Kawai!!! (Posts tagged kpdh abby)

Anonymous asked:

Can I request headcanons for Huntrix and Saja Boys (separate) reacting to shy female reader confessing to her/him please?

Shy Confession

|Huntr/x masterlist| |Saja Boys masterlist|

Rumi

Rumi is the last person who thinks someone would confess to her, especially someone sweet, shy, and gentle like you.
When you approach her, she’s relaxing backstage after rehearsal, wiping sweat from her brow, humming lightly.
You timidly say her name.
She turns with her usual warm leader-smile—until she sees your shaking hands.
Her first instinct is worry.
“Are you okay? Did something happen? Are you hurt?”
She steps closer, placing a gentle, supportive hand on your shoulder.
But when you take a shaky breath and confess—
“I… I like you, Rumi… I’ve liked you for a long time…”
—her whole world stops.
Rumi freezes.
She blinks once. Twice.
Her lips part, but no sound comes out.
Her demon patterns faintly flicker pink.
Not from stress this time—
from the overwhelming, warm rush of emotion she’s never allowed herself to indulge in.
She immediately looks away, covering her mouth with the back of her hand, embarrassed by her own reaction.
Inside, she’s spiraling:
‘She likes me? Why? How? I can’t—she deserves someone safe. Someone normal. Not a half—’
You softly calling her name pulls her out of the spiral.
Rumi steps closer, gently taking your hands with both of hers.
Her voice is trembling despite her usual confident tone: “Y/n… I… You don’t know how much your words mean to me.”
She admits she’s scared—terrified even—of someone loving her.
Terrified of hurting you.
Terrified you’ll regret this.
But she also tells you the truth: “I’ve liked you too. I just… didn’t think I was allowed to.”
She hugs you—slow, warm, careful.
Buries her forehead in your shoulder.
Then pulls back with the softest smile you’ve ever seen her wear.
Rumi becomes protective immediately:
walking you to practice, giving you her jacket, texting to check on you, lending you her shoulder to lean on.
She is shy at first, but she glows—literally—around you.

Mira

You confess to Mira in a quiet corner of the agency, hands twisting, voice barely audible.
She notices EVERYTHING.
The fidgeting.
The trembling breath.
The way you avoid her eyes.
Mira crosses her arms, eyebrow raised:
“Spit it out. You’re acting weird.”
When you confess, her brain short-circuits. You: “I… l-like you, Mira…”
Mira: “……”
She suddenly looks away, cheeks burning.
Yes—Mira blushes. Hard.
She pushes her bangs back aggressively as if that will help her process.
Then she jabs a finger at you:
“You can’t just say that! I mean— you can—but— I— DAMN IT.”
She starts pacing.
She mutters things like: “Why me? Why you? Why now? God, I knew something was off… Damn it, Mira…”
But the more she processes it, the softer her expression becomes.
She stops pacing, exhales, and steps up to you.
She lifts your chin so you meet her eyes. “I like you too, idiot.”
(Her voice cracks slightly.)
She pulls you into a rough, sudden hug—
as if she’s scared she’ll chicken out if she hesitates.
After the hug, she gently flicks your forehead:
“Next time, don’t look like you’re about to faint when talking to me.”
She walks around bragging to Zoey and Rumi later:
“Yeah. Y/n confessed to me. Obviously.”
But when she’s alone?
She’s kicking her feet on her bed like a teenager.

Zoey

Zoey is the easiest to fluster and the quickest to squeal.
You ask to talk to her in private.
She’s instantly excited and curious.
When you confess—
her reaction is explosive.
Eyes widen. Hands fly to her mouth.
“NO WAY— NO WAY NO WAY NO WAY—”
She jumps in place, squeaking.
Her ears are bright red.
She looks at you like you hung the moon: “You like me? Like… for real? Like… LIKE like??”
You nod shyly.
Zoey melts.
Actually melts.
She drops to a squat, hugging her knees, overwhelmed by joy.
Then she springs back up and hugs you so tightly your feet lift off the ground for a moment.
She’s babbling:
“You’re so cute—oh my god—I can’t believe—this is real?? ME???”
She holds your hands, swinging them back and forth.
She becomes sunshine. Pure sunshine.
Writes lyrics about you that very night.
Instantly asks if she can introduce you to her dog.
Wants to match bracelets.
Wants to take pictures every day.
She tells Mira and Rumi within five minutes—literally bursting into their room. “GUESS WHO HAS A GIRLFRIEND???”

