i’m in a lot of fandoms so here’s a list: Love and Deepspace, Genshin Impact, Sander Sides, MLP, KPDH, Date Everything, The Arcana, Market of Monsters, MHA, and there prolly more 20 (they/them)
summary: when sparring with Lohen gets a little more personal than you expected…. (￣∀￣)
wc 1k
warnings: none, fluff, kissing, lohen being a psycho as usual. written pre-lohen release so possible ooc? gn!reader
a/n: my first time writing this kind of thing,, gulps please enjoy !! i couldn’t stop thinking of lohen so i wrote this :)
The harsh sound of weapons clanging echoed through the forest, mixed with heavy breaths and occasional laughs from the knight across from you. The forest’s wildlife had already scampered off long ago, as if they feared the very atmosphere spawned from your sparring match. The air hummed with energy, electric with anticipation - though maybe that was just Lohen’s doing.
It was more than evident that Lohen enjoyed this immensely.
Since the day you’d joined the Knights of Favonius, he’d desperately wanted nothing more than to spar with you. And now he got his chance - during training, when you finally agreed to take him up on it. Perhaps you were fed up with his constant asking, or perhaps you were genuinely a tad curious. On the outside, Lohen received the acceptance with a mild grin. On the inside, he was positively ecstatic.
“I’ll admit,” Lohen begins before he swings his polearm, “you’re quite impressive!” His voice is rife with emotion, more so than usual. Small beads of sweat trailed down his forehead as he kept up with you. The look on his face was pure manic, excitement mixed with passion. Maybe he was a little too into this…
You block his attack and manage to send his weapon flying out of his hands. It was unusual for Lohen to be so distracted; a part of you wondered if it was intentional. After all, he had seemed to be planning this for quite some time. The grin on his face widened as he stepped back, but not quickly enough. You plant your weapon in the dirt and instantly nudge him down by the shoulders, resulting in you leaned over him while he’s pinned down underneath you.
His teeth sink into his lower lip overzealously as his eyes narrow. A deep crimson hue spreads over his cheeks.
He loves this. And he isn’t the least bit inclined to hide it.
“Ohoho, seems like you’ve won…wanna go another round?” Lohen stares up at you with those familiar battle-crazed eyes, the ends of his ears flushing a pretty scarlet shade. His voice is hushed, lowered only for the two of you to hear.
“I knew it,” you begin, leaning minutely closer to him, “you didn’t just want to train. You’ve been plotting, haven’t you, Lohen?”
Lohen snickers, reaching for his knife. You catch his wrist, pinning it above his head. He isn’t opposed to that, either. “Hehe. You caught me. I’ve been found out!”
“What do you think the others would say if they saw you like this? The Vice Captain of the 5th Company, surrendering this easily?” You tease, grabbing the dagger that Lohen had just dropped to his side. His eyes follow your fingers as they wrap around the knife’s handle, that familiar flame of thirst sparking within his eyes.
“The Grand Master wouldn’t care! He knows I break the rules alllll the time, and he still keeps me around!” Lohen giggles, gesturing wildly with his free hand. That hand isn’t free for long, though, as it soon joins the other above his head. He nudges at your calf with his boot - the only real way he can get to you without his hands free - as a way to keep your attention on him for as long as possible.
“But what would the Knights think? They already think you’re crazy, maybe a little deluded - you want to add lustful to that list?”
Lohen grins. “They already think that, too. They’ve seen us training together…and I’ve heard them talking a lot,” he pauses, eyes flicking to yours, yet he doesn’t finish his thought.
One of your hands has the Vice Captain’s wrists pinned while the other traces his blade across his jaw. He lets out a small deranged laugh, running his tongue over his lips desirously. There’s a silent agreement between you two that you won’t actually cause any significant harm to him, even without voicing it verbally. He trusts you, and you trust him, even without saying it to each other.
So, you nick his cheek with the knife. Just a tiiiiny bit, enough to draw a drop or two of blood. Lohen makes a low sound, savoring the feeling you’ve given him.
You set aside the knife, and with two gloved fingers, wipe the blood across his cheek. He mumbles something under his breath, something about a ‘reward’.
“You’re so cute like this, Lohen,” you tease, leaning a shred closer, “we should do this more often. This…’training’.”
He smiles at your words - not his usual crazed one, but a genuine gentle tilt of his lips. You’ve never seen that look on his face before, and it’s absolutely adorable.
Things still between the two of you for just a moment, and it seems that both of you you want the same thing deep down.
You softly place a hand on the side of his face, lean in slowly, and place a kiss on his lips. Lohen gasps, then readjusts to return the affection. He snickers under his breath when you let his wrists free and he wraps his arms around the back of your neck.
Every part of him is warm and soft, especially his lips. Not to mention you can practically hear his heart pounding out of his chest. It’s endearing, honestly; you’ve never seen him let his guard down like this.
Lohen’s hand fists in your hair as he makes another soft noise, his other hand placed on your back, between your shoulders. One of your own arms holds you up while the other hand rests on his cheek, stroking his skin back and forth with your thumb.
When the two of you finally break apart and sit up, Lohen’s cheeks are flushed (as are yours) and his chest is heaving. Nobody’s ever kissed him like that, and to call him overwhelmed would be an understatement. But he attempts to brush it off with his typical confidence.
“W…wow! That was, uh, something else…” he trails off, his voice slightly wobbly. Before he has the chance to say anything else, you slip your arms around him and pull him into a gentle hug. His chin rests on his shoulder as his arms slowly wind around you, returning the hug.
“…yeah, you were right. We really should do this more often.”
do not reupload / use for ai !! likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated !! :)
links to fics set in the roadies alternate universe! i finally got off my butt and gathered up all the fics (for your convenience, but really for mine as well, i reread them a lot ahaha 😅)
let me know if i missed any fics or you have something to add to the list (doesn't have to be on AO3). the roadies au is very free form and the canon is very loose.
please note that many of the fics are for adult readers only, so please heed the ratings and the tags for each piece! for ease, i am linking to series pages if available.
