Let's go with steamy headcannons for the demons shall we? Manager reader (no specified gender)🧍♀️🙌
Saja boys x gn!manager reader
Character/s: Jinu, Romance, Abby, Baby & Mystery
Character pairings: Jinu/you, Romance/you, Abby/you, Baby/you & Mystery/you
A/N: I wrote this purely out of boredom so don't come after me thanks 🥱🫰
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Jinu
• his gaze alone makes you shiver, it's dark, it's hot and it's unfiltered. Scary sometimes, glowing eyes observing you from what feels like everywhere all at the same time.
• He doesn't flirt, not directly anyway. He hunts- and you're his chosen prey. And he watches, even when you don't think he does. He watches everything with a sly smirk.
• He'd deliberately bump into you on set just to watch you flinch under his gaze. Lifting your chin up with his slender fingers making you stare at his mesmerizing eyes..
• Whispering things into your ear at completely random times just to watch your throat gulp down his words, making his absolute goal to have you shivering and completely under his mercy.
"You look at me like you're trying to decipher me, I can help with that..all you have to do, is say please"
• When you fix his mic pack backstage, your gaze and in turn your touch, lingers. And he noticed, of course he did..
"Don't start now angel, otherwise no one will be able to stop us."
• When helping around set, he walks up to you from behind, an arm wrapping around your waist as he hums "Your Idol" on the crook of your neck, whispering the line "I'll be your idol" like it's a declaration.
• ...yeah I don't know how you survived either
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Romance
• relentless, would not stop at a small reaction
• He wanted you to squirm, to feel so seen that every small action of yours would cause a reaction out of him
"you're so cute, ma..na..ger..-nim!"
• When you hand them their water bottles, he doesn't take his from your hand.
• He would instead place both hands around yours, cupping both your hand and the bottle, and lifting it all the way up to his mouth. Gulping it down like a parched man in the desert all while maintaining heavy eye contact with you.
• And to mess with you even more, he'd inch his face closer to yours, noses touching at some point.
• He'd lift your hand up, to wipe his jaw from the spilled water
"Ahhh kamsamnida~ I was so thirsty dear manager"
• He doesn't break eye contact as he kisses your palm before jogging to go back on stage.
• But of course, it wouldn't be romantic of him not to blow you, what feels like a very sensual, kiss! Followed by a teasing wink.
• You may or may not have collapsed under your knees
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Abby
• He's the type to flex when you’re mad, lean extra close when you're frustrated, and weaponize his body like it’s second nature.
• Because for him, it is.
• you walk in l, clipboard in hand only to drop it when you bump into.. abs.?
• you've learned not to question the peculiar idols anymore but before you could walk off, he holds you in place and keeps you trapped in his arms, squeezing ever so slightly to flex.
• and when you ask why his shirt is off
"It's humid in here" the AC is blasting..the staff are freezing
"well I have body heat, and I don't mind sharing if it's with you.."
• proceeds to flex like it's part of his job description to be fair it kinda is..
"like what you see? c'mon manager-nim I know you like it"
• Whenever you carry something remotely heavy looking, he's already by your side, grabbing at whatever despite your protests.
• "you really shouldn't carry heavy things like this manager.. don't worry, you'll have better use for your hands later"
• kisses your hand while maintaining eye contact and a growing smirk
• He walks off with a wink and a flex, the cocky smirk never leaving his face
• you definitely locked yourself in the bathroom or in the closet to avoid him a few times before..
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Baby
• He doesn’t tease loudly.
• He knows exactly how to get under your skin without lifting a finger.
• will absolutely grab your water bottle mid sip and take a long messy sip as well, handing it back to you with his famous baby like smile but a devilish glint in his eyes
His entire shtick is acting like he’s innocent while utterly destroying your composure in five seconds flat.
"what? I was thirsty" before walking away like it was a normal day at work
• would 100% open a lollipop he doesn't like, stick it in his mouth and take it out just to squeeze open your mouth and plop it in, already moving to grab a flavor he actually likes
"ah much better, right manager-nim?"
• Would go up behind you and cling to you like a cat, nuzzling every so often into your neck as you try to focus on work
• you pretended to be busy everytime they come back (back)stage
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Mystery
• He's an enigma
• He likes to randomly get behind you, breathing down your neck, sniffing you as if wanting to inhale- ravish every part of you.
• He doesn't speak no, but just the pace of his breath beating against the surface of your neck you can tell. He wants you. He wants to devour you, keep you all for himself. Like a dragon hoarding his treasure, and you are his.
• Would take any chance he could to wrap his arms around your waist just to feel your breath hitch and your body shiver.
• He would lick long wet stripes from your neck to the bottom of your ear, and when he's feeling extra possessive? He'd bite you, a nibble really.
Even as a human his canines remain sharp, sharper than most at least.
His bites rarely left a mark, because it's not his intention. But he could if he wanted to. He just wanted to make sure you know, that you're his, and him, yours
• you make sure to carry extra bandaids and restocked your concealer in case he did..
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A/N: can you tell i gave up on Baby's and Abby's parts?
Note: I might edit this even after posting so uh yeah
This is pt. 2 to saja boys with manager reader (implications of female bodied reader:))
Character/s: Jinu, Romance, Abby, Baby & Mystery
Character pairings: Jinu/you, Romance/you, Abby/you, Baby/you & Mystery/you
A/N: I'm so excited lmaoaoaooo, anywayyy enjoy the headcannons
Edit: I don't like how it turned out but it is what it is..
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Jinu:
Level 1-2:
• cocks his head to the side
• gives you a "are you serious?" face
Level 3-4
• "okay uncomfortable.. but nothing serious"
• nods like he's listening to philosophy
Level 5-6
• "okay this is- *grunt* annoying"
• there's a frown on his face (he's definitely biting his cheek 💀)
Level 7-8
• straight up flinches
• noticable strain in expression, avoids eye contact like it's gonna help
• and his breathing definitely got heavier
Level 9-10
•yelps but tries to play it off (like sir we all heard that...)
• moves his hands to his stomach
• "it's- ..manageable" (he's shaking and sweating through his shirt)
Final results:
• looks fine. IS NOT FINE..
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Romance:
Level 1-2:
• "Heh that tickles manager-nim~ this is gonna be easy"
• very confident
Level 3-4:
• "oh noo, it's unbearable! Won't you comfort me manager-nim?"
• writhes like he's in immense pain (drama queen)
Level 5-6:
• flinches
• "eughhkay this feels weird.."
