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mypurplewinee · 1 day ago

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Singing Buddy

one-shot: baby saja x rapper! fem! reader

summary: beginner rapper huh? well a certain someone loves your voice. maybe a little too much. (requested by @theindigobook) warnings: language, awful rapping, obsessive behavior

It’s been two hours.

Two, grueling hours in the blistering sun.

Who knew Korea would be so hot? You were fanning yourself with your poor cardboard sign, which on it had a sloppily written sentence, “Rap Battle!” And it was either you looked too good of an opponent to rap against, or no one was interested.

Your phone vibrated with another take on the recent K-Pop news highlights. You sighed, scrolling through the beautiful faces of the Saja Boys, but you would only stop to see Baby Saja. His hair was an amazing blue, and his face was so adorable that every time you saw him, your heart would skip a beat. He was like an idol to you, especially with that deep voice of his. It would be something you never understood.

“Rap…battle?”

A familiar voice interrupted your thoughts, but you didn’t bother looking up. As you mindlessly scrolled, you replied uninterestedly, “Yeah, yeah, you can choose the topic.”

”I’d rather choose the topic of you not stalking me y’know.”

You quickly fixed your composure, seeing the very man of your dreams. Oh my god, how you fucked up. Your phone launched itself away from your palm as you stood up, your hands moving frantically as you began to apologize.

Baby eyed you down, saving you from kneeling and embarrassing you in public, “I don’t care, can you rap or nah?”

Your teary eyes blinked as you nodded eagerly, “Yeah, yeah, yeah! Like anything, dogs, frogs, and—“

Your heart ached when he let out a scoff, his brows raised at you. He looked utterly gorgeous. He wasn’t out with his usual signature clothing either. He wore an oversized red flannel over a plain white shirt, along with an oversized black jorts that draped his legs. His black beanie held the insignia of his band, and your gaze followed his ringed fingers as he shuffled his hair to the side.

“Give me a sample then, I’m on break,” Baby rested his cheek on his palm, brows furrowed, “Don’t bore me, will you?”

You cleared your throat, tucking a lock of your hair to the side as you gaze around you. All of a sudden, a crowd had formed in your area. You doubt it’s for you, especially because of the gooning eyes of the crowd all centered at your idol.

Clutching the cheap mic you bought at the thrift store, you swallowed thickly, tapping at the mic.

“You mess with me, yo, you get a piece of me yo…”, you quietly began, making awkward movements of your hands, “So don’t come at my door begging for more, cause I’ma drop your lore like no, you can’t implore—“

There was no cheering yet in the crowd, and your cheeks began to turn a bright shade of pink. This was too embarrassing, but when you looked at Baby, he tilted his head, waiting for you to continue. Biting your tongue, you laughed nervously;

”’Cause this dirt you have on me is shit no one’s gonna believe, so best zip your pretty lips and let me go on and play with your little sailor ships,” you continued, losing your talent immediately at the pressure. You stared at Baby, whose eyes unwavered at your form.

”You lost me at the third verse…?”

”O-oh, y/n! But my friends call me y/n-“ you mentally slap yourself, growing weak at the crowd that walked away, muttering insults, “I’m usually better but today just seems like I didn’t—“

He surprisingly had a playful demeanor about him, “Yeah, sure. You got the voice but,” he got closer to you, smirking as he stared at your mic, “You need better audio ‘cause I couldn’t hear that baby voice of yours.”

You choked on your words, did he? You blinked, and in that split second he was gone from the view. Your flustered reaction made you slap your cheeks in denial, “Baby flirted with me!” You squealed gleefully in the air.

Since then, you’ve been trying to get Baby’s attention in concerts. You would wave him over, talk about your lyrics, and so on. You would say that you guys probably formed a friendly relationship, especially because he landed you to earning a studio. There was something in every talk you had with him, something that made your heart skip a beat, your lips flutter a little more, and your brain fart more in your replies.

You actually got to find a playful side of him too, mostly due to the awful pranks he pulled.

“Hey, did you see the flowers I got ya?” He hummed, relaxing on your studio sofa as he licked his fingers clean of spicy wing sauce. You ate with him too, barely finishing the food in your mouth as you turned at the direction his chin pointed. A bouquet of daisies lay on your side table, and you scrambled up to get them, but was immediately faced with the rough ground.

An eruption of laughter was heard behind you as you grumbled up, seeing your shoe laces tied together. There, Baby covered his mouth, looking down on you as he saw your pitiful pout.

