#boy bands

• Ryul type of bf

Ryul from Lngshot as ur bf

Group: Lngshot

Warnings: jealousy, weirdo (he’s ryul cmon)

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normal

— the type to just throw himself on top of you on the couch with zero warning and zero apology and then just lay there like a large immovable object

— completely serious face 24/7 but randomly starts making the weirdest noise you've ever heard a human make and when you look at him he's already looking at the ceiling like nothing happened trying to hold his laugh

— will watch you do something completely mundane with that intense stare of his and you're like "what" and he's like "nothing keep going"

— texts dry as a desert but in person he's right there next to you, shoulder to shoulder, knee to knee, somehow always touching some part of you without acknowledging it,

— the most nonchalant boyfriend alive but if you look closely he has memorized everything about your routine and notices immediately when something is off

clingy

— he is sooooo clingy with the right person

— physically launches himself at you after not seeing you for more than two days, completely straight face the whole time, like this is a normal greeting

— he would 100% put his head in your chest while hugging you

— will drape himself over your back while you're standing and just stay there, chin on your shoulder, saying nothing, breathing

— during schedules sends you the most unhinged voice notes at 2am, weird dinousaur sounds, random words, one time just him tapping the microphone repeatedly for fifteen seconds

— follows you from room to room without realizing he's doing it and if you point it out he looks genuinely confused like he wasn't aware his body was making those decisions

— needs to have some part of him touching you at all times when you're together, leg, arm, lips, anything, and acts completely unbothered about it

soft

— throws himself on top of you and then gets weirdly still and quiet and you realize he just needed to be close and didn't know how else to ask

— remembers something small you said weeks ago and brings it up at the most random moment and it catches you so off guard you don't know what to do with it

— the weird sounds get softer when he's sleepy and comfortable and at some point you start finding them genuinely comforting

— not the type to say it out loud first but has been showing it in every single thing he does for so long that when he finally says it, it doesn't feel new at all, it just feels like confirmation

— he is THE ryul, but he would be cute just for you

funny

— starts randomly convulsing or making a sound that belongs in a nature documentary and then looks at you completely straight faced like you're the weird one for reacting

— does a bit with the most serious expression alive and keeps it going for so long that you start questioning reality

— will body slam onto the bed next to you at full force and then just lay there like a fallen tree, unbothered, staring at the ceiling

— the humor is so dry and so random and so specific that it takes three seconds to land and by then he's already moved on

— somehow the least expressive member but also the one who makes you laugh the hardest and he acts like he has no idea how that keeps happening

— he acts like he is going to give you food but puts it in his mouth laughing at your face

angry

— goes so still and so quiet that it feels like the temperature in the room dropped

— looks at you with that stare but cold this time, not curious, just flat, and it's genuinely scary because you're so used to it being warm

— responds in full grammatically correct sentences with zero slang and that's how you know it's serious

— doesn't yell, doesn't storm off, just sits there being completely calm and somehow that's the most intense version of him you've ever encountered

— when it's done it's done, he closes it like a file and never opens it again, which is both a relief and slightly unnerving

jealous

— the type to say completely unhinged things with a straight face like "why does he text you" about someone you've known for six years and genuinely wait for a valid answer

— made it very clear from the start that guy best friends are not something he understands or plans to understand, not in a controlling way, just in a this-is-how-my-brain-works way, take it or leave it

— will see a notification pop up on your phone from a guy and say absolutely nothing but the energy in the room shifts immediately and you feel it before you even look at him

— the "i'm not mad" but his jaw is doing that thing and he's sitting very straight and very still and suddenly taking up a lot of space

— not loud about it, not dramatic about it, just becomes a physical presence that gets heavier and closer and more immovable the more uncomfortable he gets

Wanings: Demon pacts I suppose? Not explicitly explained. Word Count: 1.3k Pairings: Saga Boys x Reader

Master List | Next Chapter ->

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

You should’ve never made a pact with a demon. Multiple demons, apparently.

Regardless of your religious beliefs, you knew that personally contacting the reins of Hell was a stupid, crazy idea. But then again, you were only human.

And humans needed to eat.

Didn’t they?

“I'll die if I don't do this,” you murmured, voice ever so soft, echoing in the dimly lit room. “Or maybe I will if I do. Heavens, this is so stupid… Lady, are you sure this will work?”

★

It had all started on a quiet street. You’d been walking with no real purpose, when you encountered an old lady — a beggar, by the looks of it.

You’d offered her kindness.

It was the only thing you could offer, realistically. You had nothing on you. Nothing at home, either. In fact, in a few days, you might not even have a home.

The lady seemed enamored by your sweetness and handed you a little flyer.

“The man who gave me this was very sure of its usefulness,” she said. “Maybe it'll help you. You seem like you need it.”

Ouch.

Even if she meant well. Ouch.

Still, desperate, you unfolded the flyer and read it. It was a crumpled old piece of paper — photoshopped and funny-looking, like it was made by middle schoolers promoting their DnD club.

Not judging, tho.

You held it in your hand and almost laughed at the absurdity. What if?

Realistically, what could go wrong?

It’s not like demons actually existed.

And if they did… maybe they’d pity you. In your sleepless, starved state, this seemed like a genuinely great idea.

Which is what brought you to this very moment —Sitting on the floor of your tiny apartment, placing candles in a circle like some cursed Pinterest board. “First time summoning a demon… hope you don’t mind the mess, Hell Lord,” you giggled to yourself at the pitiful joke and sat in the middle of the room.

What should you even say?

“Oh… hear ye, hear ye, demons,” you tried awkwardly. “Help me progress in my job… um, I really need it to live. I’ll return the favor if you let me live a decent life. "You looked around. “I’ll be bound to you…?”

.

.

.

Right.

What were you even expecting?

Candles bursting into flames?

A thunderclap?

The Hell Lord himself popping in through the wall?

“Well, would you look at that.”

A voice. Low and raspy, but with a slight youthful ring to it.

“Our plan keeps getting easier, doesn’t it, boys?” A series of soft laughs filled the room.

Your entire body tensed — and froze.

“Now, little one. We appreciate your help. We’ll gladly take you as ours.”Your neck almost snapped from how fast you turned toward the voice. You saw a tall figure — and before you could think, you grabbed the closest candle and threw it at them.

“THE HELL?!”

You kept throwing the lit candles like your life depended on it. And well… it kind of did. The entrance was blocked by figures.

Shadowed, unmoving.

“Who are you?! All of you?! I swear, I’ll break your necks if you come any closer!” You grabbed a nearby pillow and held it up with both arms.Your gaze flicked from figure to figure. They were tilting their heads forward… until they all slowly raised their chins.

They were men.

Attractive. Scary-looking. Men.

Still men, tho.

“Who are you?! How did you break in?!”

The man in the center took a step forward, flashing a smirk in your direction. His skin shimmered in a purple hue, tattoos spiraling across his collarbones. “Hello, human. We are your saviors—”

He flinched. “HEY! Did you just smack me with a pillow?!”

“Stay away!”

“Stop, human. I’m warning you. Quiet.”

Suddenly, your voice was gone. You tried to speak — to scream — to whisper, even. But nothing came out. It was as if your own body betrayed you, forced to obey this man’s words. And the men began to walk forward.

Each one was different in height and build — but all of them shared that same violet skin.

“We are the demons you contacted. Your saviors. Your new responsibility.”

The shortest of them — one with blue hair and an irritatingly smug face — held the crumpled flyer right up to your nose. “The owners of your soul…” They stood in front of you, forming a perfect line. And all you could do was stare.

“We are the Saja Boys."

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Of course. Demons apparently existed. And you were now bound to five of them. They had you at their mercy. ‘What do you want from me?’ ‘You work as a manager, don’t you?’ 'Yes…’ ‘Then make us famous.’ ‘Unforgettable.’ ‘Desired.’ ‘Envied.’ The man in the center smirked. “Make us be loved by everyone."

Did I stay until 12 am stressing over the format and this little fix? Yes, yes I did. I've never posted but seeing how this movie has gained popularity and how loved the boys are, I wanted to write for them.

We barely see anything from them in the movie, so I'll probably take creative liberty to write their personalities. This might work as the starter for individual series (for each member) but it all depends if you guys actually like the idea or not Jajaja.

Which reminds me!

The original prompt belong to @soldmygenderforglitter and I took some liberty to develop it! I hope you like it!!

🧢 • 🛵 • 🎙️ • ☔️ • 🍷

“Aye c’mon bro it’s like a boy band song bro”

pairing : student!james x fem!reader◞

summary : you’re dating James, and you couldn’t have been happier. Until you realise what he is actually going throught.◞

other notes : angst! mentionsofdomesticviolence! comfortfic! (1.6k)◞

James had always been quiet in a way that made people trust him.

Not shy exactly—just soft around the edges. The kind of person who listened more than he spoke, who remembered little things without trying. Your favorite snack from the vending machine. Which subjects stressed you out most. The exact way you liked your coffee from the café near school.

Being around him had always been easy.

That was probably how it started.

Not with some dramatic confession or sudden realization, but with afternoons spent together so often that eventually neither of you remembered how things used to be before the other became part of your routine.

James waiting outside your classroom with one earbud held out for you.

Your head on his shoulder during long bus rides home.

Shared hoodies. Shared secrets. Shared silence.

Somewhere along the way, friendship blurred into something warmer.

And somehow, James—gentle, pretty James with sleepy eyes and quiet laughter—became yours.

You liked to think he was happiest during the small moments.

Not parties. Not crowded places. Just this.

Sitting on your bedroom floor while rain tapped softly against the windows, homework abandoned somewhere nearby while he lazily played with your fingers instead.

“You’re distracted,” you said.

James blinked up from where he was leaning against your bed.

“Hm?”

“You’ve read the same sentence like five times.”

A tiny smile appeared on his face.

“So have you.”

You rolled your eyes.

He laughed quietly.

God, you loved that sound.

James reached over after a second, brushing his fingertips against your knee absent-mindedly. The touch was light, familiar. Like he needed to make sure you were still there.

“Your mom still making dinner?” he asked.

“Mhm.”

“Can I stay?”

“You literally never have to ask.”

Something flickered across his face then.

Gone too fast to fully catch.

But you noticed it.

James always acted a little strange whenever people mentioned home.

Not enough for others to question it. Just little things.

The way he lingered before going back at night.

How he flinched whenever someone raised their voice unexpectedly.

The bruises he explained away too quickly.

Basketball accident.

Walked into a door.

Fell off his bike.

You never pushed.

Partly because James closed up whenever he felt cornered, but mostly because you knew he’d tell you when he was ready.

At least, you hoped he would.

The rain started around midnight.

Heavy enough that it rattled against your windows.

You had just started drifting asleep when your phone buzzed across the nightstand.

jamie ❤️ : you awake?

Immediately, you sat up.

you : yeah. everything okay?

Three dots appeared. Disappeared. Appeared again.

jamie ❤️ : can i come over?

Your stomach dropped instantly.

you : of course

You barely had time to throw on a hoodie before the doorbell rang.

The moment you opened the front door, your heart nearly stopped.

James stood there soaked from head to toe.

Rainwater dripped from his dark hair, hoodie clinging to him completely, chest rising unevenly like he’d been running.

And his face—

Your breath caught.

A bruise bloomed dark along his cheekbone.

His lip was split slightly.

There was redness around one eye you knew would worsen by morning.

For a second, neither of you spoke.

James looked exhausted.

Not physically.

Something deeper than that.

Like he was holding himself together with whatever strength he had left.

“Hey,” he said softly.

The normalness of it almost hurt more.

“Oh my god,” you whispered.

His eyes dropped immediately, embarrassed.

“Can I come in?”

You moved aside without hesitation.

The second the door shut behind him, you reached for him instinctively.

James flinched.

Small.

Quick.

But enough.

Your chest shattered quietly.

“Sorry,” he murmured immediately, voice hoarse. “I didn’t mean to—”

“James.”

You said his name so gently that he finally looked at you again.

And suddenly he just looked young.

Not your calm, composed boyfriend who always took care of everyone else.

Just an eighteen-year-old boy standing in your hallway drenched in rain with bruises on his face.

“What happened?”

He swallowed hard.

“It’s nothing.”

“Don’t do that.”

Silence.

Rain hammered against the roof.

James stared somewhere over your shoulder before letting out a shaky breath.

“He got mad,” he admitted quietly.

You felt sick.

Your hands curled into fists automatically.

“Your dad?”

He doubted. You could see it in the way he stood, in the way his brows knitted togheter, and how his eyes would keep avoiding yours. Then, a single nod.

That was all.

No details.

None needed.

You stepped closer carefully this time, slow enough that he could pull away if he wanted.

He didn’t.

“Did he do this?” you whispered, fingers hovering near the bruise on his cheek without touching it.

James looked ashamed.

Ashamed.

Like this was somehow his fault.

“It wasn’t that bad.”

Your eyes burned instantly.

“James.”

“It’s okay.”

“No, it isn’t.”

Something in his expression cracked then.

Tiny.

But visible.

James looked down fast after that, jaw tightening like he regretted letting you see even that much.

“I didn’t know where else to go,” he admitted quietly.

That nearly destroyed you.

Without another word, you wrapped your arms around him.

For one startled second he stayed stiff.

Then he melted.

Completely.

You felt his hands grip the back of your hoodie hard enough to wrinkle the fabric as he buried his face against your shoulder.

Neither of you spoke.

You just held him while rainwater soaked into your clothes and his breathing slowly grew uneven.

“Oh, James,” you whispered, one hand moving into his wet hair carefully.

The sound he made was so quiet you almost missed it.

Not crying.

James probably hated crying.

But close.

“You’re okay,” you murmured. “You’re okay now.”

His grip tightened.

You realized then that James wasn’t used to this.

Not comfort.

Not softness after pain.

Like he’d learned to endure things quietly because there’d never been another option.

The thought made your chest ache.

Eventually, you pulled back enough to look at him.

“You’re freezing.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re literally shaking.”

“That’s dramatic.”

Despite everything, a tiny smile tugged at your lips.

There he was.

Still trying to make things lighter even now.

You guided him upstairs after that, ignoring his weak complaints while digging through drawers for dry clothes.

James sat on the edge of your bed while you fussed over him with quiet determination.

“Lift your head.”

“You’re bossy.”

“And you’re injured. Tilt your chin up.”

His mouth twitched slightly, but he obeyed.

Carefully, you dabbed ointment against the cut on his lip.

James hissed quietly.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

Your fingers brushed his jaw lightly while cleaning the bruise near his eye, and his gaze stayed fixed on your face the entire time.

Soft.

Tired.

You could feel it—the way he was watching you like he couldn’t quite believe this was real.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you asked quietly.

James blinked slowly.

“You’re taking care of me.”

The simplicity of the statement hurt.

“Of course I am.”

He looked down after that.

His voice became smaller.

“He said I make things difficult.”

You stopped moving immediately.

Anger flashed hot through your chest.

But when James finally looked back at you, all you could see was hurt buried under years of trying not to show it.

“You know that’s not true, right?”

He shrugged weakly.

“No, James.” You set everything aside before kneeling in front of him. “Look at me.”

Slowly, his eyes met yours.

“You are not difficult to love.”

The words hit him visibly.

You watched it happen.

James’s expression faltered all at once, like something inside him physically gave way.

“He shouldn’t treat you like that,” you whispered. “None of this is your fault.”

For a second, he looked terrifyingly close to crying.

Then he laughed softly instead.

A broken little sound.

“You always say things like that.”

“Because they’re true.”

“You make everything feel…” He struggled for the word. “Like I’m a good person.”

Your heart ached so badly it almost felt unbearable.

Without thinking, you reached up and held his face carefully between your hands.

“You’ are baby.” you promised.

James closed his eyes immediately.

Like hearing those words exhausted him.

After a moment, he leaned forward slowly until his forehead rested against yours.

You stayed like that in silence.

Close enough to share breaths.

Close enough to feel the tension slowly leaving his body piece by piece.

Then, quietly, James whispered:

“I don’t know what I would do without you.”

Your throat tightened instantly.

He sounded almost embarrassed admitting it.

Like tenderness was something he had to earn instead of something he deserved freely.

You kissed him before he could look away.

Soft.

Careful of the bruise near his cheek.

James inhaled shakily against your mouth, one hand sliding around your wrist like he needed something steady to hold onto.

When you pulled back, he rested his head against your shoulder immediately.

Tired.

So tired.

“You can stay as long as you want,” you murmured into his hair.

He nodded once.

And later that night, after your parents had welcomed him in without questions and after the storm outside softened into drizzle, James fell asleep beside you with his hand still holding yours under the blankets.

Even asleep, he held on tightly.

Like he was afraid this warmth might disappear by morning.

So you squeezed his hand back gently.

Just in case no one ever had before.