• makes the 'who's smelly ahh fart is that?' face
Level 7-8:
• his face drops
• holds up a fist to his mouth with one hand
• "heh- did you perhaps skip a few levels dear manager.?" you did not
Level 9-10:
• bites his shirt as he slides to the floor
• his eyes are snapped SHUT and are those tears?-
• "Tell my fans I died gracefully.." I think he just passed out-
Final results:
• slumped over and pale
• still somehow looks like an overly (hot) broken hearted 2nd lead through it all;-;
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Abby:
Level 1-2:
• "....It feels like cotton balls are being thrown at my stomach, it seems you've severely underestimated my endurance manager-nim"
• cue a toothy smirk
• smug little f- sucker (hehe)
Level 3-4
• shifts in his seat
• his smirk is still in tact though
Level 5-6
• raises a brow and huffs but-
• "okay, I see how this can be annoying all day.."
Level 7-8
• clenching his shirt and grabbing at his sides hard enough to leave slight bruising
• *slight panic*
Level 9-10
• "...is this legal.?"
• definitely crying but still tries to look cool (he looks like a wet dog)
Final results:
• the most 'tame' reaction of the five
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Baby:
Level 1-2:
• "....are you sure you're not overreacting for sympathy manager-nim?"
• sighs and scoffs like this is an everyday thing
Level 3-4:
• tenses up like a cat that got splashed
• snaps a glare at you
Level 5-6:
• cradles his stomach like it's gonna help
• his knuckles are white from clenching his fist too tight
Level 7-8:
• tried to distract himself
• fails
• punches a pillow
Level 9-10:
• screams into the same pillow he punched
• "turn it off or I'll blow this place up.."
Final results:
• dazed
• looks like his soul flew out of his body
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Mystery:
Level 1-2:
• does not twitch
• his only reaction? A head tilt..
Level 3-4:
• "This feels like being hungry... but with a warning"
Level 5-6:
• "....interesting" his grip on the chair says otherwise
Level 7-8:
• full on flinch
• and i think he broke the chair-
Level 9-10:
• sharp intake of breath
• his head rolls back and his lip bleeds from how hard he's biting into it
Final results:
• completely still
• scares everyone thinking he died-
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A/N: characters may be ooc. And these are just how I think they'd react so it's definitely not perfect or accurate, but I tried to make it as accurate as I could;-;
PLOT: So here you are, the sweet little assistant to HUNTR/X. Not anything like Bobby, no. You’re the only human they let in on their secret of being hunters, and your job is to help them out the best you can. Fetching the weapons, patching up wounds, memorizing demon looking ppl, preferably without fighting because you’re ass at that. You’re smart, sweet, know what will the girls do next.
Which is exactly why the Saja Boys decided to kidnap your ass.
Oh, they still look like a wet dream, don’t get that twisted. But they deadass snatched you up because you know too much. You know how the girls work. You know where they’re going, what they’re planning, how to hurt them.
Except, you won’t talk. Not even when they tried. And oh, they tried. Little threats. Little games. Little moments that left bruises.
Now? You’re a guest in their fancy-fancy high-rise apartment in the human world that they have so they don’t have to go back and forth between worlds. More like their prisoner, but the fridge is stocked and you’re not chained anymore.
cw: implied female reader, kidnapping situation, a shit ton of cursing, Romance being a flirt, a boner, mentions of sex, Mystery being curious about your body, boys being boys and fucking with you
You stand at the sleek marble counter, a knife in your hand, slicing through a peach.
Behind you, Romance’s laugh fills the room, deep, as Mystery literally tackles him over the back of the couch. They hit the floor with a heavy thud, limbs tangled, and Mystery growls.
Romance? He’s grinning. Loving every second.
“Damn, if you wanted to get me on my back you could’ve just asked.” he purrs, voice smooth.
Mystery’s response is to sink his teeth—actually sink his teeth—into Romance’s shoulder.
“Fuck—ah, yes, harder!” Romance groans dramatically, shoving at Mystery’s face but clearly not trying to get him off.
You just keep cutting your peach, the juice sticky on your fingers.
Abby’s sprawled in an armchair, bouncing a stress ball off the wall hard enough you’re certain he’ll crack the plaster. He’s wearing a tank top that shows off his arms and his attention span is shot to shit. He’s been drumming his fingers, cracking his neck, muttering to himself about needing to do something.
Baby’s on the floor, cross-legged, looking at his phone what he grew to love so so so much since they figured it out. He actually looks like he has no idea what’s going on but doesn’t care anyway.
Jinu is in the kitchen, not far from you, sipping tea like none of this is happening. His hair’s still a little damp from a shower, and he looks… normal. Calm. Like he could be your neighbor, the guy who helps carry your groceries.
He notices you’re out of reach of the fruit bowl and slides it closer without a word.
“Thanks.” you mutter, not looking up.
Not forgetting that you fucking HATE his guts!!
“You’re welcome.”
And that’s the thing with Jinu. He’s nice. Too nice.
You slice another piece of peach. Try to pretend you don’t hear Romance moaning as Mystery bites him again.
Baby snorts quietly, still scrolling.
You just keep slicing fruit, silent, petty, waiting for the moment they let their guard down. Not happening.
Romance walks over eventually, leaning against the counter next to you. His scent hits you—fuck you in the ass it’s good. Why does it have to be good?
“Need help with that, angel?” he murmurs, voice like velvet, fingers brushing a piece of peach off your plate and popping it into his mouth.
You don’t look at him. “Fuck off.”
“Alrighty.”
He doesn’t move though.
Mystery, now perched on the arm of the couch, watches the two of you , you’d guess. You can’t see those fuckass eyes.
You remember the first meet.
God. The girls just finished, you gave them all the luxury they could ever need then went back to your apartment. Exhausted. Filthy. You got home, peeled off your clothes, stepped into that shower, and thought—finally. Finally, you could breathe.
Then, a bold whistle from behind you.
You turned your head, soap stinging your eyes, and there was….
Drumroll…
🥁🥁🥁
Romance.
Yes indeed, the fucker whistled.
You froze. Completely naked, completely vulnerable. He moved fast—too fast—hand over your mouth, body pressed up to the shower glass.
“Don’t scream. We’re just gonna have a little chat.”
You wanted to kick him. You really did. But he had you pinned, all casual, like this was just another Tuesday for him.
“Options.” he murmured, thumb stroking your cheek like he was trying to soothe you. “You tell me what I wanna know. Or—and I like this one better—I take you with me.”
You glared at him. You hated him.
(Since your girls did too and know he’s a demon but anyway)
But what could you do? Naked, trapped, outmatched. So you nodded. Let him hand you a towel. Let him grin when you dressed in whatever you could grab. Let him walk you out of your own damn apartment like he was your date for the night.
You snap back to now, slicing that peach a little too hard. The knife hits the cutting board with a sharp thunk.
Romance notices. Of course he notices. He always notices.
