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You were having a very pleasant dream about something. It was one of those dreams you knew was good but only lasted long enough until the moment you woke up.

And that moment came very quickly. In the form of burnt food.

With a gasp, you jolted out of bed and raced to the kitchen where the smoky odor was strongest and the cacophony of voices grew louder.

“That’s not how you’re supposed to—”

“Yes it is, give me—” and then a resounding clang as something fell. Most likely.

When you stepped into the kitchen, Abby’s bright smile was the first to find you. “Hummus!” came his way of greeting.

“Hummus?” Muttered Jinu as he straightened up, a greasy pan in one hand and judging by the cracked shells on the counter, the sad, charred remains of eggs in the other. “Oh, hey,” he said when he spotted you before turning to his pink-haired companion, saying. “It’s human, Abs. Hummus is a vegetable.”

“Oh, rightrightrigthrightright. The Hume. G’morning!”

“Hope you don’t mind us borrowing the stove for a bit.” Jinu barely looked at you as he tightened his apron around himself. It was the one you’d recently purchased online after a few cocktails — a white apron with “Trophy Wife” written in elegant, pink script.

“For?” You croaked weakly and immediately heading to the fridge to grab yourself a glass of cool water, when a pair of strong arms wrapped around your waist.

“Good morning, sunshine,” Romance cooed in your ear as he nuzzled the crook of your neck, his hair tickling your nose and making you sneeze. “You smell good tod—hey!”

Romance’s arms disappeared as quickly as they came, just as Mystery literally appeared out of nowhere in front of you. But his greeting was immediately drowned out as you took the proffered mug of coffee.

“Oh, my God,” you gasped, immediately taking a sip—then discreetly spitting it back into the mug. It tasted like dirt.

You glanced at Mystery then, about to ask where, how and with what he made this coffee with, but if you squinted, a corner of his lips was pulled up. The barest hint of a smile. 

So instead, you returned his grin. “Thank you.”

A flash of blue caught your eye as Baby enters the kitchen. Like the others, he was dressed in the pajamas you’d been lending them since they “arrived.” Nothing too special—just an assortment of old, baggy clothes that never fit. But somehow, Baby had gotten himself a prettier set of matching, pink PJs. 

Baby didn’t even spare them a glance, going straight for the fridge and pulling out your last carton of milk before heading back out again, but not before saying, “Your coffee tastes like shit, Z.”

Immediately came a chorus of:

“Don’t listen to him.”

“Baby, come back here you little shit!”

“You’re very thoughtful, Z.”

“Baby Saja, no phone for the rest of the day!”

“…it does need a little sugar,” muttered Mystery.

For several moments, no one spoke. In the silence, you debated wether to take another sip. Just a tiny bit. Sure, your insides would wither, but it would only be for a few seconds, and the taste would probably be ingrained in your mind for the rest of your mortal life, but seeing Mystery like a deflated balloon…

With a sigh, you lifted the mug to your lips, even as you could feel your throat closing in on itself. But one look at the awed expression on Mystery’s face hardened your resolve.

You closed your eyes as the murky liquid was about to touch your tongue when a resounding clang echoed in the small space. 

“Alright! Breakfast is ready!” Jinu called. He and Abby stood side by side behind the counter where an array of plates had been set up, each filled with scrambled eggs, a generous amount of bacon and toast. “Baby, come get your share before Abby eats everything!”

It only took a few days for your role to shift from accidental wrangler to something dangerously close to manager.

You didn’t have an office, a contract, or even their full trust—but you had the sharp tongue, the business degree, and the iron will to drag five half-feral demons into something resembling discipline. And, judging by how the Saja Boys were still breathing, still showing up to practice, and still (mostly) obeying, it was working.

Romance had tested you first, trying to charm his way out of schedules. Abby grumbled about every demand you threw at him, but still showed up when you snapped your fingers. Baby sulked and whined, yet was always the first one at rehearsals—though usually shirtless and smug. Mystery said little, but his eyes never stopped tracking you, as if waiting for you to trip. And Jinu? He didn’t argue. He simply watched. Judged. Smirked when the others cracked under your orders.

They were still doubtful, yes. Still demons first and idols second. But when you spoke, they listened—if only to grumble afterward.

And you? You thrived on it.

The practice room reeked of sweat, smoke, and adrenaline. You stood against the wall, arms folded, clipboard in hand like you were born for it, watching them sweat through choreography. “Careful,” you teased, voice sharp as glass. “I can feel your stares from across the room. Keep dancing before I remind you who’s actually in charge.”

The boys filed in one by one. Baby collapsed onto a couch, peeling his shirt off like it had personally offended him. Mystery leaned silently against a corner, towel around his neck, unreadable as always. Romance still grinned despite the sheen of sweat dripping down his jaw, waving to nonexistent fans. Jinu moved calm, smirk barely visible, already tugging his jacket back on as if the chaos hadn’t touched him.

And Abby? Abby snapped.

“Enough,” he growled, voice rough, sweat dripping down his temple. “You think you can bark orders at us forever? We’re not dogs—you can’t just pull the leash every time we breathe wrong.”

The others froze, their eyes darting between you and him like they were watching a fuse burn down.

You, however, didn’t move.

Didn’t flinch. Didn’t blink.

You shifted the clipboard and tapped the pen against it, your smirk sharp as you finally looked at him. “Funny,” you said coolly, “I don’t remember asking if you liked the leash. I only remember tightening it.”

For a second you thought he might lunge, the tension rolling off him like heat, his chest rising and falling too fast, his jaw locked tight.

But he didn’t move.

He couldn’t.

Because your eyes had already left him—dismissive, calm, as if his outburst wasn’t worth the breath. The others caught it too—the way you ignored his temper like he was a child throwing a tantrum. Abby clenched his fists, but your nonchalance cut sharper than any insult.

You busied yourself with your clipboard, jotting down notes, murmuring something under your breath about scheduling conflicts and costume repairs, not once looking at him again.

That was worse than any fight.

Abby’s fists were tight at his sides, his glare burned into you, hotter than any stage lights ever could. “Get out,” he snapped, voice raw, sharp enough to cut. “We don’t need you. We don’t want you. Not some half-breed pretending to play manager.”

