didn’t realize that you were overthinking for nothing and that you didn’t need to go to such lengths, but baby understands. baby made an oath to himself to never make you feel this way again.

he promises to never be the cause of your tears ever again.

note/s: can you tell i lost the plot somewhere around baby's part... i'm sorry i'll do better in other fics ik this isn't my best one lol BUT if you have any saja boys requests feel free to drop them in my inbox! i wanna write more but no prompt is coming to mind </3

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