“Careful, baby. Gonna hurt yourself.” he teases, snagging another piece of fruit from your plate like he has every right.
You don’t answer. Just cut another slice, the peach juice sticky on your fingers.
Then there was the time you tried to run.
You’d waited until late. Until they were sprawled out, arguing over anything, distracted by their own bullshit. You’d crept to the door, so quiet. Almost made it.
Baby caught you. Not with strength. With a simple:
“Hm?”
And then Jinu was there. Calm. Closing the door gently. Taking your arm, leading you back.
“Don’t do that, okay?” he’d said, as if you’d just made a small mistake. Like it wasn’t a big fucking deal.
Romance had clapped you on the back when you were forced to sit back down. “A+ for effort, though.”
Slice. Slice. Another piece of peach.
Mystery’s watching you now. Not saying anything, just watching. His head tilted, into your direction.
You finish slicing the peach. Set the knife down.
Romance steals another piece, grinning at you over it.
Mystery growls under his breath at the whole thing.
Abby’s already forgotten about you, too busy flicking Baby’s ear to annoy him.
Jinu’s watching you quietly, you’d guess. Don’t give him the satisfaction of looking at him.
You remember that time you bit Romance.
God, the nerve of him. You were done—so done—with him always getting too close.
D-O-N-E.
That time, when he cornered you to get things out of you. “C’mon, angel, just tell me a little secret. Just one. I’ll owe you.” He’d said. “You’re so tense. I can help with that…”
And you just snapped. Lunged in and bit his arm as hard as you could.
And the fucker?
The fuck?
He winked at you.
Didn’t pull away. Didn’t cuss you out. Just grinned like you’d given him a gift. “Easy, girl.” he said, voice low, leaning in so close you could feel the heat of him. “Didn’t know you liked it rough.”
You wanted to scream. Instead, you glared and tried to yank free, and he let you—only because he felt like it. Not because you could have escaped him.
You organize the little peaches on your plate. They looked quite cute.
You tried to stand your ground once.
Told Abby to back off, to leave you alone. And what did he do?
He laughed. That easy, bright, warm laugh like you’d just told him a joke. Then he slung his arm around your shoulders and practically dragged you down the hall like you were his best bud.
“You’re funny as hell.” he said, ruffling your hair like you weren’t glaring daggers at him. “C’mon.”
Asshole.
“Where you think you’re going, superstar?” he’d teased last time, when you made it to the elevator and thought, for one sweet second, you were free.
You’d fought. Kicked. Swore.
And he’d just laughed, hoisting you up like you weighed nothing. Carried you back down the hall like you were some drunk friend at a party, not a prisoner.
“C’mon now. You know you’re not going anywhere. Let’s not make it weird.”
Baby shifts where he’s sitting, lazy as ever, glancing up from his phone just long enough to take a sassy look at you.
Then there was time they played good cop/bad cop on you.
Mystery had you cornered in the kitchen. Not even saying anything—just standing there, too close. You’d tried to sidestep him. He’d mirrored the move, blocking you without touching.
And then Romance walked in. All relaxed, all casual. Slid in between you and Mystery, arm around your waist like it was his right.
“Ease up.” he said to Mystery, but his hand tightened on your side. “She’s not gonna run. Are you, angel?”
You bite into a piece of peach now.
Or there’s the night you tried to lock yourself in a room.
Abby broke the door down. Just… busted it open like it was made of cardboard.
“Don’t do that, babe.” he said, happy af, picking you up like you weighed nothing and carrying you back to the main room. “You’re gonna make us feel bad, hiding like that.”
You’d pounded at his chest. Tried to fight.
And he’d just laughed again, so warm, so easy, like you were play-wrestling.
You put the cutting board back, close the cabinet a little too hard.
There are also mind games. Oh, the fucking mind games.
Like how Jinu always helps. Always so polite, so considerate. Slips a glass of water into your hand when you’re too angry to ask. Pulls out a chair for you. Puts a blanket over you when you fall asleep
(and yeah, you pretended to be asleep that time. sue you, you were cold).
And it gets in your head. Makes you second-guess your hate. Makes you wonder if maybe he’d let you go if you just asked nicely enough. Makes you forget, for a second, that he’s the one who seals the doors behind you.
Or how Baby never speaks to you unless it’s to cut you down.
That time you begged, just once, just quietly, just to Baby because the others were too busy fucking around, you asked him to help you slip out.
And he’d looked at you. Just looked. And smiled that tiny, mean smile of his.
“Cute that you think anyone here gives a fuck what you want.”
Yeah, when he doesn’t currently not give a fuck about what’s happening around him, this is what you’ll get of him. Allat pretty face is a waste, fr.
You wipe down the counter, scrubbing too hard, like you can erase their fingerprints from your space.
And Mystery.
Mystery, who’s so feral you almost thought you could use that. That maybe he was the weak link. That maybe his violence meant he didn’t care about the plan, that he’d let you go just to spite the others.
But no.
Like the time you tried to sneak a phone off the coffee table, thinking no one was looking.
Mystery had crossed the room in a blink, snatched it out of your hand, and grabbed your jaw so fast your ears rang.
His nails had pricked your skin. His breath had been hot, his growl low.
“Don’t.”
One word. That’s all. And then he let go like you were nothing. Like you didn’t even matter enough to punish.
You open the fridge, shove the plate in, close it again like the slam of the door can drown out the noise in your head.
You turn, walk closer to them in the living room so you look more genuine, sweet like sugar because you can’t help it. That’s just how you sound.
“Can I use the sauna?” you ask.
No one says anything for half a beat.
Jinu the asshole the FUCKING asshole hums. “In exchange for some information, you know. Tell us a thing or two.”
You groan. Actually groan. And before you can stop yourself, you do the tiniest, most frustrated little kick at the air. Just a flick of your foot, like you’re trying to shake off the annoyance. Just a little kick. Adorable, really. A stupid, tiny burst of frustration because this is so fucking unfair and they know it.
And that’s when Abby, quick, grabs your leg mid-kick.
“Gotcha.” he says, voice bright. And the worst part? He doesn’t even look at you. He’s already turned back to whatever dumb shit they’re talking about, your ankle resting in his grip.
And now you’re there, balancing on one foot, arms out a little to steady yourself.
“Abby—let go—!”
But he’s not paying you any mind. His fingers loose but firm around your ankle, like he could crush it if he felt like it, but he’s just holding it.
As if you’re some toy he forgot he was playing with. Fucking asshole.
Romance sees the opportunity immediately. He slides closer, slow, a finger tapping at your knee, then your thigh, all innocent and infuriating. “Look at you. One foot. So talented.”
You swat at him, trying to push him away, but that just makes him laugh.