”Baby! What the fuck?!” You shouted, standing awkwardly as you stumbled up to attack him, “Just you-“

However, you tripped on your own feet, making you land forward onto the legs of the man. Your blushing face looks up, apologizing quickly as he pulls you up.

“I’m so so so so so so sorry Baby! I didn’t mean to—“ you began, but he hushed you with a single finger, “What?”

”You have some sauce right here,” he muttered, swiping it away from the corner of your lip, “You’re kinda sad for a rapper though.”

”Say that again!” You huffed, smacking his hand away, “One day, I’m gonna be a world-wide rapper whose even better than you!”

”Not with that vocal range.” He countered, his blue eyes practically consuming you whole, “And certainly not until I hear it first.

Before you could ask, his hands flew to your waist and neck. His body pressed against yours as his lips grazed your ear.

“I’m a nasty thing, y/n, and you make me worse every time you look at me with those apologetic eyes,” his hand squeezes your throat, making you squeak, “And it makes me want to hear you sing your heart out, and see the way you run yourself out of breath every time.”

Your hands wrap on the arm that holds your lifeline, and you muster, “B-baby?” Was this another one of his pranks?

But he continues, “I just can’t hide myself anymore y’know? It’s like I’m a sucker for you.”

You blink a few times, feeling the way his chest rose as he breathed you in. This, this was something you’ve never seen, or felt, before. A fluttering feeling began to awaken in your tummy as you nervously replied;

”W-well I kinda don’t understand what’s going on but—“

Immediately you were let go, the blue-haired man laughing as he pointed at you, “I almost got you there, huh?”

You gaped, laughing awkwardly, “Y-yeah, you did?” You began to walk backwards, afraid of what unfolded, “I-I think I’m gonna get my phone really quick—“

Yet, your feet failed you again and made your body tumble backward onto the floor. Your head hit the wooden floor with a hard thump, making you hiss in pain as he stared down at you with glistening eyes.

“Where do you think you’re going, singing buddy?” he asked, his skin slowly morphing to a purple shade of lilac. His brows furrowed, and his lips formed to a frown.

“Nowhere, I was simply—“ you yelped when he pulled your legs toward him, “Hey! Let me go—“

”Pft, heck no,” Baby’s eyes gleamed with trouble, “After how you made me feel? I’m not letting you out of this room.”

Claws dug at your calves, making you wince as he climbed on you;

”I wanna hear you sing, y/n, with a voice only I can hear.”

work and rights belong to me, laurel.

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mypurplewinee · 2 days ago

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Absolutely Yours, Truly

one-shot: saja boys x manager! fem! reader

anon ask summary: Being a manager to the infamous Saja Boys is no easy feat, and how you got contracted was a mystery. Maybe you want attention, or perhaps just for them to see how much you’re doing. You don’t want a raise, no you want them to shine. But that’s taking a little too much out of your own soul to do

a/n: mostly Jinu interaction? kind of fluff, definitely humor and flirting. crashouts & language.

They were annoying, and you weren’t going to gaslight yourself into believing they weren’t. To the public, they were handsome, iconic boys— eye-catching and mouth-drooling to every human being.

To you, they were like bratty little kids. Who never once tells you about their next song, and simply toss you their script and ads that need to be publicized. Like, hello? You’re practically known at Coffee Bean for your same order at the same times.

Get a load of that shit.

You stare at your reflection in the bathroom. Your once illuminating eyes were now adorned with tear burns and eye bags. Rubbing your thin lips together, you feel your chapped flesh rub against each other roughly. Maybe you should order that family-pack of chapsticks. (You dismissed it easily— the boys would simply get their hands on it before you.) Sighing, you rinse your face with the cold water of the faucet. Its cold sensation awakens you, refreshing you for about the next two hours.

“You done in there?”

The voice of Jinu makes you groan, “What the heck do you want cover boy?”

You dry your face with the branded Saja Boys towel, and ruffle your hair to make it look at least a little more fluffier. The hours of restlessness and no sleep leave you tired, but you have to last— especially for them.

With them you felt needed, wanted. Or at least you think you did, because you convinced yourself that because you lasted for a year with them— it makes you at least needed. But you knew you were killing yourself with the stress and overwork, and you didn’t want them to notice. Because…they might just hire somebody else.

Oblivious to you, they only saw you as a pawn. Someone temporary to their plan for obliterating Huntrix. You only needed to know the details and they could expect results; you never let them down and never once retaliated. All the others before who did, well, never lived to tell the tale.

“Well like everyone else, we need to use the bathroom. Don’t use up all the water.”