Jinu

You wait until he’s alone—leaning on the balcony railing, night wind brushing his hair.
When you confess quietly, eyes downcast—
Jinu actually loses composure for a moment.
His smile falters—just slightly.
Enough to show genuine shock.
You’re shy, trembling, soft-spoken…
And he is a demon used to seducing humans, not receiving sincere affection.
He gently lifts your chin with his fingers:
“Y/n… do you understand what you’re saying?”
There’s no teasing in his tone—just real curiosity.
When he realizes your feelings are genuine—
something fragile flickers in his eyes.
You remind him of what he used to be.
A human capable of being loved.
He steps closer, voice soft:
“I find myself… drawn to you as well.”
He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, savoring your flustered reaction.
He’s calm, composed, but internally?: ‘Why does this hurt? Why does it feel warm? Why does she look at me like I’m worth something?’
He holds your waist gently, almost reverently. “If you choose me… don’t expect me to let you go easily.”

Abby

You confess after one of his workouts; he’s wiping sweat with a towel.
He smirks immediately:
“Oh? You nervous? You’re cute when you’re shaking like that—”
Then you confess.
His smirk dies.
Abby freezes mid-pose like a glitched NPC.
His ears turn red.
His posture straightens.
He actually drops the towel.
“Wait— You’re serious?”
When you nod shyly, he rubs the back of his neck, suddenly awkward.
“Damn… you should warn a guy first…”
He steps forward, cornering you lightly against a wall—but his voice is softer than ever. “I like you too, sweetheart. More than I should.”
His demon instincts want to scoop you up and never let go, but he restrains himself.
Instead he cups your cheek with one warm hand.
“Seriously… you’re too precious for me.”
Cue him bragging to Romance later:
“She confessed first. Obviously I’m irresistible.”
But he’s secretly floating.

Romance

You confess after rehearsal while he’s sitting on the couch scrolling his phone.
When you stammer out your feelings, Romance stops mid-scroll.
He slowly lowers his phone.
Eyes narrowing.
Not suspicious—interested.
He stands and circles you like a predator assessing prey.
“So the shy little thing has a crush on me?”
You nod, face burning.
He steps closer, bending slightly so your foreheads almost touch. “Say it again.”
You repeat it, barely above a whisper.
His chest rises sharply.
Not from lust—
from surprise he can’t hide quickly enough.
He hooks a finger under your chin: “I suppose it’s only fair to tell you… your little heart isn’t alone.”
His touch is deliberately slow; his voice low.
He brushes his thumb over your lips before pulling back with a sly smile.
But when you’re gone?
He presses a hand to his chest, annoyed: ‘Why is my heart beating like this?’

Mystery

You confess while he’s sitting alone, legs crossed, head down, hair covering his eyes.
When you whisper your feelings…
he freezes.
Mystery doesn’t move.
Doesn’t breathe.
Doesn’t react for several full seconds.
Then his shoulders rise in a tiny, shaky breath.
He tilts his head slightly, letting just a sliver of an eye show beneath his bangs.
Golden glow. Soft. Disbelieving.
He stands slowly and approaches you.
Every movement precise and hesitant.
He lifts his hand halfway—then stops.
Scared to touch you.
Finally, he places his palm to your cheek.
His thumb trembles.
A whisper—
the first word he’s said to you in days: “Yes…”
He pulls you gently into his chest, resting his chin atop your head.
His heartbeat is fast—wild—nothing like his usual stillness.
He keeps you there for a long time, silently basking in your warmth.