The words hit the air heavy, sharp, ugly. And you? You stayed still, but your aura shifted.

Your smirk faltered, not gone but sharpened, your pen tapping harder against the clipboard. For the first time, the temperature in the room seemed to drop. “Careful,” you murmured, voice low, dangerous.

Abby took a step forward, growl tearing up his throat. “No. You be careful. We don’t take orders from leashes. We don’t need a hybrid telling us how to breathe.” His jaw clenched, his voice a snarl. “So walk out that door before I—”

You cut him off.

Your gaze snapped to his, patterns threatening to ripple under your skin, your patience fraying like the edge of a blade. “Before you what?” Your tone was razor-thin, every word drenched in venom. “Growl louder? Prove to the others that you can’t handle me? That’s the best you’ve got?”

Abby’s chest rose and fell in harsh bursts, his teeth bared, and snapped forward, the last thread of his temper breaking. His growl rattled the walls, sharp and feral, his fists clenching like he meant to tear something apart.

But you moved faster.

In the span of a heartbeat, your clipboard clattered to the floor and your hand was on his throat, gnarled claws digging just enough to pierce skin. His back slammed into the wall, the sound echoing through the cramped room.

The others froze.

Romance’s grin evaporated. Baby’s eyes widened. Mystery’s lips twitched at the corner. And Jinu's eyes turned shiny gold.

Abby choked, hands flying up to grip your wrist, his eyes blazing as your claws pressed into his skin.

“Listen carefully,” you hissed, your voice low and venomous, heat sparking violet under your skin. “You are still alive because of me. Because I made an agreement that keeps you breathing, keeps Huntr/x breathing, keeps this entire shaky truce standing.”

Your grip tightened, his pulse hammering beneath your palm.

“You want to forget that?” You leaned closer, your breath brushing his cheek, eyes burning gold. “Go ahead. Break the deal. Watch how fast I rip you open before anyone else gets the chance.”

The only sound in that chaos was Abby’s ragged breath, his hands trembling against your wrist, his growl breaking into something guttural and uneven.

You released him with a sharp shove, letting him stumble forward, coughing, claw marks bright against his throat. Then you bent down, picked up your clipboard, and tapped the pen back against it as if nothing had happened.

“Now,” you said flatly, smirk curling again. “Anyone else want to forget why they’re still alive?”

The silence was thick, heavy, Abby’s ragged breathing the only sound in the room. He leaned against the wall, rubbing at the fresh claw marks on his throat, still glaring, but the fight had been cut clean out of him.

Romance was the first to break it. He let out a low whistle, shaking his head, his grin creeping back like he couldn’t help himself. “Well, shit. Remind me never to piss you off, sweetheart.”

Baby leaned back into the couch, towel thrown over his head, muttering, “We’re supposed to be the scary ones. And yet…” His eyes flicked up at you, still wide, still unsettled. “…you’ve got him by the throat like it’s nothing.”

Mystery didn’t laugh. Didn’t comment. But the faintest curve of a smirk twitched at the corner of his lips, as though he was quietly impressed despite himself.

And Jinu? Jinu chuckled low, deep, his arms folded as he leaned against the wall. A faint smirk was carved sharp, eyes glinting. “A half-breed who handles a demon better than demons a hundred times his age…” His gaze lingered on Abby, then slid back to you. “…I’d call that ironic. But maybe it’s just justice.”

Abby growled low, embarrassed, his glare still burning into you. But he didn’t move. Didn’t push back again.

You looked at them one by one, smirk curling sharper with every second. “Still underestimating me,” you said at last, voice cool, dripping with venom. “You’ve been doing it since the very first day.”

Baby shifted uncomfortably on the couch, Romance raised a brow, even Mystery’s eyes narrowed, his stillness breaking.

You stepped closer, your gaze slicing across all five of them. “That’s why you’re so damn easy to attack. Easy to break.”

Abby bristled, but the red marks on his throat kept him quiet.

Your smirk widened, cruel and amused all at once. “Funny, isn’t it? A half-breed—what, maybe five percent of your age?—and I had you pinned to the wall before you could even blink.”

The weight of your words settled heavy. Romance cursed under his breath, Baby muttered something sharp that sounded a lot like fuck off, and Mystery’s lips twitched again, unreadable.

You tilted your head, voice dropping softer but no less dangerous. “Keep forgetting what I am. It only makes my job easier.”

Baby groaned, throwing the towel off his head and glaring at you like you’d just cheated on a test he couldn’t pass. “Okay, no—seriously.” His voice cracked with disbelief. “How the fuck do you do that? We don’t see you train, you don’t eat souls, you don’t even—hell, you barely sleep. And yet you toss Abby around like he’s a rookie.”

Abby growled low, still rubbing his throat, but didn’t contradict him.

Romance tilted his head, smirk trying to crawl back but curiosity burning under it. “He’s right, sweetheart. No offense, but you don’t exactly scream ‘discipline.’ Yet somehow, you’ve got more bite than five demons with centuries under their belts.”

Mystery finally spoke, his voice calm but edged. “You shouldn’t be stronger than us.” His gaze locked on you, steady, searching. “And yet you are.”

Their questions hang in the air, let them stew in it, their stares heavy, desperate for an answer you had no intention of handing over cleanly.

And you?

You only laughed. Low, sharp, dangerous. The kind of laugh that twisted the knife. “The hunger that feeds my strenght doesn’t work like yours,” you said finally, voice low but clear. “It’s not directed at souls. Not in the same way.”

Romance leaned forward, curious and Baby squinted, suspicion written all over his face.

You shrugged, casual, wicked. “Hunger can be filled with many things. Sugar. Spice. Pain.” You let the pause hang, your grin widening as you leaned against the wall. “And sex. Hard, rough, unforgettable sex.”

Baby choked on a laugh, half scandalized, half aroused. Romance barked out a sharp laugh, clapping his hands once like he’d just won a bet. Abby muttered a curse under his breath, glaring away. Mystery’s mouth twitched, not quite a smile but close.

You lifted the clipboard again, tapping it against your palm like a gavel. “I already told you. You just didn’t believe me.”