You mocked his voice as you opened the door, “DoN’T uSE uP aLL tHE wATer!” You raised a brow, eyeing the surprisingly well-dressed raven, “If only you coordinated your outfits yourself, you would save me a ton of time at the tailors.”

Behind Jinu was Mystery, who chuckled lightly at your remark, “You’re cute when you’re mad, say,” the iconic boy leaned against the doorframe, “You look a little wasted, don’t you?”

A pang hits your heart as you deny it immediately, “Wasted?!” You roll your eyes and laugh a little too excessively, “I’m just not wearing makeup, so perhaps be a little nicer?”

The pair shrugged and dismissed you, with only Jinu turning back, “Fix yourself up, it genuinely doesn’t look good on you.”

Whether it was a compliment or not, you took it seriously. From that day forward, you bought every high-coverage make-up you could. It masked every dark mark you had and made you full of color. But even now, behind stage, it didn’t last very long.

You got noticed every now and then; not just by the boys, but by the crew as well. Every, “Are you okay?” and “You look tired y/n…” just adds another brick to your load.

And it simply didn’t take long until you were stuck home, sick and unable to lift yourself off the bed. Bare in your oversized t-shirt saying “best manager ever” (a gift you gave yourself) and a thong, you mustered the energy to pick up a ringing call.

“y/n?” spoke Abs, “We’re looking every fucking where for you! Where are you?!”

You pulled the phone a distance away from your ear, waiting for the nuisance to quiet down. Of all the band, Abs had to be the most prodding one of all. The one who pokes your rib, asking if they were having hotpot tonight— and if you didn’t, he’d annoy you to death for one. Which actually might be possible if he did right now.

You lick your lips, making a smacking noise as you sing on the phone, “Are we done?”

A silence followed, but not before he continued, “We haven’t seen you for a week, and we don’t have anyone to do your work.” A shout is heard in the back. Was someone screaming that the printer didn’t work? Well duh, you thought, only you knew how to work that old thing.

“I can’t,” you murmured, plopping yourself on the plush bed, “I’m drained. I did a BP check and I’m so fucking low, so if I were to work today…” you sighed, “I’d probably drop dead.”

“In my arms? That’d be perfect; just confess your love to me before you do.”

You sat up immediately, fuming, “Okay, so fuck you first of all—“

You didn’t finish, being startled by the doorbell. Abs probably heard because he made an “oh!” sound;

“That’s probably Jinu and Baby, they’re going to pick you up.”

You were gonna explode. Yep.

“Tell them to go back! And how the hell do you know where I live?!”

“It was on your job application.”

You hissed through your teeth, muttering incoherent words as you carried your phone to the door. Well, halfway through the journey anyway. The pair was already settling themselves in your tiny kitchen. “I bet my freaking house keys was on my job application too, huh?” you said, hanging up before Abs could reply. Baby was eyeing your hot sauces, his lips whispering the ingredients to himself as he inspected the bottle. Jinu stared at you, a grimace on his face as he stared at your beaten bunny sippers.

“How are you not decent in your own home?” he begins, tilting his head as he points at your legs, “Nice pair by the way.”

Your eyes want to bulge out of your skull as you bite your finger. How the heck were you going to get them out? Moreover, in a way that doesn’t get you fired?!

“Aha, well funny story actually,” you begin, but not before snapping your fingers at Baby, “Drink that shit and your asshole will burn like the flaming ring of hell when you obliterate your organs in the fucking toilet.”

That enough made him place the bottle back onto the counter and let out a little “jeez”.

You continue, rubbing your temples, “First of all, this is my house— so I wear and do what I like, alright? Second of all, isn’t it so obvious that I look dead?! I mean look at me!” You open your palms expressively, your jaw dropping in exaggeration.

Jinu rolled his eyes. He’s always such a bossy boss bossy boss!! You can’t help but frown, your brows furrow together as you hum, waiting for a reply.

“You look fine.” he said simply.

Oh my gosh, you thought, if he wasn’t your boss, he’d be done and gone and folded away into blank space. You look at Baby, who didn’t say much as he nodded along with Jinu’s response.

“I’m literally wearing panties in front of my coworkers and they aren’t fazed,” you hiss silently, “Gosh.”

The raven eyed you, watching you almost go crazy with your expressions. You were still expendable, and your soul still fluttered with its natural blue aura. If you couldn’t work, then he’d make sure you’d be put to use— as above, and as below. Yet, you began to cry.

“I’m tired alright?” you crack, “Of all the drama and all the work! ‘y/n do this!’ and ‘y/n do that!’ but never ‘y/n take a break’ or ‘y/n here’s this drink for you so you don’t fucking dehydrate yourself!”