Y'ALL OWE MYSTERY BIG TIME. SAD PUPPY EYES TO THE RESCUE.
emotional self-regulation through radical empathy! you did it baby!
i really phoned in that last panel but i'm about to eat some hot wings and watch sinners. everyone have a good new year!
mystery's haircut
abby's haircut (MULTIPLE people wanted to see him buzzed)
romance's haircut courtesy of @sprite-candy
jinu's haircut as suggested by @artztatu
JINU :: “YOU DONT EVEN REALIZE WHAT YOU DO TO ME.”
you didn’t notice the way he stared.
you’d only meant to be polite—smiling as the new producer introduced you to one of the rising idol trainees he was mentoring. the boy was sweet, younger than you, a little nervous. so you offered him a drink, complimented his jacket, maybe laughed a little too easily when he made an awkward joke. it wasn’t flirty, just kind. you didn’t even think about how close he stood, or how his eyes lingered a little too long on your lips when you talked.
but jinu noticed.
across the room, leaned in a dark corner like he was carved out of shadow, jinu saw every second. every laugh, every brush of your fingers against the boy’s arm, every soft look you gave that you didn’t even realize you were giving. he stood still, too still, like something ancient and dangerous waiting to be summoned. his jaw was locked, his eyes dark, and the minute the trainee leaned in just a little too close to whisper something to you—jinu vanished from the room without a sound.
you found him outside twenty minutes later. sitting on the hood of a sleek black car, elbows on his knees, eyes burning holes into the pavement.
“you looked like you were having fun,” he said before you could speak.
“he was just talking,” you replied gently.
“he wasn’t.” jinu turned toward you slowly, his expression blank, but his voice heavy with strain. “he was picturing things he’ll never get to touch.”
you blinked. “he’s just a kid—he was nervous—”
“you don’t even realize what you do to people,” he said, stepping toward you. “you smile and they fall in love. you laugh and they think they have a chance. and you—you just let it happen. you don’t even see it.”
your heart squeezed, your voice smaller now. “i didn’t mean to.”
“i know you didn’t.” he stopped in front of you, close enough that the wind barely fit between your bodies. “and that’s what drives me fucking crazy. you weren’t trying, and you still made him want you.”
his hand came up slowly, gently brushing your cheek, fingertips curling beneath your jaw. “do you know how hard it was to stay standing there? watching him look at you like that?”
you leaned into his touch without thinking. “no one else gets to touch me.”
“say it again,” he whispered, breath trembling against your skin.
“no one gets to have me,” you said, firmer now. “only you.”
the kiss hit you like heat.
he didn’t ask. he didn’t warn you. just took your mouth with his, hands sliding around your waist, gripping you tight like he was making sure no one could ever pull you away again. the kiss was messy, all tension and hunger, lips bruising and breath shared between gasps. his body pressed into yours, pinning you against the hood of the car, and you felt the barely restrained growl in his throat as your fingers tugged at his jacket.
he kissed you like a man starved. and when he broke for air, his voice came out rough, shaky, thick with need.
“i don’t want to stop.”
you looked up at him, lips swollen, chest heaving.
his eyes were glowing now—softly, unmistakably golden.
he tilted his head, leaned in close, and murmured, “get in the car.”
ROMANCE :: “SO WHY DOES IT HURT LIKE HEARTBREAK?”
you didn’t mean to ignore him.
he was running late, which wasn’t unusual for romance. he always made an entrance—flowing coat, lips pink with gloss, some tragic playlist spilling from his earbuds. so when he texted you that he was on the way, you just smiled and slipped deeper into the group conversation already happening at the café.
the guy across from you was one of your mutuals, someone from a label romance used to work with—a charming choreographer with too many rings and a lazy kind of smile. he leaned in when he spoke, complimented your laugh, told you you looked softer than usual tonight. you brushed it off with a smile, trying not to overthink it.
what you didn’t notice—what you didn’t see—was romance walking in just in time to catch that look on the guy’s face. that lean. that moment.
his smile didn’t crack when he reached your table. he greeted everyone just like always, leaning down to kiss the top of your head as if he hadn’t noticed anything at all. but you felt it. the tension in the way he held your waist just a second longer. the way his laugh didn’t quite reach his eyes.
he was quiet the rest of the night. too quiet for someone called romance.
and when you walked out together, into the cool shimmer of streetlights and distant music, he still hadn’t said anything.
you tugged on his sleeve. “hey. what’s wrong?”
he looked down at you, blinking like you’d interrupted a spiral. his voice was soft.
“do you like him?”
you frowned. “what?”
“the choreographer.” his tone was still gentle, but his jaw tensed at the name. “you were laughing so much. and he kept looking at you like you were dessert.”
“i was just being friendly,” you said quickly, grabbing his hand. “i didn’t even realize.”
he let you hold him, but his eyes dropped to the sidewalk. “you don’t get it. when you smile like that… it feels like i’m watching you slip through my fingers.”
your chest ached. “romance—i didn’t mean to make you feel that way.”
“i know,” he whispered, finally looking at you again. “but you did.”
his voice broke just slightly at the end, and it made something inside you collapse. you wrapped your arms around his neck without thinking, pressing your face into the curve of his collarbone. he breathed you in like he’d been suffocating all night.
“you’re the only one i want,” you said into his chest.
his fingers dug into your waist. “then tell me he meant nothing.”
“he meant nothing.”
he let out a shuddered breath, then pulled back just enough to look at you—his hands still on your hips, his mouth hovering so close it hurt.
“say it again,” he murmured.
you cupped his face, lips brushing his as you repeated it: “he meant nothing.”
and then he kissed you like poetry.
like every line he’d ever written was for this moment. his lips were warm, slow, aching. but beneath the softness was something wild. desperate. almost bruising in the way he pressed your body against his, like he couldn’t stand the thought of anyone else ever being that close again.
he kissed you like he was reclaiming you.
your fingers tangled in the back of his shirt. his hands slipped lower, gripping your thighs, pulling you closer, closer still—until he made a decision.
without warning, he lifted you.
a soft gasp left your throat as your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist. his hands were firm, steady under your thighs, his mouth never once leaving yours as he turned toward the alley beside the café — dark, narrow, quiet.
not rushed. not rough. just purposeful. claiming.
he broke the kiss only long enough to whisper, “you’re mine. say it again.”
“i’m yours,” you breathed against his cheek, trembling from how close his voice was to breaking.
he pressed you gently against the old brick wall, still holding you off the ground, his body flush to yours, eyes dark with everything he couldn’t say aloud.
“now, let me remind you,” he whispered, “exactly how much.”
ABS :: “YOU DIDN’T EVEN LOOK AT ME”
he was only gone for five minutes.
five minutes to grab his protein shake from the car. five minutes while the group tour break was winding down and the stylists were resetting. five minutes, and somehow that was long enough for some other guy to slide into the seat beside you.
abs stood frozen in the doorway when he walked back into the studio, bottle in hand, towel slung over his neck, sweat still clinging to his collarbone. you were laughing—head tilted back, eyes shining—and he felt his heart drop straight into his stomach.
it wasn’t that you weren’t allowed to laugh.
you just… weren’t laughing at him.
the guy beside you was one of the backup dancers for the shoot—new, lean, overly confident. he was leaning way too close, clearly trying too hard. and you? you weren’t pushing him away.
you were smiling.
you were blushing.
you didn’t even glance at abs when he passed by.
he didn’t say anything. didn’t make a scene.
he just dropped his bottle onto the bench, tugged off the rest of his overshirt, and went back to the mirror wall like he was supposed to — jaw clenched, muscles tight, too aware of every movement behind him. his body was on autopilot, but his mind kept flashing back to the way the guy had touched your arm when he made you laugh. how easily you’d leaned in, let him linger.
when rehearsal finally ended and people started filtering out, you made your way toward him like nothing was wrong. you smiled, casually, like the warmth in your eyes had been there for him all along.
“hey, abs—”
“you didn’t even look at me.”
his voice stopped you mid-step.
he wasn’t smiling. he wasn’t teasing. his eyes — always bold, always bright — were dark now, unreadable.
you tilted your head. “what?”
“the whole time.” he wiped at his face with the towel, then dropped it onto the bench, stepping toward you. “you didn’t look at me once.”
you blinked, caught off guard. “i didn’t realize—”
“you didn’t see me.” his voice was soft now, but dangerous. “you were too busy laughing at his dumb jokes. too busy letting him put his hands on you like he deserved to.”
you frowned, stepping closer. “he was just being friendly—”
“i don’t care if he was telling you the cure to death.” he was in front of you now, close enough for you to see the frustration trembling in his jaw. “i stood across the room and watched you give him everything you won’t give me.”
you sucked in a sharp breath. “what do you mean? i—”
his hands gripped your waist suddenly, dragging you forward until your chest met his — bare skin, flushed from dancing, warm and impossibly hard beneath your palms.
“you smile at everyone else like it costs nothing,” he murmured, his breath hot against your ear, “but you avoid me like i’m the one who’ll ruin you.”
your fingers curled against his abs — his actual abs — and he groaned low in his throat, like even that was enough to undo him.
“abs,” you whispered.
“tell me it’s not just me,” he said, eyes scanning yours. “tell me i’m not crazy for thinking that when you look at me like this…” his thumb dragged across your lower lip, “…it means something.”
“it does,” you breathed. “you do.”
that broke something in him.
his lips crashed into yours before you could say anything else. he kissed you like he’d waited all day to lose control — all tension and heat and too much teeth, like he needed to taste the words right off your mouth. his hands gripped the back of your thighs, and before you could process it, he’d lifted you — effortlessly, like you weighed nothing — and pinned you to the studio wall behind the changing curtain.
your legs wrapped around him instinctively. his forehead dropped to yours. your breaths mingled.
“you’re mine,” he growled, voice rough and low.
you nodded, eyes wide, pulse racing. “i’m yours.”
he kissed you again—harder this time, slower, like he wanted it to last.
and then he pulled back just enough to whisper—
“i hope you didn’t make any plans tonight.”
MYSTERY :: “DONT MAKE ME SHOW YOU”
you didn’t even know he was there.
you’d been standing near the snack table with one of the staff producers—just chatting, waiting for the next shoot block to begin. he was older, polite, a little too complimentary, but nothing you couldn’t handle. he smiled at you like he was trying to impress you. you laughed, thanked him for the candy he offered, shrugged when he said he liked your voice.
you didn’t think it mattered.
but behind you, partially hidden behind the set scaffolding, someone stood still. too still. a shadow folded inside itself. long strands of silver-lilac hair hiding the full weight of his stare.
mystery had been there since before the conversation started.
he hadn’t interrupted. hadn’t made a sound.
just watched.
the producer stepped closer. closer again. his laugh too familiar now. you leaned back slightly, uncomfortable for the first time.
and that’s when you felt it—
a presence behind you.
you turned, startled.
but the producer had already stopped talking. his face had gone pale.
because mystery was there. just behind you.
close. quiet. motionless.
his mouth was a straight line. his hair draped in front of his eyes like mist.
he didn’t say a word. didn’t have to.
you barely blinked, and the producer was already muttering something about “being needed on set” and backing away.
you turned slowly to face mystery, pulse fluttering. “were you there the whole time?”
he tilted his head. said nothing.
you took a breath. “he was just being nice.”
he didn’t blink.
you stepped forward, trying to read him, but his face was unreadable—like he was built from static and half-finished thoughts. but the energy pouring off him was unmistakable: jealousy.
not loud. not needy. but heavy. sharp. possessive in a way that buzzed in your teeth.
“i wasn’t trying to—”
he moved.
fast.
his hand found your wrist, pulling you into the shadows between the prop walls. you barely had time to react before your back hit the cold side of the sound booth, and he was there—towering over you, arms on either side of your head. his hair draped between you, brushing your cheek. and beneath the veil of silver, you saw it—
just a hint of his eyes.
dark. locked on your mouth.
burning.
“mystery—” you whispered, breath catching.
his hand rose, slowly. not to your waist. not to your throat.
to your lips.
his thumb dragged across them, slowly. like he was testing the softness.
his head tilted again, and this time, you caught it: the tiniest twitch of his jaw. like he was biting something back.
“are you mad?” you breathed, barely able to form the words.
he didn’t answer.
but he stepped closer—pressed himself flush to your body, one hand sliding to your lower back, the other tilting your chin up. still no words. just the quiet tremble of breath between you.
his mouth hovered next to your ear.
“don’t make me show you,” he whispered.
the sound of his voice—so rare, so low—made your whole body shudder.
you opened your mouth to speak, but he stopped you with the softest, briefest kiss—
just lips. no pressure. a warning.
and then his tongue flicked the corner of your mouth. curious. restrained.
and gone.
you exhaled a trembling breath. “i didn’t mean to make you jealous.”
his lips brushed your cheek, slow and deliberate. he didn’t move away. didn’t let go.
and then, in the softest, most dangerous voice you’d ever heard from him—
“well, don’t do it again.”
BABY :: “I WASN’T GOING TO SAY ANYTHING”
you were only waiting on your drink.
it was late. the others had gone ahead. baby had offered to walk you back, but you waved him off with a smile, promising you’d only be a minute. the convenience store was quiet, humming with cheap fluorescent light and the rustle of plastic-wrapped snacks.
you didn’t expect the cashier to flirt with you.
you didn’t even realize it was flirting at first—just thought he was being friendly. telling you he liked your outfit. asking if you came here often. calling you pretty so casually it barely registered.
you just laughed politely. made a joke. swiped your card.
and turned—
—right into baby.
he was waiting for you outside, under the neon buzz of the store sign. leaning against the wall. arms crossed. expression unreadable. his teal hair glinted under the flickering light.
you startled slightly. “you scared me.”
he didn’t move. didn’t speak.
just looked at you.
“…you good?”
nothing.
just the way his eyes flicked briefly back to the window.
to the guy who had just called you pretty.
you blinked. “he was just making conversation. i wasn’t—”
baby’s voice cut in low, low enough to make your skin tighten.
“i wasn’t going to say anything.”
he stepped forward once.
“but you keep testing me.”
your breath caught. “i’m not—”
“you smiled at him,” he said, still quiet, voice steady. “he looked at you like he could take something from me. and you let him.”
you opened your mouth. then shut it again.
because baby didn’t look angry.
he looked calm. way too calm.
and that was somehow worse.
“i wasn’t even thinking about him,” you said, softer now. “i didn’t realize it looked like—”
his hand caught yours suddenly. not rough, not loud.
but firm.
he pulled you around the side of the building, into the dark between concrete and vending machines, the air still heavy from summer heat.
his body caged yours against the wall before you could say another word.
his hands didn’t touch you — not yet — but they hovered, like he was waiting for permission he didn’t need.
you could feel him trembling.
“do you have any idea,” he said, eyes boring into yours, “how long i’ve been good?”
“baby—”
“how long i’ve watched you laugh at other people. play nice. let them look at you. want you. and i just stood there. because i trusted you.”
his voice dropped, almost a growl.
“but you don’t even see what it does to me.”
his palm flattened against the wall beside your head. his breath hit your cheek. his other hand lifted — barely grazing your collarbone, tracing the skin above your heart.
“i don’t want to be good anymore.”
you exhaled. “then don’t be.”
his lips brushed yours.
and then — just before he could take it further — he pulled back.
his eyes dropped to your lips. his voice came out hoarse, almost broken.
“tell me to stop.”
you didn’t.
and that was all it took.
his hand gripped your jaw. his mouth crashed into yours.
slow at first — like he wanted to taste everything you’d kept from him.
then deeper. heavier.
his hands at your hips now, your shirt fisted in his fingers, your back pressing into the wall with every breathless kiss.
he kissed like this was punishment.
or revenge.
or both.
he dragged his lips down to your jaw, and whispered —
“i hope you’re ready to deal with what you started.”
💬, OHHH MY GOSH I ACTUALLY SAW SOMEONE RECOMMEND MY ACCOUNT !!! MY HEART !!! I LUV YOU GUYYYSSS AHHH I CANT BELIEVE THIS !! I LUV SEEING THE WAY YALL TALK ABOUT MY WORK IT MAKES ME SO HAPPY, SEEING HOW MUCH YALL ENJOY MY WORK AHHH 😋🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼 ANYWAYS ENJOY THIS REQUEST !! i’ll work on twin sin part FOURRRR !!! also i hope i tagged everyone again !! PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF THERES A CERTAIN SAJA BOY OR JUST SAJA BOYS IN GENERAL THAT YOU WANNA BE TAGGED !! i have abby tags, saja boy tags, baby tags!! just let me know!
contents : reader is not a fan of theirs and they take it as a challenge , mild beefing with jinu, baby saja aegyo im sorry,
you couldn’t believe you’d given in. your friend had been bugging you for days about this new boy group that had debuted and you were getting tired of it.
she had been blowing up your phone with edits, memes, and variety show clips of these guys non stop from the moment she caught wind of them. you didn’t understand what the fuss was all about at all. where did they even come from? no big company behind them, no obvious ties to the industry. you were convinced something fishy was going on.
totally not because they were charting higher than the groups you loved.
regardless of your opinion on them, you had ended up in line for their fansign and would have to act interested for the next hour.
“you’ll fall in love with them after seeing them in person y/n, i swear!” your friend had exclaimed, her phone in your face displaying the results of the fansign lottery she had entered god-knows how many times to win these tickets.
you looked around at the others in the queue as she tried to predict which member would be your favourite. god, everyone here is obsessed. every single person other than yourself was completely dripped out in saja merch. not a causal fan in sight.
that thought became solidified when the doors finally opened and security began to allow everyone in. utter chaos erupted from all around you. screaming, crying and shaking fans pushed you from every direction. all you could do was allow yourself to be moved by the crowd into the building.
the building was a decent size but the sheer energy of the fans was taking up a lot more space than the room was set up for. you’re pretty sure your feet got stomped on twice and your hair got yanked out of the style you’d put it in this morning amidst the chaos, as well as losing your friend in the crowd .
after around fifteen minutes of elbow-jabbing hell you managed to squeeze yourself through to your assigned seats only to find your friend already sitting there “jeez, that was insane” you laughed as you sat down, hoping your friend would joke back and make fun of the crazy people too.
she didn’t respond. her attention was glued to the empty table up front, her hands nervously playing with the lion keychain on her purse. your eyes widened a little in shock. you had never seen her like this; so wound up over celebrities that she’d only known of for a few days.
before you could tease her, the room erupted into crazed shrieks once again.
the saja boys had arrived. they walked out in a line, hair swooshing perfectly and jewellery swinging just like in all the ads. yeah, they were hot. you couldn’t deny that. but you live in the city, there’s hot people everywhere! you weren’t convinced to join the mass psychosis of the pride just yet.
the boys bowed and thanked everyone for coming before taking their seats and setting up for the signing. security started to choose people to line up, your friend being one of the first.
you could’ve sworn you saw the light leave her eyes for a second, shock overtaking her at the thought of being one of the first people to go see them up close. you put your hand on her shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze.
“you’ve got this, go see them!” you smiled. as much as you thought she was overreacting, you knew she would beat herself up if she didn’t go up there. she nodded anxiously and let security guide her to the front.
you pulled out your phone and began recording her as she went along the line of idols, it was the least you could do for her after not being very enthusiastic about this whole thing.
once she finished chatting to the last member, she quickly skedaddled back to you and threw herself back down on the metal chair. the feet screeched across the floor a bit but no one noticed over the sound of her hyperventilating.
“oh my god, y/n……oh my god” she repeated, face in her hands.
you laughed nervously, worried that she would work herself up into a serious panic attack or something.
“mystery touched my hand…i can’t wash it ever again.” she choked out, showing you her very normal looking left hand.
“yeah…glad you enjoyed yourself” you said.
before you could show her the video you took, you felt a tap on your shoulder. a tall security guard stood over you in a defensive stance. he looked like he was expecting you to pounce on him.
“your turn”
your heart almost fell out of your chest, making you panic for a completely different reason. you couldn’t go up there, you weren’t sure you even remembered all of the members names. you weren’t a real fan, surely it wasn’t fair that you should meet a group you don’t even care about when there were thousands of people who would kill to be in your position right now.
“oh no thank you, i’m just here for emotional support. she can go again though!” you pointed towards your friend who was still cradling her hand like it had been blessed.
the security guard relaxed his muscles and stared at you as if you had just grown a second head.
“you don’t want to go? you need to go. it’s unfair if one fan gets double the time with saja boys. you have a ticket, you see them” he stated plainly, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
you looked to your friend for a second and mouthed a ‘i tried’ before reluctantly getting up from your seat and joining the line to meet the saja boys.
it takes you far too long to realise you don’t have anything for them to sign other than a crumpled napkin that’s been living in your back pocket for god knows how long.
jinu
the first member at the table is jinu. you know his name since he’s the one speaking in most of the promos and ads you’ve seen. he’s still finishing up talking to the girl in front of you but once she moves away he locks his attention onto you.
you look away awkwardly and sit down opposite him, only looking back up once you’re settled in your seat.
“hi” you say quietly, not really sure what to say to him. you’ve been to fansigns before but you’ve known the groups well and had so much to say to them that you’ve never had to worry much about there being an awkward silence before. this was a first for you.
he sees that you’re looking around a lot, not saying much, and assumes that it’s nerves. that’s the case with everyone he’s seen today. and the day before that, and the day before that.
“hey, no need to be nervous, what’s your name?” he asks, tilting his head to the side to try and meet your gaze.
your head shoots up, oh no he thinks you’re having a total fangirl freak out. you need to let him know that you’re chill and that he doesn’t need to do the whole loving idol shtick for you. it’ll make this a lot less awkward for both of you.
“oh nonono im not nervous, i just don’t have anything to say to you really” you start, laughing awkwardly.
“my friend dragged me here, i don’t even know all your names if i’m honest, i’ve only seen you guys do some ads and stuff and i’ve heard the song but i’m not too crazy about it so don’t worry about doing the whole ‘i care about you so much i love my fans’ act. i’m chill, you’re just some guy to me” you smile, genuinely hoping that it’ll relieve some tension from the situation and he can get a five minute break from being an idol while he chats to you.
jinus face completely drops. he looks a little disgusted even. he definitely didn’t take any of that as friendly and genuine. if he lifted a hand and asked for guards to seize you, you wouldn’t be surprised. shit.
“oh” he says, dumbfounded.
you stare at each other, both completely shocked by each others reaction. before the silence starts to make you itchy.
“my names y/n…by the way…” you blurt out, realising that he did ask your name.
something changes in him and you see it. like he’s been switched back onto regular programming. your slight moment of awkwardness reminds him that he does have the upper hand here. you’re not totally disinterested if you’re at least trying to make him comfortable–he can win you over. he smiles sweetly, relaxing his eyebrows.
“nice to meet you, y/n. i’m jinu, the leader of saja boys” he gestures over to the rest of the boys along the table.
“i would give you a heads up and tell you the names of the rest before you speak to them, but i think this is pretty funny” he says, his smile turning a bit sinister now that he’s switched his tone to teasing.
your mouth drops open. what an asshole.
you reluctantly hand over your napkin for him to sign, and he shoots you a confused look before flattening it out the best he can and signing his name with a little ‘:P’ next to it.
you narrow your eyes at him as you move over to the next seat, sticking your tongue out at him in defiance.
not like you care about the stupid beautiful saja boys names anyway
(you absolutely do now)
abby
you step over to the next chair and place yourself on it. sitting across from you is the second saja boy on the line up, one of the pink haired ones.
“hi” you say, meeting his eyes.
he says hello as he shifts in his seat, stretching his arms out behind him. you had watched him pull this move every single time someone new sat down in front of him so you were prepared to be met with his muscles up close.
what you weren’t prepared for though was for his shirt to come untucked from his jeans in the process, the waistband of his boxers daring to peek out from behind them and the shadows of his v-line revealing themselves to you.
the force it takes for you to wrench your eyes back up to look at his face could hold back an army. looking away feels like a sin. but you succeed. he grins when he makes eye contact with you again.
“want a copy?” he asks, pointing a finger to his stomach.
you don’t answer, but your face does. eyebrows screwing together in confusion.
he takes that as a yes and rips off a fresh piece of paper from a notebook he has on hand before slapping it across his lower torso and creating a tracing of his abs.
you can feel yourself gawk. who on earth does that? he seems so pleased with himself when he hands you the paper, signed.
“i won’t charge you any extra” he winks at you.
you can’t help but feel a twinge of admiration. he’s looking at you like a labrador that’s super proud of the hole it just dug in the garden. he doesn’t seem like he has any thoughts in his head at all.
you kind of like that.
“thanks.” you smile.
mystery
you slide into the seat across from saja number three, who’s already waving at you with both hands.
“hello” you say, waving back at him.
he’s wearing a longsleeved shirt that has thumb holes, giving him permanent sweater paws. it’s cute.
you decide to comment on it since he seems shy and being the first to speak might make things a little less awkward.
“i like your shirt. i used to cut holes like that into my school uniforms.” you admit, smiling at the memory. although yours was the result of crappy d.i.y. and his definitely cost most than your months wages.
he nods excitedly before creating claw shapes with his hands so you can see better. maybe he just doesn’t speak at all?
you stare at him for a little bit before snapping out of it and sliding your napkin over to him for him to sign. he takes it from you and goes to reach for a pen, but there’s none on this part of the table.
you start searching too once you notice what he’s looking for, but there are none on the floor or in the pen pot that’s sitting right next to him.
he grabs your attention quickly by waving his hands around frantically before raising a single finger to his lips in a ‘shhh’ motion.
next to him abby is posing, muscles on display for the fan in front of him. he’s so busy checking himself out through the fans eyes to notice mystery stealing his whole pot of pens.
you share a mischievous giggle with mystery as he triumphantly signs his name.
they all seem pretty close, maybe they aren’t a perfectly manufactured cash grab group after all.
romance
by the time you reach the fourth member he is covered in a ridiculous amount of hair accessories, necklaces and bracelets that have been gifted to him by fans. you scoot over to the seat across from him and try to keep a straight face as he removes a pair of huge sparkly pink sunglasses that were given to him by the last person.
“ah there we go, i can see your sweet face properly now” he says casually, placing the glasses down on the table.
you almost gasp out loud, the image of him looking so silly completely wiped from your memory. god that was smooth.
he takes the napkin you’ve been getting signed straight out of your hand, letting his fingers brush the back of your hand briefly.
“what’s your name, love?” he asks slowly, with the confidence of someone that knows his face would send poets mad.
“y/n” you stutter out. you aren’t sure how to speak to this guy who’s flirting so heavily with you, even if you suspect that he’s definitely like this with everyone.
he nods, as if it’s obvious.
you watch him as he signs his and your name together in a heart with a little plus in the middle.
he doesn’t comment on the napkin, you’re not sure if he even notices. he’s looking at you as if you’re the only thing that matters in the world, his dopey, loved up gaze piercing through your soul.
you reach to take the napkin back and he takes your hand as you grab it, flipping your hand over and kissing the napkin on top of your open palm.
there’s a faint lip gloss kiss-mark on it now. you didn’t even notice he was wearing any. he looks as if he wakes up in the morning with perfectly shiny lips.
god y/n snap out of it.
you don’t know how long you were just staring at each other for but before you could keep track you were being ushered to move to the next seat.
it takes you another hour until you notice the phone number daintily written around the heart.
baby
you finally reach the last member of the group and notice that he looks super young. he’s definitely the scary rapper that your friend always talks about, you remember something about his ‘crazy duality’.
he had been watching you as you were talking to the other members, unbeknownst to you. its not often they come across people that don’t care much for them already so he’s interested in speaking to you.
“this your first time seeing us?” he asks. it wasn’t a question really. he knows the answer, he just wants to see what you’d say.
you’re taken aback a little by how deep his voice is compared to his youthful face and the way he is styled. the fluffy pastel jumper doesn’t exactly scream baritone.
“uh, yeah. didn’t know a thing about you guys until today actually” you laugh awkwardly, sliding him your napkin to sign.
he takes it from you and nods, signing his name with bejewelled fingers.
“are you a fan now?” he asks cheekily, looking up at you with sparkling eyes. you try not to pay attention to his dimples and the way his cheeks seem to puff up like dumplings when he smiles.
“ah, i’m not sure. i’m just here for my friend” you say, trying to sound as polite as possible even though your words aren’t the kindest.
he scans the crowd briefly before locking eyes with who he assumes you came here with. you look over your shoulder too, towards your friend. she has her phone in the air, recording. yeesh.
the cogs start to turn in his mind, if he cant make a fan out of you now he should at least give you something to watch over and over until you become one.
“aww you’re not a fan of baby saja?” he pouted, grabbing your hands and placing them on both of his cheeks. he keeps his hands on top of yours for a good few seconds, running his fingers over yours while he holds them there.
you stare, shocked. this level of fan service is crazy, you think. you won’t be surprised if security come in and wrestle you away from him right now. surely this isn’t allowed.
“i might be…” you trail off, struggling to find anything else to say when you’re holding his face in your hands so tenderly.
“good!” he chirps, letting your hands fall away from him. he slides your napkin back over to you and waves you off “thank you for coming !”
Can I request suggestive headcanons for Saja Boys reacting to female reader smacking his butt playfully in private as a prank but he just moaned and told you to smack harder now for your advent calendar please? She fully expected him to be embarrassed, annoyed, or even chase her around to do the same but not this!
ADVENT CALENDAR 14.5 - 🎄SMACKING HIS BUTT🎄
hope you'll like it!🎄
☃️🎄☃️🎄☃️🎄☃️🎄☃️🎄☃️🎄☃️🎄☃️🎄☃️🎄☃️🎄
JINU❄️
You honestly thought he’d scold you. Or sigh. Or give you that look.
So when you smack his butt lightly as a joke while passing behind him you expect annoyance. What you get instead is a low, involuntary sound from his throat.
Jinu freezes. You freeze. The room goes silent. He slowly turns his head. “…Did you just do that.”
Your face is already on fire. “I— it was a joke—!”
He straightens, rolling his shoulders once, like he’s grounding himself.
“…Do not,” he says carefully, “do that unless you mean it.”
You blink. “Mean what?”
He steps closer, close enough that you feel his warmth. His voice drops. “Unless you want me to react.”
Your stomach flips. You try to laugh it off. “I thought you’d yell.”
His gaze darkens — calm, controlled, dangerously amused. “No,” he murmurs. “I would prefer you try again.” Then, quieter: “…Harder.”
You absolutely were not prepared for that.
MYSTERY🌨️
You honestly thought Mystery would flinch. Or freeze. Or quietly die of embarrassment.
Instead—you smack him lightly, giggling. He stiffens. Then exhales. Slowly. “…Do it again.”
You blink. “What?”
He turns his head, eyes half-lidded, expression unreadable but voice unmistakably affected. “…If you’re going to do it, do it harder.”
Your face heats instantly. “Mystery, I was just messing around—”
He steps closer, just enough to box you in without touching you. “I know,” he says softly. “That’s the problem.”
His gaze lingers on your face, watching your reaction carefully. “You thought I’d be embarrassed,” he continues. “But you didn’t think what it would do to me.”
You don’t know where to look. He leans in slightly, voice barely above a whisper: “Now I can’t stop thinking about it.”
Then he steps back, calm again, leaving you reeling.
ABBY🎄
You smack him. Lightly. Playfully. You’re already laughing and then Abby moans. Not loud. Not dramatic. But unmistakable.
You SHRIEK. “ABBY— NO— I DID NOT—”
He spins around instantly, eyes wide, face bright red. “I DIDN’T MEAN TO MAKE THAT SOUND—”
You stare at him in horror. “I WAS TRYING TO EMBARRASS YOU NOT TURN YOU ON!”
He blinks. “WELL YOU DID! BESIDES HOW COULD YOU THINK I'D BE EMBARRASSED!”
He steps closer, hands raised in surrender but tone suddenly playful in a dangerous way. “Well now you can’t leave it there,” he says lightly. “That would be unfair.”
You back up. “Unfair how??”
He leans in, whispering: “If you’re gonna tease me… do it properly.” A beat. “…Harder.”
You bury your face in your hands. He laughs, delighted. “Oh my god, look at you — I broke you.”
Then he pats your head gently. “Relax. I’ll behave.” Pause. “…Unless you start it again.”
ROMANCE⛸️
You smack him playfully from behind, already giggling. Romance freezes. Then a soft sound escapes him. Quiet. Warm. Unintentional. He turns slowly, cheeks pink but eyes bright.
You immediately panic. “I’M SORRY— I THOUGHT—”
He laughs softly, shaking his head. “No, no,” he says gently. “I just wasn’t expecting that.”
He steps closer, smile turning slightly teasing. “If you’re going to do something so bold,” he murmurs, “you shouldn’t stop halfway.”
Your breath catches. He leans in, voice warm and low: “If you want my attention do it harder.”
You are done. Completely done. He chuckles, delighted by your flustered state, and presses a kiss to your temple. “Next time,” he adds softly, “I won’t be so gentle about my reaction.”
BABY☃️
You smack him and immediately regret it. Because the sound he lets out is something you absolutely didn't expect.
Baby freezes. You freeze. “…That was NOT—” He clears his throat aggressively. “—what I expected.”
You laugh nervously. “I thought you’d yell!”
He slowly turns to you. “Oh believe me, I’m yelling internally.”
You gulp. He crosses his arms, smirking. “You do that again,” he says, voice low, “and I’m not responsible for my reaction.”
You blink. “That sounded like a challenge.”
He leans in, eyes sharp but amused. “…Don’t test me unless you’re serious.” Then he adds quietly, flustered but bold: “…Because that was not fair... You should at least do it harder.”
Your cheeks burn. His eyes widen. “YOU LITERALLY SMACKED ME AND YOU'RE THE ONE GETTING SHY!?”
You get even more red and he gasps and says. “C'mon... Do it again... You can't just leave me after doing this...”
Can I request headcanons for Saja Boys reacting to female reader apologising to him because she left scratches on his back from their lovemaking last night please?
YOU APOLOGIZE FOR THE SCRATCH MARKS ON HIS BACK
I think it might be a tiny bit shorter than the rest, but I hope you'll still like it❤️
JINU
• The morning after, Jinu will notice but he won't say anything. When he catches sight of the red marks in the mirror, his expression stays calm, but there’s a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips
• When you shyly apologize, he turns his head to you slowly, eyes dark and unreadable. “You think I’d be upset about that?” His tone is steady, but the slight rasp gives him away
• He steps closer, letting you see them again, this time deliberately. “These are proof of how much you wanted me.” There’s no shame or regret in his voice
• He’s the type to secretly love the reminder. Every sting when he moves is like a private memory he gets to carry with him all day
• Jinu reassures you with actions more than words: brushing your cheek, tugging you into a kiss, pressing your hand to his chest. “Never apologize for wanting me that much.”
• If anything, your apology only makes him want to prove that you don’t need to hold back with him — that he wants your intensity
• Later, if you're still looking guilty, he’ll tilt your chin up, whispering: “Next time don’t hold back at all.”
ABBY
• Abby notices right away — in fact, he shows off. He stretches the morning after, flexing like usual, and then grins at the angry red scratches trailing his back. “Damn, babe, you really tried to tear me apart, huh?”
• When you nervously apologize, he bursts out laughing, pulling you into his arms. “Are you kidding? This is the best trophy I’ve ever gotten!”
• He’ll joke loudly, calling them his “battle scars,” and if anyone asks why he’s walking a little stiff, he winks knowingly at you making you blush
• Abby thrives on passion, so the fact that you lost control with him feeds his ego in the best way. He’ll tease you endlessly about how wild you were
• But beneath the teasing, he’s genuinely touched. He knows you trusted him enough to let go, and that means more than he’ll ever admit seriously
• He’ll kiss your forehead and whisper, “Don’t ever apologize for wanting me that much. I want every part of it.”
• Later, when you least expect it, he’ll pull you close and whisper against your ear, voice suddenly serious: “I’ll wear those scratches like armor. Proof you’re mine.”
MYSTERY
• Mystery doesn’t react much when he sees the marks — just a glance in the mirror, eyes darkening slightly, lips tightening. He files it away silently
• When you softly apologize, he turns toward you with that piercing gaze, holding it so long you squirm. Finally, his voice cuts through the silence: “Do you regret it?”
• When you shake your head, he pulls you against him. “Then don’t apologize.” His tone is low, but there’s an edge of vulnerability he doesn’t let show often
• For him, those scratches are more than just passion marks — they’re proof you can affect him, undo him, make him lose control too. He secretly treasures that
• He’ll trace your fingers along his back deliberately, pressing them over the rawest lines, as if daring you to look at what you’ve done. “This is yours. Every part of me is.”
• Mystery isn’t one for open reassurance, but the way he holds you, the way his lips linger on your skin, shows more than words ever could
• In private, when he catches the sting of the marks while dressing, he smirks faintly to himself — remembering your voice, your nails, your need for him. And he thinks: let it scar, let it last
ROMANCE
• When he first notices the scratches, Romance touches them gently, almost reverently, like they’re sacred. His lips part, eyes clouded with emotion
• Your apology makes him shake his head immediately, cupping your face. “No, beloved… don’t tarnish what was beautiful with regret.” His voice trembles with sincerity
• To him, the marks are not just passion — they’re proof of how deeply you felt for him in that moment. He sees them as symbols of love, surrender and intensity
• He’ll kiss your palms and whisper, “These hands left their mark on me. I will carry them with pride.” He means it — there’s no embarrassment, only devotion
• When he holds you after, he murmurs reassurances: “You are allowed to want me. You don’t need to apologize for loving me.”
• Days later, if you glance at his back with guilt in your eyes, he’ll tilt his head with a soft smile. “You still don’t understand, do you? Those marks are my favorite love letters.”
BABY
• Baby yelps the next morning when he stretches, feeling the sting. “Yah! Did you try to kill me last night??” He twists in the mirror, gawking at the claw marks like he’s both horrified and impressed
• When you apologize shyly, his first instinct is to tease you mercilessly. “So you do have a wild side, huh? And here I thought I was the feral one.” He wiggles his eyebrows until you bury your face in a pillow
• He’ll pout dramatically, saying, “Guess I need protective gear next time,” but the grin never leaves his face. He secretly loves that you lost control for him
• Underneath the humor, he gets flustered. His heart pounds every time he remembers how desperately you clung to him. He doesn’t say it seriously, but it makes him feel wanted in a way that shakes him
• Eventually, when the laughter dies down, he’ll pull you close and whisper, softer than usual: “Don’t apologize. I liked it. I liked knowing you needed me like that.”
• He’ll pretend to complain every time the scratches sting, but really, each wince just reminds him of that night and he finds himself grinning like an idiot
• Later, when no one’s looking, he’ll trace the marks with his fingertips, blushing furiously as he whispers to himself: I’m hers. She wanted me. She really wanted me
if any of you has any thoughts about it, please let me know either by texting me directly or just leaving a comment or something (I'm nervous, it's my first time posting something other than my precious fluff😂😂)
Summary: Rumi wakes up alone for the first time. Honestly, she shouldn't be surprised to find Baby practically devouring Jinu for breakfast...
She woke up alone in bed, and the first thing she thought was 'strange'. These days, she rarely starts the day alone. There were always another two, or at least one, warm bodies besides her. The bed was cold and it felt too lonely...
Well, she guessed that's what Baby complains about when Jinu and her get up early. They were early birds while Baby was more of a night owl, it just happens that way.
It made sense for Jinu to wake up before her, there were few things that stopped him from following his routine. Baby though? That is a first. For her own account, she could just say that she probably should have listened to Jinu about not playing shots against Baby. She might have better alcohol tolerance than most humans, but demons also had their limitations and she had realized too late that Baby wasn't just immune to spice...
Rumi finally got off the bed, feeling a headache incoming. She stretched, then put on a shirt —Jinu's? Baby's? Either way it was too big for her. She pulled up her long hair in a messy ponytail, not having the patience for her regular braid. She made the bed, washed her face and brushed her teeth before leaving to look for her two idiots.
When she got close to the kitchen's entrance though, she froze. She heard wet sounds coming from there... Kissing? That sounded like a full make out session with the occasional chuckle and quiet moans. It's not like she has never seen them fooling around with each other before, but something about them doing that while she woke up... alone, it just rubbed her the wrong way.
She approached the source of the sounds quietly this time. The first thing she saw was Baby's back facing her. Rumi walked around them, so she could see the full show displayed in front of her. Jinu, handsome as ever, sat on top of the counter, loose pyjama pants on and shirtless. On the other hand, Baby was standing between Jinu's legs, almost completely pressed against him, and he was also wearing loose pyjama pants but with a short sleeved t-shirt —as Jinu wouldn't let him wear loose tops outside because of his idol image, which will be affected by him being more fit than fans believe him to be, Baby often took the chance to wear fitted tops or going shirtless inside.
Before Rumi could say anything, she got just in time to see Jinu dipping a strawberry in a bowl with melted chocolate, which he then put on his mouth. He held the fruit between his teeth, mouth open, chocolate dripping down his lower lip... But Baby caught it with his tongue before it got too far and he closed his mouth against Jinu's. They both bit into the strawberry and kissed through it, Baby practically devouring Jinu in the process...
A choked whine cut through and she barely registered it as her own voice. She flushed, her face warm, when Jinu perked up and broke the kiss he was sharing with the shorter man. His yellow eyes blinked at her before turning brown again.
"Rumi", he smiled at her.
Yet all she could think about is how he refused to look at her with those eyes. Demon eyes. He looked at Baby with those often when he thought she wasn't looking. She used to think he did it when the teal haired demon pissed him off, but he looked far from angry a moment ago...
"... Hi", she mumbled and gestured at them. "What is...?"
"Oh, this?", Jinu looked down and then back at her. "Baby refused to eat breakfast properly and I thought... I could motivate him."
Said person growled.
"Shut it."
And Baby went back to lapping at the traces of chocolate and fruit juice on Jinu's lips, even nibbled on his lower lip... Looking at that, Rumi felt her mouth go dry and she couldn't look away. However, Jinu never looked away from her eyes, gaze softened.
"Do you feel better?"
"Uh", she blinked up at him. "I... Yeah, sure."
He chuckled, and she felt a little embarrassed under his gaze. She understood a beat too late what he was talking about. The hungover. She didn't even remember how she went from drunkenly kissing Jinu to laying down on the bed last night.
"Do you want anything to eat?", he asked.
"I didn't finish, she can make her own breakfast", Baby protested, not letting the black haired man move from where he was.
Jinu smirked at him and held Baby's face with both hands.
"Oh, did my sweet boy enjoy my idea?", he said, with a lower tone, almost mocking. "You were so against it though..."
A shiver ran down her spine at the pet name he used.
Baby deadpanned at him, looking irritated. He would often complain about Jinu soft talking to him too much. However, the darker flush on his cheeks revealed otherwise...
"Cute...", she giggled.
He just scoffed and hid his face against the crook of Jinu's neck. Judging by the way the older man's breath hitched, Baby probably bit him there.
"Suddenly...", Jinu sighed, then locked eyes with Rumi once again. "So? What would you want?"
She thought about it.
"Want... I want..."
She thought back on the noises she heard from the hall, on how lovely they sounded. On how they looked so lost on each other sharing strawberries, as if they lived in their own little bubble. On how Jinu was so ready to break it just to make sure she was okay, the softness in his eyes... And yet there was something in the desperation Baby showed in trying to get his attention back...
My sweet boy...
She wanted to be his too.
Theirs.
She wanted them.
"I want to try it."
Jinu's eyes darkened and he smiled at her. Baby looked up from where he was hidden, actually looking at her for the first time since she entered the room, teal eyes flashing yellow for a second. They both looked at her expectantly, as if they were carefully observing all her movements...
Hungry. They looked hungry.
It looked... familiar. From last night.
"What's wrong?", Baby had whispered, breath warm against her ear. "Why is the hunter being preyed on now?
Jinu gave Baby's arm a light tap, and the younger demon moved back to make space for her.
"Suit yourself, beloved."
**********************************************
Ok, that's it. I thought that was a good place to cut in :DD
links to fics set in the roadies alternate universe! i finally got off my butt and gathered up all the fics (for your convenience, but really for mine as well, i reread them a lot ahaha 😅)
let me know if i missed any fics or you have something to add to the list (doesn't have to be on AO3). the roadies au is very free form and the canon is very loose.
please note that many of the fics are for adult readers only, so please heed the ratings and the tags for each piece! for ease, i am linking to series pages if available.
Gender identity: agender (or, in mod @sunkern-plus ' personal opinion, he/him biogender, which is a xenogender related to any part of nature or Earth)
Why would transition save them?: "he could've been saved from like 16 years of identity issues if he knew there was a mystery 3rd option between "wolf" and "boy""--anon
"Mod addition: I know very few things about Genshin Impact, but I DO know a lot about Street Fighter. From my understanding, Razor is basically Blanka as a feminine, small-looking boy: he was raised by animals (Razor in Fantasy Germany, Blanka in Brazil, but the Brazil where you turn green if you eat too much grass and learn how to zap people with electricity if you eat eels or, if you're Laura, just fiddle around with your hair too much in an autistic way), is very autistic coded (and autism DEFINITELY affects how you perceive your gender; I would know, I have it) and has trouble adapting to human society because of a deep-seated belief that he is unable to be like other people. If Razor realized he was agender, or perhaps biogender (a gender related to nature and the Earth, though I'm not sure if Genshin Impact has a traditional Earth) in the "no gender only nature" way, he'd find a place where he fits in the world and feels more confident. Please know I've only read a little bit of the Lore on Razor mainly for BennetRazor fanfic to make sense. Also BennetRazor would become nlm or nln or even nlnm (nonbinary x nonbinary man) and nonbinary ships are always needed."--mod @sunkern-plus