The room buzzed with restless silence, your words sinking in like venom, their stares still hooked on you, their hunger turning restless. “You should try it sometime,” you said softly, voice dripping with mock-sweetness. “Before you decide I’m lying.”

You gave them all a once-over, satisfied, then lifted your clipboard again like the conversation hadn’t happened. Your voice snapped back into crisp professionalism, cutting through the tension.

“Tomorrow,” you said, tapping the page with your pen. “You’ve got rehearsal at ten, interviews at one, soundcheck at six, and then a fan meet at eight. I don’t care how wrecked you feel—” you shot Abby a pointed look, smirk sharp, “—you show up. No excuses.”

The boys bristled, restless under your words, but none of them argued. Not now. Your heels clicked against the floor as you reached the door, your voice hanging in the air like smoke.

But before you could push it open, a voice cut through the silence.

“Wait.”

You froze, turning just enough to see Jinu stepping forward. His arms no longer crossed, there was no mockery in his eyes—only weight, sharp and unflinching. He stopped a few feet from you, his voice steady, low, carrying the kind of authority that made every other sound in the room fall silent.

“You’ve made your point,” he said. “But don’t mistake control for loyalty. You can force us into line, yes. You’ve proved that. But if you want us to follow you—not just obey you—” his gaze bore into yours, dark and unwavering, “—then you’ll need more than claws and threats.”

For a moment, the air felt heavier than your laughter had left it.

Jinu didn’t wait for your reply. He stepped back, his eyes still locked to yours, then turned toward the others as if nothing had been said. The room buzzed with the echo of his words, the challenge left dangling in the air.

You smirked faintly, hand on the doorknob.

“Get some sleep, boys. You’ll need it.”

╌╌╌╌╌╌𖤐☽༓☾𖤐╌╌╌╌╌╌𖤐☽༓☾𖤐╌╌╌╌

The next day, the air in the rehearsal room was sharp, brittle with everything Jinu had left hanging the night before. The boys showed up on time—your orders still carried weight—but the silence between them was thick enough to choke on.

They didn’t look at you the same way.

Romance wasn’t grinning as much. Baby wasn’t whining. Abby kept his distance, jaw tight, throat still marked. Mystery hovered close to the mirrors, unreadable but watchful. And Jinu stood in the middle, arms folded, eyes on you like he was waiting to see whether you understood his challenge.

You did.

Clipboard in hand, you clapped once, the sound sharp. “Listen up. Yesterday was about proving I could keep you from tearing each other apart. Today is about proving I can make you better.”

Their eyes flicked up, uncertain, restless.

You smirked, teeth flashing. “You think claws and threats are all I’ve got? Cute. Watch closely, boys—because I’m going to turn five half-feral demons into idols people can’t stop screaming for.”

Romance blinked, then barked a laugh. Baby muttered, “She’s insane.” Abby growled under his breath. Mystery tilted his head, studying. And Jinu’s lips twitched, not quite a smirk, but close.

You dropped the clipboard onto a chair and stepped onto the practice floor. “Form up. I’ll show you how it’s done.”

The music pulsed low from the speakers, bass shaking the mirrors. The boys lined up, their usual formation—tight, perfect on stage, but raw and sloppy in rehearsal. You leaned back against the wall, arms folded, eyes cutting over every movement. One eight-count in and you’d already spotted the cracks.

“Stop.” Your voice sliced through the beat, sharp enough to freeze them mid-step.

Romance blinked at you, grinning like he hadn’t just fumbled. “What? I looked good.”

“You looked like you were trying to fuck the floor,” you shot back. “Feet closer. Center of gravity lower. Unless you want to eat shit on stage in front of fifty thousand fans.”

His grin twitched, but he adjusted.

Your gaze snapped to Baby. “And you—stop rushing the beat. You’re not faster than the music, genius.”

He groaned, throwing his head back. “I’m keeping energy!”

“You’re keeping chaos,” you snapped. “Lock it down. Energy is useless if it looks like trash.” Baby scowled but moved back into position.

You circled behind Abby, watching his broad shoulders tense as he hit the moves too heavy, too forced. “Ease up,” you ordered, tapping his arm with your pen. “You’re dancing, not breaking the floorboards.”

He growled low, but his eyes flicked toward you—heavier, begrudging. And still, he adjusted.

Mystery. The quiet one. Smooth, but holding back. You stepped into his space, voice lower. “You’re marking it. Again. Full-out or get out.”

His lips twitched, almost a smirk, and this time when he moved, he gave everything.

And finally—Jinu. Perfect lines, perfect rhythm. But you caught it anyway. “You’re leading with your ego,” you said flatly, standing right in front of him. “Pull your chin down. Breathe through the music. Otherwise you look like a statue, not a leader.”

For the first time, Jinu’s brows furrowed. A small, sharp crack in his composure. You smirked. “Better.”

The music started again. They moved sharper, tighter, every correction biting. And you? You stood with arms folded, eyes glittering, your smirk carved deep.

They reset into formation, glancing at you like they expected another verbal lashing.

Instead, you stepped onto the floor. Their eyes followed you instantly—five demons blinking in disbelief as you cut through the center of their line. You didn’t ask for space. You took it.

“Mystery.” You brushed his arm with yours as you slid into his lane, your body going full-out where his had been lazy. “No more half-energy. If I can go harder than you, you’re slacking.”

His lips twitched, and when he moved again, it was sharp enough to make the mirrors tremble.

You didn’t stop.

“Abby.” You shifted into his path, chest to chest, your body flowing lighter through the combo, then snapping hard on the accent. “Strength without control is wasted. Ease into it. Then hit.”

His growl vibrated against you, but his shoulders dropped, his next move smoother, heavier in the right place.

“Romance,” you said, brushing past him, “your weight’s off. Watch.” You sank into the beat, knees bent, body rolling sharp and clean, snapping into place with more control than he’d shown all morning. His jaw slackened, smirk gone.

Jinu hadn’t missed a beat, but you still walked straight up to him, your body mirroring his perfectly for one sequence before snapping sharper, lower, cleaner. You leaned close, voice low.

“Less marble statue. More leader.” For the first time, his breath caught—eyes narrowing, the smallest crack in his composure.