”I practically live my life at work, okay?!” you shout, feeling confident enough to jab your finger at his chest, “I live to make you guys shine— to have victory at every award you guys qualify for. I’m the one pulling the strings, getting the connections, and making sure you look fine as fuck for your fans! So I’m sorry if—“

“Is this a bad time?”

Romance is followed by Mystery and Abs, who come in with a wad of papers, “You need to make copies of this, it’s due later on.”

You jump, like literally.

“See?! See?!” you shout, your eyes tearing, “And then all I get is work work work! I need a break, and if I can’t even get that, then I at least need care! I’m fucking human!”

You point at the papers like as if they were baby spiders being birthed in your home, “I’m not a machine! I’m not a workaholic! I wanna help you all, not-not-not do all this! Like lighten the load, please!”

Another moment of silence passes. A mutual consensus passes through the demons, unbeknownst to you. Yes, this seems like that others call a human “crashout”, but there was reason and rationale. They aren’t going to help you immediately of course, but they just hum. Clearly, you’re still loyal— but they’ve been using you too much.

Romance sets the papers by your coffee mug, whistling as he breaks the ice, “Out of topic, but did your ass get flatter? It used to bounce a little more when you ran about.” Of course, Abs nodded. Slowly, you turned your head, blinking once, two times, and three times. You didn’t have the energy, but you had that angry human fuel through you. You sauntered to the pink men;

“Well, maybe if I had the time to go to the gym and work on my glutes— I would please you more. But please,” you opened your arms, “Be my guest and judge me more. I’m definitely not going to sob on the floor.”

Another period of silence, and it’s broken by you this time, “What’s so hard to understand? To say?”

“What is there to say?” says Mystery, scratching his chin, “We’re not you, so we’re not supposed to understand if you never say anything.”

Scoffing, you reply, “So like what? I can just tell you guys ‘Hey, I’m tired! Can I sleep on the couch for a while and work on this later?’ Like you’d let—“

“Yeah.”

You turn to Baby, who finishes licking his lips clean of the sauce you warned him about, “You’re our manager, but if you can’t manage yourself— then how are you supposed to manage us?”

You didn’t have the heart to tell him that he’s going to feel the effects of that sauce soon. Your voice was nearly a sob;

“So I can just say I’m tired and be excused for a few hours?”

Heads bobbed in the room, making a “well duh” face. You felt stupid, over exaggerated even. You threw this fit for nothing? All these sleepless nights when you could’ve just asked for a break?

“S-so can I,” you sniffle, looking at Jinu, “…take a b-break? Without being punished?”

“We care about getting you well, of course.” he sighed, running his fingers through his gorgeous locks, “You can take the week—“

You jumped onto his chest, sobbing, “I fucking love and hate you guys— I feel s-so bad!” His shirt was scrunched in your palms, being soaked with your snot and tears. He won’t say anything for now, but a week from now he’ll be sure to remind you.

“Group hug!” You sobbed, and when no one moved, you hissed, “Group hug or I’ll make sure you guys wear leather tights in your next debut!”

It truly worked as a charm.

It’s been a few months since your confession, and every now and then you’d take your necessary breaks. Not too much to make them doubt you, of course, but enough to make you better than you were before.

You were finishing the final paperwork for the next show. Costume designs, props, and the set ups all had to be finalized before you could release the advertisements. Sighing, you picked up your pen, ready to sign away.

“y/n?” a knock on the door followed, “I got you a little something from the boys.”

One of the stage crew held a grand bouquet of flowers, full of every color imaginable. A small thank you note was attached to it. You pouted, taking the flowers with a sniffle and a thank you.

Well they certainly have been appreciating you more. A big card slipped from the bottom of the bouquet, and you picked it up, reading;

check the bottom of your drawer, there’s a surprise for you. attached is a card for you to enjoy. thank you for planning the show for us. - sincerely, The Saja Boys p.s.(romance & abs) can we take you out to apologize? :( jinu hit us

You laugh, pressing the pink card to your heart. Taking the advice, you stroll to your desk, opening the bottom drawer to find a shirt saying, “The Saja Boys’ Best Manager”

“Oh I’m absolutely yours, truly guys.” you whisper, holding it dear to as you gasp at the gift card that slipped. “500 fucking dollars to Coffee Bean?! FUCK YES!!”

A row of smiles outside the door chuckled, oh they were glad you were back on your feet. “Shit, I gotta shit,” whispered one of them.

“She did warn you.”

work and rights belong to me, laurel.

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