Mystery, meanwhile, is staring at your leg. Head tilted, curious. Like he can’t decide if he wants to pounce on it or just… study it. It’s been a while since he’s seen a human girl this close. That’s obvious in the way his gaze lingers too long on the shape of your calf, the flex of your foot as you wobble.
Baby is absolutely checking out your ass.
Not even trying to hide it.
One glance over his phone, those eyes sliding down, a little smirk ghosting at the corner of his mouth before he looks back at his screen like he’s the innocent one here.
You hop a little, trying to tug your leg free, still balancing awkwardly. “Abby—seriously!”
But Abby just laughs, chatting with Jinu, your leg still in his grip.
Romance pokes at you again. This time at your side, grinning when you squirm. “Careful, sweetheart. You’ll fall and hurt yourself.”
You try to stomp your other foot, frustrated beyond words, but you’re already jumping on one leg, and that just makes all of them snicker.
“Abby!”
“Hmm?” His voice is unbothered, eyes still not on you. “Oh. Right. Forgot I was holding you.”
Liar.
“Nah, c’mon—tell us a secret.” Abby says.
You tug.
He doesn’t budge.
“Abby.” you hiss.
But it’s useless.
Romance pokes you in the side, fascinated by the way your curves move.
“Stop it—” you try to swat at him, but you’re too busy trying not to fall flat on your ass.
Romance laughs, brushing your hand aside easily. His fingers brush your free ankle lightly, just to mess with you, and you nearly lose your balance again.
“Seriously, let go.” you snap, hopping on your one foot, trying to twist free.
But Abby’s grip is firm, not tight enough to hurt, just impossible to break.
He still isn’t looking at you. Instead, he’s grinning at Romance. “Hey, look at this—” he lifts your foot slightly, turning it in his hand like he’s inspecting it “—her foot’s like half the size of yours.”
Romance, of course, is lining his foot up next to yours while you’re still caught there, balancing. His grin is all teeth. “Tiny.” he says, delighted.
You’re burning up with embarrassment now, face hot, heart pounding for all the wrong reasons. You’re jumping a little, trying to shake your foot loose, but all it does is make Romance poke at you more, fingers brushing your calf, your ankle, your side.
“Stop it!” you snap, swatting at him, but you can’t even aim right on one foot.
Baby doesn’t even hide it anymore. He leans back, arms crossed, eyes flicking between your legs, your ass, your face, enjoying every second of this humiliation.
“Alright, c’mon now.” Abby says, finally glancing at you. “Give us a little intel, and you can go steam yourself all you want.”
You’re about to lose your balance for real—arms flailing slightly, heel of your standing foot sliding on the polished floor—when finally, finally, Jinu’s voice cuts through the mess.
“You can use the sauna.” he says simply, with a small nod, like it should’ve been obvious all along.
“There you go, superstar.” Abby lets go, laughing under his breath as if this was all in good fun. You stumble, catch yourself on the couch, heart pounding, face flushed.
Romance grins, hands up like he’s innocent. “See? All you had to do was ask.”
Baby smirks, looking back down at his phone as if he wasn’t just ogling you.
Mystery sinks back onto the couch arm, still watching, but at least he isn’t about to lunge anymore.
You straighten, brushing your hands down your sides, trying to regain a scrap of dignity.
“Thanks.” you mutter, shooting a glare at the rest of them before turning on your heel and heading toward the sauna.
Romance leans back, hands up like he’s innocent. “Enjoy yourself, angel.”
Baby gives you one last look, and Mystery’s head follows you until you’re out of reach.
You huff, fixing your clothes, dignity in shambles as you stomp toward the sauna.
God, you hate them.
God, they’re fucking hilarious.
God, you hate that you almost laughed too.
Alright, so there you are. Finally. Finally in the sauna.
You thought maybe—maybe—you could steal this one small victory. After all the shit they put you through, the teasing, the games, the constant pushing and pulling, you’d gotten away.
The heat envelops you, thick, fogging up the glass as you sit there, knees tucked up, towel clutched tight to your chest.
Your heartbeat’s just starting to slow. Your breathing evens out. The sweat begins to bead at your temples, trickle down your neck, and for a blissful minute, you think:
peace.
And then.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
You freeze. Eyes snap to the glass door.
Abby and Romance.
Side by side, standing just outside the sauna with the most shit-eating grins you’ve ever seen.
And god help you,
they’re in nothing but towels.
Romance has his slung low on his hips, arms crossed behind his head. Like he knew what this would do to you. His eyes meet yours through the steam, and his grin somehow widens.
Abby’s hitched up carelessly at his waist, and he’s leaning against the glass with both hands, forehead pressed against it, breathing patterns making little clouds on the surface.
And because he’s Abby and he’s got no shame, he leans in further until his abs are smushed up against the glass too, leaving perfect imprints of his ridiculous physique.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Romance’s knuckle on the door this time, slow and rhythmic, like they’ve got all the time in the world.
These bastards have nothing but time. And you? You’re the best entertainment they’ve had in centuries. Three hundred years of whatever suffering Gwi-ma put them through, until you.
And you can tell. You can see it in their faces, the way they’re lit up like kids on Christmas morning. The way they’re making a game out of this. The way they’re not just keeping you prisoner, they’re enjoying every second of it, like you’re their favorite new toy.
“Baby girl.” Romance calls, voice muffled through the glass, drawing the words out like a slow melody. He knocks again, forehead resting against the glass, leaning down a little so his eyes are level with yours. “Come on. Don’t be like that.”
(Guys I don’t mean baby girl in a weird way I promiseeeee)
Abby starts whining. Full-on whining, dragging out the vowels like he’s the one being tortured here.
“Pleeeaaaseee. Let us in. Don’t hog all the steam. You know it’s rude.”
Your grip on your towel tightens. You shake your head, glaring, but that just seems to make them more determined.
Romance is flattening his palms against the glass, leaning his weight forward, so casual.
“C’mon, sweetheart.” he purrs. “It’s not safe to sauna alone. What if you pass out? What if you get too hot?” His voice drops lower, dripping with mock concern. “We’d hate for something bad to happen to you.”
You point at them through the foggy glass. “Stay out.”
They’re having the time of their lives.
Abby’s face is smushed against the door now, nose flattened, grinning so hard you can see the crinkle of his eyes even through the fog. He slides down slightly so his chest presses up too, leaving an actual print on the glass that you’re sure you’ll see in your nightmares.
“Come oooonnnn.” he drags out, hands sliding down the glass with exaggerated despair. “It’s lonely out here. It’s cold.”
“Yeah.” Romance chimes in, knocking his knuckles lightly again, rhythm playful. “So cold. We’re shivering.”
Neither of them looks the least bit cold. They look like gods, golden and gleaming in the low light, all muscle.
Abby presses his forehead right next to Romance’s, their faces squished together, two idiots united in their mission to annoy the living shit out of you. His abs are still plastered to the glass, leaving sweaty smudges in their shape.
Romance starts dragging out words like he’s dying of heartbreak. “Weeeee just waaaant to reeeelaaax.”
And then, before you can stop it, the door creaks open.
Romance’s hand is already on the handle. Abby’s pushing through behind him, grinning.
“You—” you start, clutching your towel tighter, scooting back like that’s going to help.
Romance plops down way too close, towel barely clinging on, stretching his long legs out. He leans back, hands braced behind him, turning his head to look at you with that maddening, lazy smile.
Abby flops down on your other side, sighing like he’s just found heaven, spreading out. He stretches his arms up, rolls his shoulders, all muscle.
“This is much better.” Abby says cheerfully.
“Yeah.” Romance agrees, eyes glinting with as he studies you, watching the way you clutch your towel like it’s the only thing saving your dignity. “See? Cozy.”
You glare at them both, heart hammering so loud you’re sure they can hear it over the hiss of the steam.
“You could’ve waited.” you mutter, trying to inch away without actually standing and risking… well, anything.
Romance leans in slightly, close enough that you can see the bead of sweat trailing down his temple, the curve of his smirk.
Then, these assholes giggle.
Giggle.
Big, strong, terrifying demons who could rip a man apart in seconds, sitting on either side of you, legs sprawled, water dripping down their ridiculously perfect bodies—and giggling like schoolgirls who just found a crush’s diary.
Romance leans forward, glancing at Abby, his grin wide and boyish and so fucking irritating. His hair’s still damp, little droplets sliding down the sharp line of his jaw, catching in the hollow of his throat before disappearing below that towel hanging far too low on his hips.
Abby snorts, eyes crinkling, that same big, bright grin that makes it impossible to stay mad at him for long—no matter how much you want to. He’s got one arm thrown over the back of the bench.
“I feel relaxed already.” Abby teases, voice low and warm.
And the giggling starts again. Little bursts of it, like they can’t believe their luck.
You press your back against the wall, eyes narrowed, clutching your towel so hard you might leave permanent wrinkles in the fabric. You feel the heat rising higher in your cheeks now, but it’s not from the sauna.
Because they’re close. So close you can feel the heat coming off them, not just the sauna’s heat but theirs. Like being caught between two furnaces.
Fuck them.
And they’re not just sitting there politely, minding their business. Oh no. Their gazes slide over you, undressing you with their eyes without a single ounce of shame.
Romance lets his gaze drop, lazily, from your flushed face to the slope of your shoulders, down the curve of your towel-clad body, he’s imagining exactly what’s under there. He doesn’t even try to hide it.
His mouth quirks up at the corner like he’s thoroughly enjoying the view.
Abby’s no better. His eyes trace you all the same. Like he’s taking mental snapshots, adding to whatever collection of moments he’s tucking away for the next time he’s bored at 3 a.m.
And it’s not subtle.
They’d hit that. No question. In a heartbeat.
Hell, Romance would have you against the sauna wall the second you blinked yes—if you blinked yes. The man has no shame. His lust, so open, so easy, it’s like breathing to him.
But that’s the thing about Romance—he knows the difference. Knows the difference between wanting to get you under him and wanting something real.
And somehow, that second thing? That’s creeping in now, too.
It’s not just the game anymore. Not just the fun of teasing you, seeing how red they can make you go, seeing how long they can keep you flustered before you snap.
It’s that you feel different.
You’re not like the other fleeting amusements they’ve found across centuries of boredom and bloodshed. You’re not just a pretty face they can toy with until it breaks.
You’re the most fun they’ve had in so long they’ve almost forgotten what fun is.
It’s growing. Quietly, steadily, in between all the teasing.
Romance, for all his shameless flirting, knows it too. His desire’s loud, sure, but this other feeling? This is different. It’s not about the chase, or the win, or the thrill of the moment. It’s about the way his heart kicks up when you roll your eyes at him, when you snap back, when you don’t fold.
And Abby? He’s the same. He laughs and plays and pokes, but somewhere in the cracks, something real’s settling in.
Something that isn’t just about keeping entertained.
You’re fun. You’re alive.
And in their endless stretch of centuries, that’s fun.
Because now, it’s not just about keeping you around for what you know.
Now, it’s about keeping you around because they want you around.
All those feelings for them, while just now, you had enough. Enough.
So you stand.
You push yourself up off the bench, clutching your towel, heart pounding, cheeks blazing, ready to make your exit.
But the second you straighten, the second you think you’ve reclaimed a scrap of dignity, Abby decides otherwise.
Big, warm hands catch your wrist and waist at once, and before you can so much as yelp, he drags you right back down into his lap.
“Ah-ah. Where you goin’, babe?” he says, voice all smooth, like you’re a kitten trying to escape bath time. His grin’s wide, eyes sparkling with that boyish light that makes you want to slap him and maybe kiss him just to wipe it off his face.
And there you are—your much smaller frame hauled back against him, towel still clutched to your chest, your legs draped awkwardly over his, skin burning where it meets his.
You squirm.
You kick and wiggle and slap at his arms, trying to peel yourself free, but it’s like fighting a brick wall that laughs at you.
“Let me go!” you snap, voice high with frustration, but you might as well be shouting at the wind.
Because Abby’s laughing now. Genuinely laughing, head tipped back a little, like this is the funniest shit he’s seen in decades.
Romance is no better. He’s doubled over, palm slapping the bench, laughing so hard he can barely breathe. That rich, boyish sound fills the sauna, echoing off the wood, making your cheeks burn hotter.
You kick again, trying to shove at Abby’s chest, trying to slide off his lap, but he’s holding you tight, like it’s nothing.
Abby leans in a little, his grin crooked now, voice low and warm, the kind of tone that makes you want to hide.
“You’re makin’ this real hard for me, sweetheart.” he says, and there’s no mistaking the double meaning.
Your heart lurches.
And, oh—you feel it. You definitely feel it.
Right there, under you.
A huge fucking boner.
And instead of stopping—instead of being sensible—you kick more. You squirm harder. Your face is on fire, but you’re determined to break free, determined to make him pay for putting you in this position, even if it’s making everything so much worse.
Abby groans low in his throat, but it’s laced with laughter, like he knows exactly what you’re doing and loves it. Loves that you’re trying. Loves that you’re flustered and mad and completely powerless.
Romance is laughing so hard he can’t sit upright, folding over himself, practically wheezing, tears streaming down his cheeks, pointing at you both like he can’t believe how lucky he is to witness this.
You give one more valiant wiggle, slap at Abby’s arm, and finally—finally—he lets go. Though maybe because he’s too worked up to keep playing
“Alright, alright.” he says, laughing, lifting his hands in surrender. “You win, babe. Go on.”
You shoot up like your life depends on it, clutching your towel so tight your fingers ache, hair sticking to your sweaty forehead, chest heaving. You glare down at both of them, cheeks blazing, trying to regain a shred of dignity.
Abby is the picture of innocence now. One leg up to hide his hard on, arms draped across the back of the bench, looking for all the world like he’s just a guy enjoying a sauna and not someone who just very nearly got dry-humped into oblivion by a squirming, furious human girl.
But of course, the second you’re upright, Romance leans forward, grinning wickedly, fingers grabbing for the edge of your towel.
“Just one little peek.” he says, and his hand shoots out, fingers hooking the edge of your towel.
You shriek, twisting away just in time, slapping his hands, stumbling toward the door. The towel stays on—thank god—but barely.
Romance collapses back onto the bench, grinning, breathless from laughing.
“Worth a shot.” he teases, voice low and sinful. “Next time, angel.”
You don’t look back. You can’t. You’re too busy marching toward the door, heart hammering, body burning, swearing to yourself you’ll never trust a sauna again.
And behind you, the sound of their laughter chases you all the way out.
You storm out of that sauna, towel clutched so tight it’s a wonder you haven’t shredded it by sheer force of will. Your heart’s hammering in your chest, skin blazing from more than just the steam, and you’re done. Done with Abby’s lap. Done with Romance’s bullshit. Done with them probably high fiving each other as you’re walking. Done with all of it.
You stomp barefoot across the marble floors, steam still rising from your skin, water droplets trailing behind you.
And then you hit the living room.
Jinu’s perched on the edge of the couch, looking every bit the composed, gentlemanly demon he always pretends to be—except for the fact that his eyes widen ever so slightly at the sight of you. His lips twitch at the corners, like he’s trying not to smile.
“You went in there with clothes on.” he says, voice mild. “I’m pretty sure of it.”
You don’t even slow down. You wave a hand at him, dismissive, furious, embarrassed beyond belief but way too stubborn to show it.
“Not now, Jinu.”
“Just pointing it out.” he says, and you can hear that gentle, teasing lilt in his voice now that somehow makes it worse. Like he’s the only one in this house capable of being nice to you, but he still can’t help poking at you when you’re like this.
You glance down just in time to see Mystery crouched slightly, head tilted, attention fixed on the hem of your towel.
His hand twitches, like he’s fighting the urge to just lift it and satisfy his curiosity.
“Mystery—”
You swat at him, fast, instinctive. Like shooing off a cat who’s about to knock over a glass.
He tries again.
“Mystery or whatever your fucking name is!”
Your voice pitches higher. You swat at him again, and this time he dodges.
Baby’s watching the whole thing from the arm of the couch, shoulders shaking as he laughs quietly.
You and Mystery keep up this ridiculous dance—him darting, trying to sneak a look, you batting him off.
Every time you think you’ve shaken him, he circles back around, silent, predatory.
“Mystery, stop it!” you hiss, stomping your foot, cheeks burning so hot you’re sure they must be glowing.
He actually listens. Pulls back just a bit, but not before giving you this tilt of his head—this weird, almost innocent curiosity, like he really, genuinely wants to know what’s up there. Not because he’s trying to be a creep. Just because he’s Mystery.
He leans back, hands up, like he was just wondering, like you can’t blame a guy for being curious.
You tug your towel tighter, shooting him a glare that promises violence if he tries it again.
Baby just tips his head back and laughs, soft and delighted.
You storm the rest of the way across the living room, muttering curses under your breath, knowing full well this won’t be the last time they pull this shit.
Because why would it be?
You’re the best fun they’ve had in centuries.
You slam the door to your room shut with more force than necessary, your heart still thundering in your chest.
The room’s quiet now. Blessedly quiet.
You take a deep breath, forcing your legs to move, crossing to the dresser where they’d dumped your things they got from there and there. You let the towel drop, pulling on fresh clothes.
But as you tug your shirt down and run a hand through your damp hair, the questions start creeping in.
Will you ever get out of here?
…Maybe.
You want to believe it. That there’s a crack in their plan, a way to slip past their too-quick hands. That somehow, the girls will come for you. That you’ll find your moment and take it. But looking at how they watch you, how they enjoy keeping you close? It’s hard to be sure.
Do the girls miss you?
Yes.
They have to. You’re not just some assistant with a clipboard and a coffee order. You’re the one who kept them safe, who watched their backs when they were too busy saving the world to watch their own. They have to notice you’re gone. Right?
Do the boys actually like you as a person?
Yes.
And that’s the most confusing part. Because it’s not just the teasing, the poking, they see you. Under all the sweet voice, the petty little kicks, the glares and the stubbornness, they see you. And somehow, they like what they see.
Is Romance always trying to get in your pants?
Yes.
But he also respects the game. And maybe, just maybe, he likes more than just what’s under your clothes.
Does Abby really think you’re cute when you fight him off?
Yes.
You see it in his smile, in the way his eyes soften when you kick and squirm and glare up at him.
Is Baby secretly rooting for you?
Absolutely so fucking yes.
He won’t say it. Won’t even crack more than that smirk. But you catch it, sometimes—in the tilt of his head, in the glint of his eye. He enjoys you. Enjoys watching you give them hell.
Is Mystery curious about you in ways he doesn’t understand?
Indeed.
It’s in every glance, every tilt of his head, every quiet lean-in. You’re new, he likes it.
Does Jinu really care?
Yeah.
The only one who treats you normally. The one who talks to you like you’re a person. The one who always seems to step in right before the others push you too far.
Are you actually safe here?
No.
Not really. Not from their games, their teasing, their endless curiosity about what makes you break. Not from the way they make your heart race, in anger or fear or something more dangerous you don’t want to name.
Are you in danger of falling for them, even a little?
…Maybe.
You flop onto the bed, staring at the ceiling, clothes rumpled and hair still damp, wondering how the hell you’re going to survive this. Wondering how you’re going to keep yourself from softening toward them when they look at you like that, when they laugh like that, when they treat you like this.
Will you ever stop hoping for a chance to escape?
No.
Not ever. Not even if they keep making you laugh when you shouldn’t. Not even if they’re the most fun you’ve ever had.
You’re getting out.
Somedays
But god—if they don’t make it hard to want to leave.
You lay there on that stupid, too-nice bed, staring up at the ceiling, the city lights leaking in through the blinds, casting stripes across your skin. And you think—fuck.
Because damn your empathy.
You should hate them. Every single one of them. For snatching you away from your life. For laughing at you when you fight back. For treating you like a kid. You should be plotting their downfall, hating the sound of their voices, the way they look at you, the way they keep you here.
But you don’t. Not really. Not deep down where it matters.
Because it hits you, lying there with your heart still racing and your body still warm from the sauna
They probably don’t know any better anymore.
It’s probably been hundreds of years since they had anything like this. Since they saw their mothers. Since they were boys, real boys, not demons, playing at being human on a stage with bright lights and screaming fans.
When was the last time they got tucked in at night, you wonder. When was the last time somebody made them soup when they were sick?
When was the last time they did human shit?
Jumped on a trampoline, if they ever had done that.
Had a snowball fight.
Built a fort and camped out in it.
Splashed each other in a pool until they were breathless with laughter, not because they were trying to drown each other but just because it was fun.
Ran barefoot through wet grass on a summer night, chasing bugs.
Sat on a rooftop with their best friend, eating about the future like it was some big, beautiful thing waiting for them.
The last time someone baked them a birthday cake and sang to them, even off-key?
God, when was the last time they had that?
You think about Romance, all charm and heat, with that constant flirt in his voice—when was the last time someone kissed him because they loved him, not because they were enchanted by his face?
You think about Abby, always teasing, strong enough to crush you but never does—when was the last time someone hugged him just because?
Baby, with not giving a fuck at anything—when was the last time someone gave him something with no strings attached?
Mystery. Ferocious, curious—when was the last time he felt safe enough to just exist?
Jinu. The only one who looks at you like you’re still a person, like maybe he remembers what it felt like to be one, too—when was the last time someone sat with him in silence, not because they wanted something but just because they liked him?
And you feel that damn softness bloom in your chest, that aching empathy that’s going to get you killed or worse.
Because you don’t blame them. Not really.
They’re lonely.
Lonely in a way you can’t even imagine, in a way that sinks into your bones and makes you hungry for anything real.
You’re not just a hostage, not really—not to them. You’re a spark of humanity in their endless dark, and they don’t want to let go.
And yeah, it’s selfish. It’s cruel, in its way. But can you really hate them for it?
Can you hate them for wanting to keep you close when the world left them behind centuries ago?
You sigh, dragging a hand down your face, trying to shove the thoughts away, trying to remind yourself—they kidnapped you. They’re using you. They’re playing with you because it entertains them.
But still.
You see the way they look at you when they think you’re not paying attention.
You see the way they light up when you kick back, when you glare, when you curse them out, when you fight—because maybe you’re the first thing in forever that’s real to them.
And goddamn it, you understand.
You don’t forgive. Not yet. Maybe not ever. But you understand.
Boys who laugh too hard when you fight them off because they don’t know how else to show they like you.
Hello my friend; I just came across your account so I wanted to say that I love your stories and everything! I also wanted to know if you are doing any stories requests or anything?✨💋🪻🥳🌊🏝️🫰🏾🍱💯🍇✨
Yes yes dear I am! I'm really only taking k-pop dh related requests and asks as of right now, but i wouldn't mind trying to write for other fandoms if it's within my range. But I mainly do headcannons and oneshots since I'm not that confident in my full fics. (ㆁωㆁ)
But if you have any ideas I'd love to try and write them out for you!! (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧
Saja boys w/ fem manager reader who explains periods to them;
Character/s: Jinu, Romance, Abby, Baby & Mystery
Character pairings: Jinu/you, Romance/you, Abby/you, Baby/you & Mystery/you
A/N: Characters may be ooc, writing style might be messy and just me rambling really
Find pt 2 here:P
─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──
Jinu:
• “So the uterus just... peels??”
• simply short circuits, he's kinda loser coded from how flustered he gets tbh-
• has to sit down and process what you just said
• will try to act nonchalant and tease you but when you glare at him he's sat there like- 🫥
• he's not sure how to react, bc on one hand he's absolutely baffled by how the female human body works but pretty impressed at how you're not dying on the spot
• (spoiler alert- you are)
• does not know what to do or how to help
• will try to lower your work load just a little by keeping the boys in check and not disturbing you
• for the sake of your sanity and their safety and world domination he will try to help you the best he can
• when you snap at him he just rolls his eyes at you, but hands you a heat compress when he passes by you again.
• you eventually snap at someone else and threaten to throw their stuff out the window
• he walks on eggshells around you from then on
─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──
Romance:
• “Wait… you bleed every month and don’t die?”
• "that's kinda hot"
• the man who looks like he's Wattpad cringey men incarnate find out what happens during your period? ('m kidding he's one of my faves)
• cue the disbelief.
• he thought bleeding meant fatal injury — now you’re telling him it happens on purpose?
• "you are one strong woman manager-nim.."
• wait till he finds out about your hormonal spikes..😟
• he's genuinely confused and lowk worried at how you endure cramps based on your description of them
• a little sht through and through tho, will not stop teasing and flirting with you either way
• "Would you like me to kiss it better-" *smack* "-worth it"
• you snap at him? He's quiet for a second but smirks and says
• "that's kinky.. scream at me more-"
• but when you physically have to lean on something bc your cramps are that bad, he will show a lil bit of empathy and rub your back for comfort
• and holds back on teasing until you feel better (almost fails like separate 3 times)
─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──
Abby:
• “You okay? Need me to fight your uterus?”
• no bc he would if he could
• actually tries- until you smack him upside the head
• does zero damage to him but stops trying for now
• curious as to how painful cramps actually are
• still thinks you're over exaggerating abt the pain but won't push you (you threaten him with smth. what you ask? no clue either.. but he stops so a win is a win ig)
• respects u a little more bc of it
• honestly..lemme get a nibble of those shoulders and then we'll talk-
• for real tho- with enough pain induced persuasion (from you obv) he will reluctantly happily let you bite him if the cramps get too bad
• again no damage done to him whatsoever;-;
• "Is this an excuse to get a taste of my beautiful muscles? If so.. manager-nim there's no need for one"
• offers you his abs to use as a pillow
─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──
Baby:
• “I’m just gonna... not think about that.”
• does not wanna think about it
• fails
• will plug his ears and just la-la-la his way out
• definitely judges you and your cravings
• side eyes you when they're particularly weird
• he's not necessarily cruel abt it but is either immature or embarrassed.. or both
• does slowly evolve into sympathy with the right education (manager-nim? More like seonsaengnim teacher)
• eventually gets curious at how you function normally
• “manager-nim can't you just plug it? Like a cork? Using those tampoon thingies?"
• "how bout I put a cork in your mouth instead-"
• cue you mid-breakdown trying to explain how tampons work and how they can't just be shoved inside forever
─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──
Mystery:
• “How do you not get mad at your own uterus..?”
• will stare at you with the most bewildered frown you can imagine from just seeing his mouth bro is almost impossible to read..💔
• immediately goes into a spiral of mental questions and stands there like 🧍
• frown deepens as he thinks about how much energy you have to use to do day to day activities while in constant pain..
• most likely imagining how painful it feels and his hair physically deflates at the thought..
• pokes at your lower abdomen like he's trying to decipher ancient text
• will growl at you if you try to sass him bro literally barked at a fan wdym he doesn't have undiscovered anger issues??
• he apologizes by massaging your hand later on
• will lay on your lap if you ask beg and become your personal heating pad
• the listener to your yapper frfr
• probably falls asleep mid yap but you wouldn't know, his eyes are literally nonexistent to you..
─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──
Sorry if it's not that good it's my first time writing headcannons for these gremlins so m sorry if they're pretty ooc, specially since we (I) don't know much in general abt them at all.
But I'm tryna improve with every fic:^
Constructive criticism is appreciated.
And asks/requests are open:)
Thanks for reading!!!
(credits for the original divider post bc idk if it's F2U)
open up what you got in your mind to me. [pt.1 – huntrix]
they've never met someone like you — a mortal who almost knew them .. better than they knew themselves. for the boys, it's annoyingly intriguing. for the girls, it's comforting.
paring(s): huntrix & saja boys x demon expert!gn!reader
warning(s): some movie changes, probably effected lore that makes no sense for the sake of the narrative
request: here ! this is part 1 – i loved it so much i had to make 2 parts hehe ,,, part 2 is here !
your family worked with the demon hunters for generations – mortals who studied the demons, found their strengths and weaknesses, worked as field researcher on demonology alongside the hunter to keep the honmoon safe.
unfortunately, your ancestors were unpowerful beyond their intellect and aura vision. physically, they were weak – protected only by the hunters. becayse of this, there was .. an accident. the demons found the weaknesses of the hunters – their darling researchers, so they did what demons would do.
thousands of years of pages and books and studies were lost in their attack. most information was mentally stored by hunters, but a substantial amount was still lost in physical ink. in modern times, these researchers are almost myths to hunters – legends. however, mythology tales say that the descendents of the researchers have all knowledge of the honmoon and the demons sealed away by it. of course, it remained apart of the stories celine told rumi, mira, and zoey growing up ... all until they met you.
they met you at a hidden pastry shop in seoul, hidden in an alleyway around the same area as that wack doctor zoey had so much faith in
it was the only place open after practice and rumi, as tired as she was, guided the girls in to enjoy the warm lighting and atmosphere
after declining the offers to go to the bathhouse for the 100th time, she thought this could be the perfect way to make it up to them
she ordered a few treats – mochi for herself, a little apple pie for zoey, steamed red bean buns for mira, and matcha for them all
the girls talked quietly, waiting for their order, until you called rumi up to retrieve the neatly wrapped box of sweets
when she came up to you, your fingers wrapped around her wrist, cold and startling
"i'm not sure how you got in here..", her eyes met yours, now void of the warmth you once held when she walked in, "but if a demon is ordering pastries from me, times must have changed." she shuttered under your hushed voice.
"d-demon...?" her skin was fully covered. even though her markings hadn't spread too far yet, she took precautions regardless, worried of the news that might ruin her relationships.
"i noticed your aura when you sat down. though, you don't seem that threatening... and the honmoon is completely intact aroun–"
"how do you..?" her eyes shook, almost pure horror behind them. there's tension between you two, fueled by her anxiety of being seen, of being exposed when her members were just right by the door. you studied her, her friends, and their auras alike, before you half smiled at her.
"my ancestors and yours were... very close." your voice rose, catching the attention of the pink and black haired girls. "do hunters not teach about researchers anymore?"
the three of them surrounded you quickly, eyes bright and curious
things like "we thought they were myths!!" and "you know about the honmoon!?" were thrown at you immediately
you debunked their mythology left and right, spending an hour after closing chatting with them
they felt.. seen? YOU felt seen!
you could finally talk to others about your aura vision and they could FINALLY get their hunter secrets off their chest
maybe it wasn't the best idea to spill it all in such a public place but who else would listen ?
celine got a very chaotic phone call later that night
and you? you got an invite to a luxurious penthouse and a few new friends
since then, you've helped them immensely
your memory was working like an endless library of information
you'd show them old diagrams your greatest great great great great grandparents had tucked away
discuss old journals that survived the attacks that became family heirlooms
told them fun facts about demons
especially to zoey, who seemed very intrigued by the fact that all demons had a weak spot in their chests due to their lack of personal souls
even, eventually, helped rumi tell the girls about her marks
zoey and mira were stunned in silence. rumi's arms were exposed, hands shaking in anxious terror, but you were right by her side. celine told her to always hide them but .. you understood. you accepted her mere minutes after meeting her. maybe the girls would do the same.
"rumi is.. something fascinating." you admitted. it sounded blunt, but you expressed it with a look of soft excitement. "she has mixed blood – the marks of a demon, the voice, soul, and heart of a hunter. she's never once lied about the kindness of her heart... the traits of hunters overpower any demon urges." you spoke for rumi as she stood there, feeling naked and scared under the judging eyes of her closest friends. "she's a pure experiment – but she's no less rumi. her aura proves that."
it took a few hours of conversations, explanations from both you, the expert, and her, the secret holder, but eventually, zoey and mira engulfed her in a hug – promising to keep the secret contained between the four of you. not even telling celine, in case she got them all in trouble. the golden honmoon was so close.. they'd be able to do this together, especially now that they have you.
during the events of the movie, they needed you a lot
but the last thing they wanted was a repeat of the accident
so they kept you their secret weapon ! working with you behind the scenes and away from the actual action
when the saja boys grabbed everyone's attention with their beautiful bodies and alluring voices, you were staring at their markings, especially at the joint fansigning they held
jinu noticed you about as much as he noticed bobby – just another person on staff
that is until he noticed how you stared at him
not ogling, but studying,, writing things down in the notebook you carried, covered in huntrix stickers
be lucky he noticed you over baby or mystery, otherwise you may have been targeted by their powers to throw you and huntrix off
he asked about you to rumi once .. the "mysterious person" on their staff that "always wrote in that notebook"
she was more worried about your safety than opening up to him but .. she thought..
if you helped her reveal herself to huntrix, maybe you could help jinu and the saja boys ?
they never expressed wanting help but she couldn't help but think about it
you hopped on board with her plan in secret, working on ways out of their servitude to gwima
it took a while but you figured that if you could channel your aura vision and hold them above the honmoon when it sealed, they could be healed of their marks too, human disguises left in tact.
it was only a matter of time before you tried it out.
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