Baby

You find Baby sitting on the studio floor playing with some random prop toys he stole from a set.
When you confess timidly, Baby doesn’t even look up.
“Hm. Okay.”
You think he rejected you.
You start apologizing, panicking—
Then he turns his head slowly, eyes narrowing at your tears.
“Why are you crying?”
You stammer, hands shaking, “B-Because you— I thought you—”
He sighs dramatically and stands, brushing dust off his oversized sweater.
He walks up to you.
Stares straight into your eyes.
And says in his unimpressed monotone: “I like you too. Obviously.”
Your shock makes him roll his eyes—
but his ears are bright pink.
He takes your hand, intertwines your fingers, and starts walking. “Come on. If you like me you have to sit with me while I work.”
That’s his version of affection:
holding your hand while pretending he doesn’t care.
But when you’re not looking?
He smiles softly.

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Matching in Color |Huntr/x ver.|

|Saja Boys masterlist|

Jinu blinks slowly at first—like his brain needs a reboot.

His eyes soften instantly, the dark color reflecting something warm.

“…Your hair…”

He reaches out gently, brushing a strand between his fingers. He’s unusually quiet, almost shy, his voice a low murmur:

“It suits you… too well, actually.”

Then he looks away with a tiny smile, clearly flustered.

He acts chill afterward, but keeps stealing glances when he thinks you’re not looking. When you sit beside him, he rests his chin on your shoulder, playing with your hair absentmindedly.

Late at night, he finally whispers:

“Thank you…for choosing my color.”

It hits him deeper than he wants to admit.

Abby immediately gasps. Dramatically.

“Oh my GOD— We’re matching?? And you didn’t tell me??”

He takes your face in both hands, sparkling with delight. He’s grinning like he won the lottery.

“You look PERFECT. No—better than perfect. You look like you walked straight out of my dreams.”

He spends like ten minutes touching the ends of your hair like it’s the most fascinating thing in the world.

Then he flexes next to you in the mirror:

“We are the hottest couple alive.”

He insists on taking shirtless mirror selfies together, your hair glowing next to his pink hair.

But later, when it’s just you two, he gets a little more real, pulling you into a hug:

“…You really did this for me, huh?”

His voice softens in a way he almost never lets anyone hear.

Romance freezes dramatically, hand over his chest.

“…My love… You chose MY color?”

He cups your face with both hands, leaning close like he’s about to perform a love confession on stage.

“You look breathtaking.”

He takes slow, soft photos of you with his phone—like he’s photographing a delicate flower.

All day he’s extra romantic, opening doors, guiding you by the waist, brushing your hair behind your ear.

And every time he looks at you, he sighs dramatically:

“We’re really meant to be.”

Mystery doesn’t react loudly—
He just stops.

His head tilts slightly, his hair shifting to the side as he stares.

Then he steps close, very slowly, lifting a hand to touch your hair. His fingers glide through it with a feather-light gentleness.

A whisper:

“…You match me.”

It hits him harder than he expected.

He doesn’t speak for a long moment, just rests his forehead against yours, breathing you in.
His hands settle on your waist, holding you like you might disappear.

He keeps touching your hair absentmindedly for the rest of the day—curling strands around his fingers, tucking them behind your ear, brushing them from your eyes.

Later, when you’re lying together, he finally murmurs:

“…Beautiful.”

It’s rare for him to verbalize affection, and he means every syllable.

Baby stops mid-bite of his snack and stares.

No emotion.
Just staring.

Then:

“…You dyed it my color.”

He gets up, walks over, and grabs a handful of your hair, holding it up to compare it with his own.

Nods once.

“…Nice.”

But then he pulls you into his lap and hides his face in your shoulder, mumbling:

“…Thanks.”

He keeps tugging on your hair playfully the rest of the day, little smirks appearing on his lips whenever he looks at you.

And though he pretends not to care, he sits extra close to you, hooking his pinky with yours whenever no one’s watching.

Later that night, when you’re falling asleep, he whispers quietly:

“…I like matching with you.”

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Silken Fang quotes

Obanai!Y/n: Do you still love me?

Abby: Of course i do! What kind of question is that?!