“Baby.” You caught his wrist mid-move, dragging it back to center, your body hitting the rhythm exactly where his was rushing. “The beat leads you. Not the other way around. Lock it here.”

He sputtered, cheeks flushed, but copied the adjustment, teeth clenched.

You smirked, stepping back, the music still pulsing through you. “Better. All of you.”

The boys stared, chests heaving, sweat dripping, their rhythm tighter than before. Not perfect—but sharper. Stronger.

And all because you’d stepped in.

You straightened, brushing a stray strand of hair back, smirk flashing like a blade. “Now run it again. Full out. No excuses.”

And for once, they didn’t argue. The track ended, the last beat echoing off the mirrors. The boys stood dripping in sweat, breathing hard, muscles tight.

You smirked, crossing your arms. “See? Not that hard. You just needed someone with a brain to show you how it’s done.”

Romance let out a dry laugh, shaking his head as if he couldn’t believe he’d let you call him out like that. Baby dropped onto the floor, towel over his face, muttering something like fuck off in between gasps. Jinu wiped sweat from his temple, eyes lingering on you longer than he meant to, unreadable. Abby growled low but didn’t deny it. And Mystery just watched, still but sharper, as if filing the moment away.

Suddenly, you reached into the bag you’d left by the wall. “Alright, break time. Don’t say I don’t take care of you feral idiots.”

The sound of wrappers and bottles clinked as you pulled out an assortment—fruit skewers, cut melon, bottled water, sports drinks, even a small bag of spicy chips you tossed straight at Baby. He caught them clumsily, blinking like he’d just been handed gold.

His head popped up immediately, eyes wide. “You didn’t—”

“You brought snacks?” Romance asked, brow raised.

You shrugged, biting into a slice of apple. “Yeah. Fruit so you don’t die, sugar so you stop whining, spice so Baby shuts up for five minutes. Oh—and a couple things you’re absolutely not supposed to eat if you want to keep your perfect idol diets.” Your grin widened. “You’re welcome.”

Abby grumbled something like tch, but still reached for a bottle of water, as same as Jinu, twisting the cap without breaking eye contact, his silence heavier than words. Mystery quietly took a piece of melon, his expression unreadable as ever.

You leaned back against the mirror, smirk curling sharper as you bit into a slice of apple. “You boys keep underestimating me,” you said lightly, almost sweet. “That’s what makes you easy.”

The room was quiet now, just the sound of wrappers crinkling and water bottles cracking open. They were still watching you—half suspicious, half begrudgingly impressed—when you crouched by the bag again.

“By the way…”

You pulled out a small lacquered box, dark wood polished smooth, tied neatly with red string. Their eyes flicked toward it, curiosity sharpening as you set it down on the table in the corner.

You didn’t open it. Not yet.

Instead, you dragged a fingertip slowly across the lid, your smirk tugging at the corner of your mouth. “Dasiks,” you said casually, like you hadn’t just dropped a bomb in the room. “Homemade. Not by me, obviously—I’m not wasting my time in a kitchen. But still fresh.”

You untied the string with deliberate slowness, lifting the lid to reveal the delicate flower-pressed cookies inside, green tea, sesame, chestnut. The air filled with their subtle sweetness.

None of the boys moved, but...Romance tilted his head, grin creeping back. “You’re dangerous.”

Abby scowled, suspicious but clearly tempted, his throat working as he swallowed down nothing. Mystery’s gaze sharpened, unreadable, but his body leaned ever so slightly closer.

You smiled slowly, tapping the edge of the box with one nail. “What? I said I was feeding you. Did you really think I meant just chips and fruit?”

The sweet scent filling the room, watching them like prey sniffing the trap. “Go on,” you added softly. “Take one. See if they taste as good as they look.”

The tension was thick. You weren’t just feeding them. You were testing them. No one moved.

Mystery didn’t speak, but his eyes flicked between the box and your face, calculating. And Jinu—still silent, still watching you, his smirk gone, expression flat as stone.

Baby crossed his arms, still eyeing the cookies like they might bite him first. “Feels like a trap.”

You sighed, exaggerated and sharp. “They’re not poisoned,” you said flatly. “Relax. If I wanted you dead, you wouldn’t be standing here right now.”

Your hand dipped into the box, fingers plucking out a dark sesame piece. You held it up, meeting each of their eyes in turn. “I’m feeding you. Helping you. Keeping you alive long enough to actually be worth something.”

Then you popped the cookie into your mouth and bit down, slow and deliberate. The sweetness spread across your tongue as you chewed, smirk tugging sharp at the corner of your lips. You swallowed, licking the sugar from your thumb.

“See?” you said, your voice almost mocking. “Still breathing. Still fine.”

The boys shifted—Baby’s hunger showing first, he groaned, throwing his head back. “Fuck it,” he muttered, shoving off the couch. He stomped over to the table, grabbed a green tea cookie, and shoved it into his mouth in one bite.

The room snapped.

Romance barked out a laugh, half-disbelieving. “You idiot. If she had poisoned it, you’d be choking right now.”

Baby chewed noisily, grinning through crumbs. “Worth it.” He licked sugar from his thumb, eyes narrowing with reluctant satisfaction. “Goddamn. That’s good.”

You smirked, arms folded, leaning against the wall. “See? Told you.”

Abby muttered something sharp under his breath but reached out anyway, snatching a chestnut piece like it was an insult not to. Mystery followed next, his movements calm, precise, as he plucked a cookie and tasted it slowly, eyes flicking back to you. Romance, of course, made a show of it—picking one up, bowing mockingly before popping it into his mouth.

Jinu was last. He didn’t rush. Didn’t smirk. He simply stepped forward, selected a sesame piece, and ate it with deliberate calm, his eyes locked on yours the entire time.

You watched them eat, one by one, your smirk cutting sharper with every bite. When the last crumb disappeared, you pushed off the wall and clapped your hands once, mock-sweet. “Good boys.”

That set them off.

Romance let out a bark of laughter, wiping sugar from the corner of his mouth. “You’re insane. No manager talks to us like that.”

Baby groaned, still chewing. “Yeah, seriously. First you choke Abby out, now you’re hand-feeding us cookies? You’re a freak.”

Mystery tilted his head, eyes narrowing faintly as though he was cataloging the moment. “…Unusual,” he said at last, calm but edged.

Abby scowled, chest still tight, his voice low and bitter. “You’re not just unusual. You’re wrong. A half-breed shouldn’t be stronger than us, let alone bossing us around.”

The silence thickened, sharp.

Then Jinu broke it, his voice low, deliberate. “Strange doesn’t mean weak. And she isn’t weak.” His gaze slid to you, heavy, steady. “She’s… rare.”

Their words hung in the air, restless, circling you like smoke.

You only smirked wider, plucking one last dasik from the box and popping it into your mouth. “Rare,” you echoed, chewing slow, your grin wicked. “Get used to it.”

The room buzzed with their frustration, their hunger, their reluctant respect.

╌╌╌╌╌╌𖤐☽༓☾𖤐╌╌╌╌╌╌𖤐☽༓☾𖤐╌╌╌╌

Two months later, and you’d become very good at herding monsters.

No one called it that, of course. On paper, you were the newly appointed manager of the Saja Boys, responsible for schedules, promotions, interviews, contracts—the whole industry circus. But in reality? You were the leash keeping five half-feral demons from tearing each other, their fans, or the stage to shreds.

And you were damn good at it.

“Interview at ten,” you said briskly, tossing a stack of schedules onto the table. “Rehearsal at one. Photoshoot moved to three because apparently Abby can’t stop glaring holes into photographers—”

“That guy was an idiot,” Abby muttered, arms crossed.

“—and Mystery,” you continued without missing a beat, “you’re not allowed to vanish before going live broadcast again. The producers nearly had a heart attack.”

From his corner, Mystery tilted his head, shadows curling lazily at his shoulders. “They survived.”

“Barely.”

Jinu smirked, lounging across the couch like he owned the world. “I have to admit, you’re more ruthless than I thought”

“Not hard,” you shot back. “A potted plant would’ve done a better job.”

Romance barked a laugh, Baby choked on his drink, and even Abby cracked the ghost of a smile.

The truth was, you’d made yourself indispensable. Contracts got signed on time. Stages didn’t collapse into chaos. Even Huntr/x had kept their claws sheathed, honoring the uneasy truce you’d carved into the air that night.

The fans noticed too. They didn’t know your name, but they whispered about the “ghost manager” who kept the Saja Boys in line. Some thought you were just another suit in heels. Others swore you were something more, a rumor born from the way the boys sometimes looked at you like predators circling something too dangerous to eat.

Either way, you held the reins. And you weren’t letting go.

The days bled together. Not in the slow, sleepy way of ordinary life—but like a film reel spliced too fast, too sharp, every frame hitting harder than the last.

You adapted quickly. You had to.

Mornings meant dragging five half-feral idols into order, one coffee at a time. Afternoons, you were referee, keeping Abby from snapping at choreographers who confused his intensity for anger. Evenings, you were both strategist and executioner—signing contracts, fixing schedules, fending off rival managers who thought they could talk circles around you. They couldn’t.

Romance flirting shamelessly with the makeup artist until you slid his mic into place and deadpanned, “Save the seduction for the fans.” A rival manager puffing himself up across a meeting table, only to wither when you leaned forward and said, with ice in your tone, “Try me.” Baby trailing after you during rehearsal breaks, sandwich in hand, mumbling that you hadn’t eaten since dawn.

You didn’t smile often, but your presence was a language they understood—one made of sharp edges, blunt truths, and efficiency. The Saja Boys were chaos. You were the leash. And somehow, it worked.

Which is why you noticed the shift in the air before you even saw him.

Romance.

You felt him at your back as you leaned over tomorrow’s schedule, his presence warm, electric, too close to ignore. The scent of sweat, cologne, and something darker—predatory—brushed over your senses.

“Thought you said you wanted to fuck one of us,” he murmured, low and amused, voice dripping like honey over broken glass. “What happened to that?”

You didn’t lift your gaze from the page, the scratch of your pen continuing. “I’m not an easy girl,” you said flatly. “You’ll have to earn me.”

A pause, then the curve of his smirk pressed into your ear. “Or…” he whispered, “we could make it just one night.”

That broke your focus. You let the silence stretch a heartbeat too long, then laughed under your breath, sharp and amused. Finally, you tilted your head just enough to glance at him from the corner of your eye.

“One night?” Your tone was incredulous, mocking. “Considering the endless hours, the sleepless days, the hell we’re stuck grinding through together…” You straightened, finally meeting his gaze, your lips curling into a blade of a smile. “If all you want is one night—then that’s your loss.”

For a second, his grin faltered, surprise flickering in his eyes. Then he chuckled, low and throaty, tongue dragging across his teeth in frustration laced with intrigue.

“Careful,” he said softly. “You’re making it sound like you want more.”

You dropped your gaze back to the schedule, dismissing him with deliberate ease. “Or maybe I’m making it sound like I know my worth.”

Romance stood there, quiet now, grin twisted, gaze burning holes into your skin.

And you—utterly calm, violet patterns dormant under your flesh—kept writing, as if you hadn’t just flipped the board on him.

He didn’t let it go. Of course he didn’t.

Every rehearsal, you felt his eyes lingering longer than necessary, following the sway of your movements as you paced the studio with your clipboard. Every break, he’d drift closer, always within reach, testing the edges of your patience.

But Romance wasn’t the only one testing his boundaries.

Abby had been watching. Not in the same obvious way—his gaze was sharper, narrower, full of judgment rather than flirtation. But you caught it, the way his eyes followed every exchange, as if waiting for you to slip, to prove you weren’t strong enough to stand where you were.

It came to a head after rehearsal one night. You’d stayed behind to finalize the new sponsor's contract, scrolling through your pad on the edge of the stage while the boys packed up. The room was almost empty when you realized Abby hadn’t left. He was leaning against the mirror, arms crossed, eyes locked on you like a blade pressed against skin.

“You act like you own us,” he said finally, voice flat but edged with something harsher underneath.

You didn’t look up. “I don’t act. I do.”

That earned you a low scoff. He pushed off the mirror, slow steps carrying him closer until he loomed over you. “You’re just a manager. Don’t forget that.”

You tossed the pad into your bag and stood, the violet patterns under your skin pulsing faintly as if to remind him who you were. Tilting your chin up, you met his glare with calm defiance.

“Funny,” you said smoothly. “I thought a manager was supposed to keep the band alive. Considering how many times you’ve tried to kill each other, I’d say I’m doing my job better than any of you.”

You, reveling in the moment, leaned just a fraction closer and whispered, “Don’t mistake control for weakness. I keep you in line because I can.”

His eyes burned hotter than fire, but he said nothing. Just stood there, caught between fury and something far more dangerous.

You left him like that, walking past him, the echo of your words hanging in the air. Behind you, Abby muttered under his breath, but you didn’t need to hear it. You knew the sound of a predator choking on pride.

...

Mystery never tested you in the same way the others did. He didn’t argue like Abby. He didn’t tease like Romance. He just… appeared.

In mirrors. In doorways. In the corner of rehearsal rooms when you were sure you’d locked the door. And for weeks, he said nothing—just watched.

Until the day he didn’t.

You were alone backstage, flipping through a stack of stage notes, when the air shifted. A prickle crawled up your spine. You didn’t need to turn around to know he was there. “You’ve been following me,” you said flatly, eyes still on the paper.

Silence. Then the faintest ripple of laughter, low and hollow, echoing from the shadows themselves.

You sighed and set the papers down. “If this is your idea of intimidation, I should tell you—” You turned, meeting the twin pinpoints of his eyes gleaming in the half-dark. “It’s not working.”

He stepped forward, slow, deliberate. Not quite walking, not quite gliding. His presence made the room colder, smaller. “Most people flinch,” he murmured finally, voice soft enough to brush the edges of your bones.

“I’m not most people.”

That earned you silence again. He circled closer, shadows bending toward him like a tide. The violet lines under your skin itched to answer, but you held them back, watching.

“You keep staring at me like you want something,” you said, tone dry. “So? What is it?”

Mystery tilted his head, smile ghostlike. “To see if you’ll break.”

Your lips curled, equal parts amused and sharp. “I don’t break. I bite.” The words hung between you like a dare. For the first time, something flickered in his expression—interest, hunger, curiosity.

He leaned in just enough for the darkness to lick at your throat, and whispered, “We’ll see.” But when you didn’t flinch, didn’t even blink, it was him who faded back first, dissolving into the wall like smoke retreating from fire.

You exhaled, steady. Collected. Victorious.

...

Baby was the sunshine of the group. Or at least, that’s what the world believed.

Bright smile, dimpled cheeks, the kind of voice that could melt an entire fanbase into worship. He weaponized softness, used it to disarm, to charm, to make people forget what he really was. But you knew better. Behind that easy grin lived teeth just as sharp as the others’.

Which was why, when you caught him leaning against the doorway, arms crossed and smirk firmly in place, you weren’t surprised.

“You’re fun to watch,” he said, tone light, almost sing-song. “Bossing us around like you own the place.”

You arched a brow, arms crossing to mirror him. “And yet, you keep listening. Guess it works.”

His grin widened, sharp enough to glitter. “Or maybe I just enjoy watching you try.”

“Try?” you echoed, stepping closer, closing the gap until there was no mistaking your challenge. “Funny. I thought I was succeeding.”

For a beat, silence stretched between you, electric. Baby didn’t look away, not for a second. And neither did you.

It became a standoff—his sweetness laced with venom, your sharpness wrapped in amusement. He tilted his head, lashes fluttering as if to soften the blade. “Careful. Keep staring at me like that, and people might think you’re falling for me.”

You let out a low laugh, leaning in just enough to match his angle. “Oh, sweetheart,” you said, voice dripping with mock sympathy. “If all it takes to scare you is eye contact, you’re in trouble.”

His smile twitched, just slightly. Not broken—challenged. For once, it wasn’t him making someone else fluster. It was you, standing steady, gaze locked, refusing to blink until he did.

When he finally broke eye contact, glancing aside with a huff of laughter, you smiled slow and victorious.

“Didn’t think so,” you murmured, brushing past him as if the whole exchange had been nothing but a game.

But the way his laugh followed you—lower, sharper this time—told you Baby hadn’t lost. He’d simply found a new opponent.

...

Jinu was different. He didn’t circle you like Mystery. He didn’t poke and tease like Romance. He didn’t bristle like Abby, or play coy like Baby.

Jinu simply was. Leader. Predator. The kind of presence that filled a room before he even opened his mouth.

Which is why you weren’t surprised to find him waiting in the the middle of the stage hall one night, perched casually like it was a throne. “Manager,” he greeted, voice low, smooth as smoke. Not your name. Not even a title of respect. Just a word laced with claim.

You dropped your bag onto a near console, arching a brow. “Lurking around in the dark? Careful, Jinu—you’re starting to look needy.”

That earned you a grin, sharp and deliberate. “Needy?” He stood, unfolding to his full height, every step measured as he closed the distance. “I think you forget who’s letting you run this mess”

You tilted your chin up, refusing to give ground. “Do I?”

He stopped just in front of you, so close the heat of his body brushed your skin. The air between you felt charged, heavy with unspoken things. “You keep us in line,” Jinu said, gaze drilling into yours. “But don’t mistake our tolerance for obedience.”

You smiled, slow and dangerous. “And don’t mistake my patience for fear. I’m not here because I need you.” You leaned in, your voice dropping to a whisper against his jawline. “I’m here because you need me.”

His eyes narrowed, the smirk twitching but never breaking. For a long moment, neither of you moved—just the sound of breath, the tension of two forces colliding without touch.

Finally, Jinu chuckled, low and rich, tilting his head back just enough to meet your gaze fully. “Careful, little half-breed. Keep talking like that, and I might start believing you.”

Your smile widened. “Good. Because it’s true.”

The silence that followed wasn’t surrender. It was recognition.

And when you finally stepped back, it wasn’t because you’d lost the standoff. It was because you’d won it—by not moving at all.

╌╌╌╌╌╌𖤐☽༓☾𖤐╌╌╌╌╌╌𖤐☽༓☾𖤐╌╌╌╌

The penthouse hall buzzed with leftover energy. Five boys scattered across the space, each pretending to focus on their own routines, but the air was heavy, taut, tied together by one undeniable thread: you.

Romance sprawled against the couch, smirking to himself, though his eyes flicked to you every other heartbeat as if waiting for another opening to push. Abby leaned against the wall, arms crossed, jaw locked—silent, but his gaze never strayed far. Baby twirled a water bottle in his hands, grinning too wide, the kind of grin that said he was plotting his next move. Mystery lingered in the shadows of the far corner, his shape melting and reforming, but even his silence felt aimed at you. And Jinu just watched, seated calmly on the edge of the stage like a king surveying his court, unreadable but undeniably fixated.

You moved through them with steady ease, clipboard in hand, voice crisp as you rattled off schedules and demands. None of them interrupted. Not this time.

The silence that followed your instructions wasn’t submission, but something stranger—something more dangerous. They weren’t ignoring you. They weren’t dismissing you. They were orbiting you, caught in your gravity, even if none of them would ever admit it out loud.

And so...

It started small. A glance held a little too long. A smirk sharpened like a blade. The silence between questions that stretched just a breath too far.

You felt it gathering in the room, thickening with every day that passed. It wasn’t just tension anymore—it was hunger. The kind of restless craving that wasn’t about food or fame, but about skin, pulse, heat.

Romance’s laughter, rougher now, always aimed at you. Baby’s smiles, sweeter on the surface, but hiding something sharper behind them. Jinu’s silence, watching you like a predator who’d already claimed the territory. Mystery’s gaze lingering closer each night. Abby’s glares, hot enough to burn holes into your back.

The rehearsal hall, the green rooms, even the van rides between schedules—every space felt too small. Their gazes clung to you, five threads of heat pulling taut, wrapping tighter with every second.

And you? You felt it too.

Your blood hummed, your skin prickled, you knew the look in their eyes. You’d seen it before, in reflections of your own kind. Hunger recognized hunger.

Still, you kept your mouth shut. You smiled inwardly, sharp and secret, letting them think they had the upper hand. They didn’t know you were watching just as carefully, cataloguing every twitch, every pause, every fracture in their composure.

They thought they were circling you. But you were the one pulling the strings.

And oh, how sweet it felt.

To be continue

╌╌╌╌╌╌𖤐☽༓☾𖤐╌╌╌╌╌╌𖤐☽༓☾𖤐╌╌╌╌

Saja Boys

• fluff

You Trick Him Into Holding Hands (fan!reader)

Appreciation Gift (fan!reader)

Snuggle Monster

Your Pet Is A Sugar Glider

You Have A Hedgehog Pet

You Get Your Frog Pet A Friend

You Have A Weird Pet

He Pretends To Hate Your Pet (dogs edition)

He Pretends To Hate Your Pet (cats edition)

Kitty Harness

Your Cat Gets Sick

Critter Hunting

Your Cat Meets Derpy/Sussie

You Get Sick

Only One Bed, Only One Heart (enemies to lovers)

Hellish Surprise

Seeing Your Wings For The First Time (x fallen angel!reader)

He Clings To You

You're Under Anesthesia And You Try To Hit On Him, Not Remembering He's Already Your Boyfriend

You Play With His Hair

You Tell His Overly Pushy Fan That He's Yours

You Tell Him Your Bias Is Another Member

Getting In His Way Just To Cuddle

Magnetic Heart Bracelets

From Knuckles To Lips

General Headcanons

Wedding Headcanons

First Date

First Kiss (with them)

Jealousy & Reassurance

Wearing His Hoodie

Types Of Kisses

He Confesses To You

He Realizes He Has Feelings For You

You're Shy Because He's Your First Boyfriend

He Comforts You After A Bad Day

Celebrating Your Birthday With Him

You Love Him, You Won't Confess Because You Don't Think He Likes You Back

You Don't Always Fit Typical Beauty Standards

You Defend Him

You're A Tomboy

You Have Warm Blood

You Love Bad Jokes/Puns

You're Shy But Want To Kiss Him

You Act Like A Cat

You Go To Disneyland

Your Style Is Y2K

You're A Mean Girl

Scary Dog Privilege

• angst (no comfort!)

Where Memories Do Not Follow

You Love Him, He Doesn't Feel The Same Way

• angst (comfort!)

You Ask "Why Me?" When He Confesses

• suggestive

You Apologize For The Scratch Marks On His Back

You're Loud In Bed Despite Being A Quiet/Shy Person

You Like The Hickeys He Gives You

• Saja Girls

General Headcanons

• x m!reader

He Falls For A Man

Jinu Saja

• ❤️The Weight Of Being Oldest, The Ease Of Being Loved❤️

Abby Saja - nothing yet!

Mystery Saja - nothing yet!

Romance Saja - nothing yet!

Baby Saja

• 💙Not Whipped💙

REQUESTS OPEN FOR ADVENT CALENDAR!

The Confrontation - After the defeat of Gwi Ma, you, the Huntr/x girls, and the Saja Boys take a trip to the Hunter’s House to do some research. Of course Celine is there and of course they have to deal with the toxic treatment that she’s given you and Rumi. (Should read the original short series to make sense.)

Shovel Talk - After the defeat of Gwi Ma, you continue to explore your blooming relationship with the five Saja Boys. So, the Huntr/x girls take it upon themselves to have a little talk with them.

First Kisses - Now that Gwi Ma has been defeated, it is clear that you and the boys have immense feelings for each other. But you have still yet to kiss anybody. Well, until now.

Baby Photos - After kicking Celine to the curb, the nine of you begin your search through the household for answers. But you are waylaid by certain photos being found. (Should be read after The Confrontation.)

Smut 🔞 - Minors please do not interact. While watching a movie with the boys to relax from preparing for your solo debut, Hyeon gets distracted and it leads to your first intimate night with them.

The Debut - After the defeat of Gwi Ma and with the support of your sister, your boyfriends, and your sisters-from-other-misters, it’s finally time for you to have your solo debut as a music artist. And of course the eight idiots have to go and support you.

Interlude - What happened between Rumi and Jinu before the Idol Awards without the romantic undertone? What fight did the boys stage as part of their plan? (Takes place during/before part 5 of the short series.)

Cuddle Time - After a long few weeks after your debut, you finally get a day off—well, other than that one time—but everyone else is busy. That’s okay though, you have Derpy and Sussie to recharge with.

Old Scars - Your debut is fast approaching and you are kind of stressing out. Huntr/x and the Saja Boys all schedule a day to hang out to try and help you relax, but you end up falling back onto old habits. (Will have to have read the short series to make sense.)

Your Biggest Fans - Your boyfriends and three sisters are your absolute eight biggest fans. They also happen to be your eight biggest menaces.

Dating With Demons - Attempting modern dating with five demon boys with limited experience in the modern world? Yeah, it’s about as cute as you expected it to be.

Promises - Time for you to walk down the aisle and to the rest of your life with the five men you love.

Happy Birthday - No one has really celebrated your birthday for years, including yourself. But this year is different and the people that love you are determined to give you the best birthday ever.

A Father’s Love (AU) - Your father was a powerful demon during his time in the demon realm, the boys remembering who he was while looking at your baby photos at the Hunters’ House. And then a dead man shows up. (Takes place directly after Baby Photos.)

Seething - You have debuted as a solo artist and that’s great! Especially since you’re getting so many offers for different projects and collabs now. But not when it pulls your attention from your boys, who begin to quietly seethe.

Little Artifacts - You guys head back to the Hunters’ House for a weekend to really dig through all the things in the archive and see what has been gathering dust for centuries. You stumble across a strange carving though and it has some… odd abilities.

Forbidden Fruit - You and the Saja Boys collab for the first time, digging up memories of that night on the roof for inspiration while you shoot the music video. (Fan reactions to the MV here!)

Mundane Moments 🔞 - Even the smallest, most normal actions of yours pull the boys deeper into love with you. And sometimes, deeper into you.

Snaps - After the Celine Confrontation, you, Rumi, Mira, and Zoey sit down with Bobby to have a serious talk with him about what exactly happened at the Idol Awards. You ask him to be your manager and you end up telling him about Celine. (Go read my other stuff for this to make sense. Also, the boys aren’t in this one).

Baby Fever - You, the girls, and your boys go to a children’s hospital to perform for the kids. You find yourself enjoying your time with the kids and the boys find themselves enjoying you enjoying your time with the kids.

Devotion - Ever since your engagement and marriage to the Saja Boys, a stalker has been making themselves known to you. It gets worse and worse until you end up being kidnapped. Of course your husbands and three sisters need to get their pound of flesh.

Salt - Your debut is fast approaching and you won’t have much time to spend with the boys. Your patience snaps after one too many times of the boys giving more attention to their idol responsibilities. And yes, you are petty enough to make a salt circle despite you being part demon.

Siren’s Song - You have your first movie role in this new Little Mermaid live action adaptation! You get to play a sultry, villainous temptress so of course your boys are gonna drool over you at the premiere.

Announcements - Of course a pregnancy announcement turns to chaos when it’s this family. At least you got it on camera.

Stressful Meetings (Dad AU) - After your tearful reunion with the father you and Rumi thought had died, he wants to meet your partners. It happens with varying success. (Read ‘A Father’s Love’ before reading this!)

Memories - After the ‘Little Artifacts’ fiasco, you all begin cataloging everything down in the archives, doing your best to be careful in case there are any other magical thingies stored down there. Evidently, not careful enough because you end up turning into little kid you without your adult memories—very confused and scared, all you want is your sister. (Read ‘Little Artifacts’ for this to make more sense but don’t have to!)

Nightmares - Shortly after Gwi Ma’s defeat you have your first nightmare of dying. Of course the boys are there to comfort you and remind you that you’re alive.

Guessing Games - It’s been going on for a while, fans have been debating who you were dating ever since that fan sign event between Huntr/x and the Saja Boys. You guys decide to make a game of the reveal.

Heat 🔞 - What you didn’t know about demons was that they went through heats but they’re so spaced out that it’s not usually relevant. Except when demons form a pack or close connections or share a partner. Then, the heats start to sync up.

Sound the Alarms - While working in your room you get startled by an unexpected and unwanted visitor and the boys hurry to your rescue.

Mysterious Creatures - Mira and Zoey have been dancing around each other while diving together for a long while now. It isn’t until they meet a creature that shouldn’t exist that the final piece falls into place.

Boundaries - While visiting a dance practice of your five husbands, a certain dancer must be new to the company because she just won’t leave your boys alone. So, of course you have to put her in her place.

Walking Memories - Celine was never physically violent with you when you were growing up. Except for one day a year. Waking from a nightmare memory that follows you into the waking world, you can’t help but follow the motions. But the boys are there to softly remind you that you’re not there anymore.

Your Idol - As a surprise to your sisters and five boyfriends, you perform ‘Your Idol’ at one of your events. But, you don’t realize the extent of your demonic abilities and it leads to a bit of a mishap…

What Could Have Been - Maybe it’s a message from the universe, but eight people having the same eerie dream at once of what could have happened if Celine had thrown you out all those years ago definitely feels purposeful. (Read the short series for this to make sense!)

Little Hauntings - Mischief happens when Zoey sends you a compilation of possessed doll pranks and begs you to do it to your boyfriends. Of course you have to and of course you almost die laughing.

Pregnancies - Giving birth to a new life is a wonderful, beautiful thing. The moments leading up to it? Less so. But it still has its upsides—especially with your five husbands and three sisters at your side.

Struggles - Haters have made their opinions of your relationship with the boys abundantly clear which leads to a soft, serious conversation about whether it’s okay for you to be dating five men at once.

Gender Swap - What if Rumi had a twin brother and what if the Saja Boys were actually a group of demon girls? How would that first meeting have gone differently?

Hobbies - You take up a new hobby and it starts consuming your attention, so the boys begin competing for your attention by trying to win you over with the best gifts. Somehow, none of them win.

Lure (Mer AU) - How you, as a mer, met your five feral lionfish mer boyfriends.

Purity - The Saja Boys with an innocent girlfriend who loves cuddling but has no experience beyond little loving pecks of the lips.

Last Updated: 5:30 pm EST, September 18, 2025