Obanai!Y/n: Even though sometime i’m mean to you?

Abby: Babe. ESPECIALLY because you’re mean to me. It turns me on.

A/n: I honestly think it’s related to all Saja boys, because i’m sure they have masochistic tendencies-

obanai!reader kpdh kpop demon hunters kpop demon hunters x reader kpdh x reader saja boys saja boys x you saja boys x reader abby x reader abby saja abby kpdh abby saja x reader abby saja x you abby saja kpdh kpdh abby abby kpop demon hunters

Anonymous asked:

Do you Think you can do one where Huntrix and the Saja Boys (Separate) are Reader's exes but they want Reader back?

Still Not over You

|Huntr/x masterlist| |Saja Boys masterlist|

Rumi

On stage, she looks fine — polished, confident, radiant — but the truth is she hasn’t been fine since you left.
She keeps replaying your last fight in her head: the things she said, the way she tried to “protect you by pushing you away.”
It kills her because she only ever wanted you safe. But now you’re gone, and she realizes you didn’t need protection — you just needed her honesty.
Rumi will never beg. But she’ll find ways to linger in your orbit: showing up at places you frequent “by accident,” sending small gifts anonymously — a keychain you once admired, a letter written but unsigned.
When you finally see her again, her voice cracks just once: “I shouldn’t have let you go. I thought distance would keep you safe… but it only broke me.”
If you even hesitate for a second, that spark of hope in her eyes is devastatingly fragile.
She wants to earn you back — slowly, quietly, without manipulation. But the moment she feels you’re slipping away again? The demon in her aches — protective, desperate, terrified to lose you twice.

Mira

She acts like she’s over you. “Tch. Whatever. People move on.”
But everyone knows she hasn’t.
Her temper’s been worse. Her choreography’s gotten sharper — angrier. Every lyric she writes sounds like an argument she never finished.
When she sees you out with someone new? Her jaw clenches. She’ll scoff and mutter, “Seriously? Them?” — but she goes home and sits in silence for hours, staring at old photos.
Mira’s approach to getting you back isn’t soft. She shows up. Boldly. “You can pretend you don’t miss me, but I know that look. I taught you that look.”
She’s not above jealousy. But what really cuts through her anger is the fear of being forgotten.
Beneath her sharp tongue and crossed arms, she’s trembling with the thought: What if you never come back?
And when you see her break — her voice low, raw — you realize how much she’s been holding in. “I didn’t know how to love you right. But I’m trying now. Please… let me try.”

Zoey

The most openly emotional one. She cries during interviews when songs remind her of you — fans think it’s “acting.” It’s not.
She keeps your contact name in her phone as “🌻 my sunshine” — never deleted it.
Zoey’s the one who texts you first. “Hey… I know we’re not us anymore, but I saw your favorite drink at the store and thought of you 🥺”
She doesn’t want to guilt-trip you. She just doesn’t know how to stop loving you.
Her room is full of little reminders — your old hoodie, Polaroids tucked behind her mirror, lyrics she wrote about you in pink ink.
When she finally sees you again, she hugs you without asking. You can feel her trembling. “I know I messed up… but can we just start with coffee? Please?”
She’ll fight for you — not with weapons, but with sincerity. Every smile, every gentle touch, every song she writes… is a quiet way of saying: I still love you.

Jinu

You thought you were free of his charm — but he never really lets go.
Jinu doesn’t chase in obvious ways. He manipulates proximity. Suddenly, he’s everywhere again — the same events, the same late-night radio shows.
“Coincidence,” he says with a smile that’s too knowing.
But when the mask slips, the truth burns: he regrets everything. His lies, his secrecy, the way he made you feel small.
“You were the one part of me that was still human,” he admits one night, voice low. “And I ruined it.”
His hands shake when he touches your wrist — careful, reverent. “Let me make it right. Just once.”
It’s unclear if he wants redemption or ownership — maybe both.

Abby

He’s angry you left. Not at you — but at himself for letting you.
Still, he hides it behind teasing smiles and cocky words: “Miss me yet, gorgeous?”
But you can tell the difference. The humor doesn’t reach his eyes anymore.
He still sends flowers to your door — the kind you used to blush over — but there’s no card.
When he sees you again, he laughs softly. “Guess some habits die hard, huh?”
Abby wants to win you back by reminding you — of how good it was, of every electric glance and every late-night whisper.
But in the quiet, when he drops the act, his voice breaks. “You were the only one who looked at me and didn’t see a demon. How do I live with that?”

Romance

He’s miserable without you, but refuses to admit it.
Still performs, still flirts, still acts like the world adores him — but every heart-shaped gesture he conjures on stage feels hollow.
Offstage, he writes poems. You’re in every one.
He’ll send them anonymously — written on parchment, sealed with wax — like love letters from a ghost.
When you finally recognize his handwriting, he shows up the next night. “So you read it, then? Good. Because I meant every damn word.”
Romance doesn’t beg — he woos. Serenades. Appears at your doorstep with roses and a smirk that hides trembling hands.
“You think I can love anyone the way I loved you? Don’t flatter yourself — no one else can break me like you do.”

Mystery

He disappears completely after the breakup.
No calls, no sightings, no closure. Just… silence.
But you start noticing small things — your favorite flower appearing near your dressing room, the faint scent of his cologne where no one should’ve been.
He’s watching. Not in a threatening way — but like he’s trying to find the courage to face you again.
When he finally does, he says almost nothing. Just: “I thought staying away would help. It didn’t.”
His hands hover, like he’s scared you’ll vanish if he touches you.
The words “I miss you” sound foreign on his tongue — but they’re the truest thing he’s ever said.
For the first time, he seems human.

Baby

He pretends he’s fine. Acts like your breakup was just a passing thing. “Oh, Y/n? Yeah, we’re chill.”
Lies. All of it. He can’t even listen to your name without his jaw tightening.
You catch him scrolling through your socials at 3AM, liking posts from months ago.
When you see him again, his expression is unreadable. “You look good,” he mutters. “Better without me, huh?”
He says it like a joke, but there’s an ache in his voice that makes your chest tighten.
Baby doesn’t ask for another chance directly. Instead, he lingers — texts you memes, checks if you’ve eaten, sends songs that “remind him of you.”
Eventually, you realize what he’s doing: trying to become familiar again, so you’ll let him back in without noticing.
And if you do? He smiles faintly. “Guess you missed me after all.”

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Huntr/x and Saja boys are interested in lives in the underwater (P.s. They don’t know they are eating humans)

Rumi: so most of the time females are the head of the family?

Caelis: Indeed, Mademoiselle Rumi! Female sirens and mermaids are much stronger than males.

Ravelle: Female sirens and mermaids are seen as extensions of the Sea Goddess or the Sea itself. It came after our patroness Amphitrite. Poseidon’s wife.

Mira: So… In short, there is matriarchy.

Caelis&Ravelle: Indeed!/Yeah.

Romance: My~ *turned to look at Ravelle with a teasing smile*

Abby: No wonder you two act all dolled up around girls.

M!Y/n: It’s called manners, Abby.

Jinu: Now I think about it… I thought that men from the matriarchy were more modest and submissive *looked at you with a teasing smirk*

M!Y/n: *raised an eyebrow* Yeah? And did you imagine it often? *You leaned a bit closer to him* Are you haunted by the fantasy of a submissive man?

Jinu: …

Saja boys: …

Huntr/x: …

Caelis&Ravelle: …

M!Y/n: *Leaned back with a victorious grin*

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minniesmutt

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Kawai!!! (Posts tagged kpdh abby)

See, that’s what the app is perfect for.

Shy Confession

Rumi

Mira

Zoey

Jinu

Abby

Romance

Mystery

Baby

Matching in Color |Huntr/x ver.|

Still Not over You

Rumi

Mira

Zoey

Jinu

Abby

Romance

Mystery

Baby

☾ ━━━━━━ 𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐟!𝐬𝐤𝐳 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐤