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I NEED MORE TAXI DRIVER FIC YALL PLS 🙏😓

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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ꨄ︎ OVERSTIMULATION! content warnings: brief nipple play (chigiri), handjob (bachira), riding (vast majority). gender neutral reader!
ISAGI YOICHI!
He tried – really fucking tried, but after the third time of cumming, he was fucked. Pants, whines, and moans all leave his lips at once, and your hips aren't stopping.
He shudders and sobs, jittery hands trying to stop your hips from going any further, but all the words leaving his lips say otherwise.
It's as if his body is telling him one thing, that he physically can't take any more before he explodes, but his brain is telling him another, saying that he needs it – craves it. He can't choose a side. He's stuck on the bridge between heaven and hell – purgatory, maybe? Doesn't matter. He can't even think straight enough to decide whether this is torture or not.
"Shit–... baby! Can't– fuck... I can't– more–... I don't even know what I'm saying anymore!"
MEGURU BACHIRA!
After the fifth climax, he's a mess. He pretended that after the third orgasm, it didn't burn – that it still felt good, which it did, but he couldn't ignore the pain that accompanied the orgasms following the first one.
He's crying – full on sobbing, but he's also laughing – somewhat? You think it's a laugh. You can't determine if it is or not. It's choked and raw like he's confused about how to feel.
His hips buck upwards, right into your cum-soaked hand. He's trying to chase another orgasm, regardless of how painful it is. He wants it – needs it. He doesn't care how stupid he looks right now, trying his best to fuck your fist to get what he wants.
"Baby– hahah– shit! Please— need it. It hurts so good– please! Let me cum!"
HYOMA CHIGIRI!
Embarrassingly so for him, he's ruined after the second orgasm.
He's always so confident he can take it, but when he's face-to-face with the overstimulation itself, it screws him over within seconds. Tears streaming down his face, hair scattered all over the pillow, hands braced up on your waist.
He seems a mess, and yeah, he's quick and all, but the pace you're pushing him at? Harsh – almost cruel. What's even harsher is when your hand moved up his waist to flick his nipple. Are you really trying to tear him apart?
"Shitshitshit! You're 'n asshole! Can't even think straight– fuck– cumming!"
REO MIKAGE!
Surprisingly, held himself till the fourth orgasm.
The first and second orgasm? Pure bliss. Third or fourth? Amazing, but far too overwhelming.
After the fourth one, the subtle buzzing of the vibrator you're pressing down onto his cock causes his head to spin, in a good and a bad way. Cum and pre-cum soaked the sheets below, some of it splattered his pelvis and thighs. He's a mess, hiccuping uncontrollably and flat-out sobbing.
His hand rushes to clutch at your wrist, trying to pull your hand away, or closer? He doesn't know either, and you take it upon yourself to make the decision for him, turning up the intensity of the vibrator. He practically screams when you do.
"Baby– I can't! Wait– nononono! Don't turn it– oh! Oh, fuuuuck–"
NAGI SEISHIRO!
Two orgasms and, poor thing, he's already met his limit. He was finished from the start when he agreed to let you ride him while he played around with his phone.
Now, his phone is long forgotten on the bed, his arm drapped across his face, little whimpers and broken moans leave his lips as you bounce up and down his cock.
He doesn't even know what to do with himself anymore. He's just lying there and taking it. He doesn't fight back – nothing. Just biting his lip hard enough to break skin and using his other hand to grip the sheets, grabbing a good chunk of it to twist and pull at while you ride him with increasing speed.
You're completely ruining him, making him go from nonchalant to chalant real fast. He literally cannot stop begging.
"Nghhh– slow down! Going too fast– can't keep up. Fuck– cumming again!"
RIN ITOSHI!
He was so sure he could take it. He promised you he could. He even placed money on the line for it.
Yeah, he's losing that money, though, because after the third orgasm, he's done for. He couldn't even pretend that the pleasure isn't insufferable and that's not tearing him apart, inside and out.
He's chewed the skin on his bottom lip so much that it's torn and left it bruised and bleeding. His eyes are glassy, hands flexing – nails digging into his palm, teeth digging into his tongue to try his hardest to suppress his ruined, little mewls, but there isn't even a point in trying because the muffled noises only make him sound more pathetic.
The more you move your hips, the more he's turning limp. He's seconds away from passing out at this point. Shit, even picturing the amount of orgasms to come has him feeling more lightheaded.
"So fucking evil– like a damn demon– can't stop for shit, huh? Slow down or you're gonna make me– haaah!"
kaiser started crying as he was fucking you content | nsfw, fem!reader, bf!kaiser, p in v, missionary
“fuck,” he groaned, his hips tightly meeting yours as he thrusted his aching dick into you once more.
his grip lay firm on your legs that were wrapped around his body. with every thrust inside your squelching arousal, your body made another stimulating shudder.
“micha—” you whine, your words lolling out of you.
“s’tight,” he panted, his hands squeezing the flesh of your legs. “s’tight.”
he leaned down, rubbing his wet and trembling lips along the skin of your neck before he began giving you suckling kisses. his teeth grazed your flesh as his tongue swirled his drooling saliva right onto you.
“s’tight,” he repeated, his voice a weak muffle against your body.
“micha . . . you’re so big,” you moan.
you can feel the tip of him twitching as he continued to pump in and out of you. his lips were practically scrambling along your skin, nipping, sucking, kissing.
“yeah?” he heaved, his breath fanning your kiss-soaked body.
“mmmm,” you rumble, your eyes stamped shut.
his pace was relentless. he kept burying his cock inside of you, making you feel the full extent of his size. god, your body was tensing and contracting with every pistoning thrust he made. you could feel the erratic pulsing of his thickness beat against the walls of your gushing pussy, making you nest your head back more into the pillow.
sniffle, sniffle, sniffle . . .
hn? your foggy, lust-clouded mind short circuited as you could feel the quivering of his lips and the sound of his sniffling accompany the room.
his rhythm faltered slightly. his hips rolled deliberately, savouringly. with each contact made between your bodies, a new electric jolt manifested inside of you.
“m. . . micha?” you squeak, your throat barely open to form words from his staggering pace.
he didn’t say anything. he kept his face buried into the crook of your neck, keeping all his attention on just how fucking good you feel.
“micha,” you say, your tone a groaning whine.
“shhh,” he muffled, his lips once again latching onto your flesh.
one of your hands snaked its way to the back of kaiser’s head. you played with the scruffiness of his hair. causing another frantic cluster of sniffles.
“fuckkk,” he whimpered. “ya s’good. feel s’good. fuck. fuck.”
he pulled back slightly. his pale skin was now a warmth-induced flush, with sweat beading along his features.
and his eyes. were full of tears.
his dick ached relentlessly as he quickened his pace back to a frantic speed, causing the breath in your lungs to dissipate completely.
“m—micha! you’re . . . crying,” you manage to choke out.
his head dropped, his arms were shuddering. he could barely keep his weight above you as he was basically squirming in and out of your wet cunt.
your hands rushed to cup his face, tilting his head gently back up to meet your gaze. his flushed features looked . . . so beautiful. his eyes, glistening with tears, almost made you . . .
squelch!
“ack!” you squeak, feeling his cock frazzledly push inside of you again.
“it feels so good,” he whined hoarsely. his words died down to mind-numbed praise.
he groaned, a deep and raw guttural sound. he closed his eyes, tears begin to path their way down his pink cheeks.
his voice was nothing but a mouse-quiet sniffle. “your pussy’s s’nice. ‘m gonna . . . fuck . . .”
his upper body dropped back down against you as he chased his release. with every drive into you, you could feel the beating pulse of his length intensifying. your thighs squeezed together along his body, trapping him completely. causing another desperate muffled moan to sound from his throat.
his one hand weakly pressed against your lower abdomen, making the feeling of his throbbing heat completely isolated — completely un-ignorable.
“cum . . . c’mon . . .” he muttered quietly through clenched teeth.
“micha— i’m!” your lips pursed together as your body went slack. all you could feel was the aching contractions your walls made against his gushing cock.
“mmmf. . .” he mumbled a whine, another tear trekking his face as his cock spilled into you.
you could feel the shooting of his cock filling you up, plugging you entirely. fuck. he could stuff you all he wants. but . . . why was he crying?
for a few beats, the two of you stilled, catching your breath.
then, you broke the silence. “micha?”
he pulled out of you, his body still buzzing with post-coital shivers. “. . . yes?”
you shifted yourself upwards just slightly, searching his face that was completely downcast.
“you were crying. why?”
his shoulders tensed slightly. he finally looked up at you, his eyes narrowed and slightly red-rimmed from both crying and cumming inside of you
he scoffed, running a hand through his hair as he grabbed his boxers from the floor.
his voice was a quiet, small mutter when he finally spoke. “ya just . . . feel really good.”
(ᐡ⦁⩊⦁⸝⸝ᐡ )₊୭
SYNOPSIS. he pisses you off so what do you do? pretend to drown yourself of course!
PAIRINGS. unimpressed! itoshi rin x crazy!reader (established relationship)
WARNINGS. unhinged characters, crack, jealousy, dark humor
the beach is quiet except for the tide rolling in and your shoes dragging lazy lines through the sand beside itoshi rin’s footprints.
rin walks with his hands shoved into his hoodie pockets, expression blank as ever. the wind pushes his dark hair into his eyes, and he barely reacts when you hook your pinky with his.
then some girl jogs up beside him.
“wait— aren’t you itoshi rin?”
you instantly stop walking.
rin does too, already looking irritated. “yeah.”
she laughs nervously, way too close to him for your liking. “i watched your last match. you were amazing.”
“mhm.”
“and you’re even taller in person—”
you stare at the side of his face.
rin notices immediately. of course he does.
his eyes flick toward you for one second, already exhausted.
“she’s glaring at me,” the girl says awkwardly.
“don’t worry about it,” rin replies flatly. “they do that.”
excuse you?
you spin around and start marching toward the water.
rin sighs behind you. “here we go.”
the girl blinks. “uh…”
“they’ll survive.”
you hear her excuse herself quickly after that, leaving the two of you alone again except for the ocean wind and your building irritation.
rin catches up easily, matching your pace. “what’s your problem?”
“you let her flirt with you.”
“i answered three questions.”
“you enjoyed it.”
“i’d rather drown.”
you stop ankle-deep in the freezing water and narrow your eyes at him. “maybe i should.”
rin deadpans immediately, “don’t start.”
but you’re already wading deeper.
the water climbs past your knees, then your thighs. rin stays on shore for exactly five seconds before muttering, “for fuck’s sake,” and following after you.
you hear the splash of him approaching while dramatically stumbling farther out.
“rin—” you gasp theatrically, throwing your arms around. “the current—”
“there is no current.”
“i’m being swept away—”
“you’re standing.”
you decide to commit to the bit anyway and throw yourself backward into the water with an exaggerated splash.
rin grabs your arm instantly and hauls you upright with frightening ease. “can you not fake drown for attention for one day?”
instead of answering, you splash a huge wave of water directly into his face.
rin stands there dripping seawater, blinking slowly.
you burst into laughter.
his expression doesn’t change at all. somehow that makes it worse. “you’re annoying,” he says finally.
“you came after me though.”
“you would’ve actually drowned out of spite.”
“awww, you know me so well!”
rin stares at you for a long moment before dragging you closer by the wrist.
“you’re lucky i’m used to your psychotic episodes.”
but he still pulls you against his chest afterward, holding you there while the waves crash around your legs like he never planned to let go in the first place.
sae ver shidou ver
A/N. crashing out lowkey. anyways i also made a kaiser version next
175,000 WON • N. RIKI
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( 니시무라 리키 ) In which - You attend a college party and bump into your ex-best friend's ex-boyfriend, Nishimura Riki... This is going to be interesting.
~2.0K
Warnings / Tags: fluff, fake dating, Jealousy, drinking/alcohol,
now playing ‧₊˚♪ : The Walls by Chase Atlantic
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I’m not sure whose mansion this is, but it’s obscenely huge. Some rich kid from our college; probably one of those business majors whose dad owns half of Seoul. I don’t really care who. I’m here for the free alcohol and a good time with Alyssa.
She’s already five drinks in, dancing near the massive marble staircase with some guy from the soccer team, and I’m on my way back from the makeshift bar they’ve set up in the foyer.
The place is packed. Bodies everywhere, music thumping so loud I feel it in my chest. I’ve got my Malibu-fruitpunch in one hand and my phone in the other, trying to navigate through the crowd without spilling anything. That’s when it happens.
Someone barrels into me. Hard. Like a freight train without brakes.
The glass flies out of my hand, and I feel the cold liquid splash across the front of my top; my favorite one, the one I saved up for weeks to buy! I look down, and the pink stain is already spreading, soaking into the fabric. My first thought is fuck, my second is who the hell.
“Dude, what the fuck this is 100% cotton, not some cheap—” I start, my eyes fixed on the damage, trying to assess if it’s salvageable. The idiot who crashed into me is still moving, looking around like he’s searching for someone.
“Hey, you’re Choi Aria, right?”
A male voice. Deep. Familiar in a way that makes my stomach flip. I force my gaze up from the mess on my chest and try to focus on his face, but he keeps turning his head, scanning the room, his body language restless and impatient. He’s tall; obnoxiously tall. It takes me a second to process.
How does he know my name?
“How do you know my name?!” I snap, my voice cutting through the noise. I’m angry, frustrated, and still trying to figure out if the stain is going to set.
He finally turns to look at me directly, and I freeze.
That face. Those sharp jawlines, the piercing eyes, the smirk that’s practically famous around campus. That’s Nishimura Riki. Star player of the ice hockey team. The guy every girl whispers about in the library. The one who’s always surrounded by a crowd at parties like this.
WTF, I mouth under my breath.
“You’re so gonna pay for my dry cleaning—” I try again, my voice coming out shakier than I want.
He cuts me off. Again.
“You were friends with Kim Ji-woo, but you two got into a big fight right?”
His tone is casual, almost bored, like he’s asking about the weather. But the name hits me like a slap.
Ji-woo. My ex-best friend. The one who ghosted me after our fight over a guy, the one who never apologized, the one I’ve avoided like the plague since freshman year.
“Um—well—yeah, we were? But I don’t know why that would be relevant right now?! What I do know is that you’re gonna pay—” I try to finish my sentence, but he cuts me off again, and I feel my irritation spike.
“I’ll pay you 175,000 won!” he says, flatly, like it’s a price tag on a cheap item.
I blink. Twice. “Wait, what?! That was easy?”
“Listen. Ji-woo broke up with me last week, and now she’s all ready dating Lee Chae-won. I saw her just now, and I want to make her jealous. You’re her ex-best friend; it’s perfect.”
His eyes are wide, earnest, and there’s a desperate edge to his voice that I don’t trust. The whole thing sounds insane.
“Wha—you’re paying me 175,000 won for a peck on the lips?” I manage, my brain still trying to catch up.
“Not a peck, she won’t believe that! You know… like a little makeout session. Really sell it. Fuck, she’s coming!”
He looks over my shoulder, and I turn instinctively. There she is. Ji-woo, walking through the doorway, her arm linked with Haerin. The same smug expression she used to wear when we were still friends.
I spin back to face Riki. “MAKE OUT?! That’s not worth 175,000 won, Nishimura!”I said walking away.
“Fuck, Choi, that’s easy money!” he hisses, grabbing my arm and pulling me closer.
“Listen, I don’t really know you, plus you’re apparently my ex-best friend’s ex-boyfriend, that’s—”
“350,000!” he yells, his eyes still locked on the entrance.
I turn again. Ji-woo is walking further into the room. She hasn’t seen us yet. My heart is pounding so loud I can barely hear the music. The alcohol in my system is making me dizzy. And then I think about the money. 350,000 won for a kiss. A kiss that would wipe that smirk off Ji-woo’s face. Fuck.
I don’t even hesitate anymore. I grab Riki’s face with both hands and pull him into me.
He’s stiff for half a second; surprised, I guess and then something shifts. His hands find the back of my head, fingers threading through my hair, and he yanks me closer, his mouth opening against mine. This isn’t a peck. This is hunger. This is a lip lock that steals my breath.
He pushes me back against the wall, and the impact knocks the air out of me. I let out a small moan, shock more than anything. His body is pressing against mine, solid and warm, and his tongue traces the bottom of my lips. I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m just reacting, kissing back, letting him lead.
“Riki?” a voice cuts through the haze.
We break apart. Slowly. Riki’s hand is still in my hair, and my chest is heaving. We both look to the side.
Ji-woo is standing there, mouth slightly open, eyes wide. Haerin is beside her, looking confused.
“ARIA?!” Ji-woo’s voice is sharp, accusatory.
I swallow. My lips are tingling. My heart is racing. “Oh hey,” Riki says, casual as if we weren’t just making out against the wall. “Hi,” I say dryly, meeting Ji-woo’s gaze.
“How are you doing? Didn’t even know you were here tonight,” Riki adds, his tone too calm. This fucking liar. He knew exactly what he was doing.
“What the hell are you two doing?” Ji-woo demands, completely ignoring his question. I can see it in her eyes; the jealousy, the confusion, the anger. It’s beautiful. I want to rub it in more.
Riki starts to speak. “I’m—” I cut him off. I don’t know where the words come from, but they spill out. “I’m his girlfriend. So if you don’t mind, we’re gonna leave.”
I turn to Riki, grabbing his arm. “I’m really craving you, baby,” I say, my voice low and breathless.
He looks startled for a second, then recovers, letting me drag him away. We weave through the crowd, up the marble staircase, and into the first empty room I find. I close the door behind us and lean against it, catching my breath.
“Gosh, you really saved me back there—” Riki starts.
I hold up a hand. I’m still panting, still shaking, but I have a point to make.
“That will be 400,000 won.”
His eyes go wide. “Wait, WHAT?!”
———
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Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
WEE LAMB
bestfriend!sunghoon x clueless!female reader content(s): down bad sunghoon, he asks reader to sit on him, fluff, suggestive innuendos, possessive mannerisms, he's obsessed with reader type: smau! (texts)
reader's a little clueless on how her texts affect sunghoon
Couple Vlogs — NRKˎˊ˗
‘’I’m sorry for annoying you :(‘’
.☘︎ ݁˖ ──────── Nishimura Riki x fem!Reader ♪‧₊˚
COUPLE VLOG #2: after kiyoe’s fake hickey prank, riki decides to get revenge by attempting the “ignoring my girlfriend for 24 hours” challenge. armed with hidden cameras and far too much confidence, he’s determined to see it through…unaware that his little prank might hurt more than he expected. Now are you #teamKiyoe or #teamRiki.
Your online name is Kiyoe!
Taglist is open!
Vlogs Playlist Click here for my Archives
“Um, hello. This is Ni-ki—Riki, or whatever. Ki. Okay, okay, I’m joking,” he whispered into the camera, trying not to laugh already. “Anyways, in the last video, Kiyoe pranked me with a fake hickey, and I saw a lot of comments saying I should get revenge. So after searching through way too many prank ideas, I decided to do the ‘Ignoring My Girlfriend Challenge.’”
STRICTLY "BUSINESS" — Y.JW
ʚɞ pairing : nerd!jungwon x f!reader (feat. sunghoon of enhypen, yunah, minju, and wonhee of illit, wonbin of riize)
ʚɞ synopsis : in which yn needs the ultimate distraction to get her toxic ex off her back, and the school's cold academic club president is the prefect candidate for a fake relationship. the terms are strictly business, and the rules are clear. but when things get too real, neither of them know how to continue acting.
ʚɞ genre : fake dating, fluff, highschool!au (not proofread im so sorry)
ʚɞ wc : 14.3k
ʚɞ author's note : finally the long awaited nerd!won ficcccc. im so sry for taking long with this one. i had dozens of ideas for this specific pairing and i ended up switching like three times before finally settling on this one. i apologize if this seems rushed or like fast paced... ALSOO no hate for wonbin, he might be the culprit here but i have nothing against him at all. hope u all enjoy ♡
the words "i just really need to focus on myself right now, yn" were still ringing in your ears.
it had been exactly a week since wonbin sat you down by the school bleachers, looking terribly conflicted, and told you that he just didn't have the emotional bandwidth for a relationship. he claimed his classes were getting heavy, that he was tired of the constant emotional upkeep of dating, and that he needed to find himself.
♡ Desperate to avoid an arranged marriage with Naoya, you seek refuge in Yuuta—unaware that he may be the most dangerous curse of all, especially when he’s been secretly and hopelessly in love with you all along.♡
ft. Yuuta x reader, Naoya x reader, Sexual Content. Dark Romance. Arranged marriage.
Naoya x Reader x Yuuta (Part 5)
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Warning tag: Arranged Marriage AU!, Possessive! Naoya, Love-Drunk! Yuuta, Hurt/Comfort, Dark Romance, Explicit Sexual content, Lots of Smut, Love Triangles, Unrequited Lust, Sexual Tension, Reader-Insert, Slow Burn, Obsessive Behavior, Yuuta is a love-struck sweetheart, Jealousy, horny sorcerers, Possessive Behavior, Pining, Possessive sex, Breeding, Pregnancy Kink, Cock Warming, Enemies with Benefits, Porn with Feelings, Zenin Clan Drama, Manipulation, Naoya Zenin is his Own Warning, Uncontrollable thirst for Reader, Manipulation, Thigh Riding, Cock Riding, Fucking, cock-drunk, gaslighting, HEAVY plot.
-
While everyone was still processing the fact that Yuta had essentially just declared both a political and romantic war against the Zenin Clan, you found yourself strangely grateful for the steady blood loss leaving your body. It was probably the only thing keeping your face from bursting into flames after the catastrophic mess that had just unfolded.
“...G-Girlfriend?” Yuji repeated, his jaw practically hanging off his face.
“Excuse me?” Nobara's voice had never sounded so shrill. “Since when you have a boyfriend, and why is it Okkotsu?”
Clearly, discussing your love life was far more important than addressing your rapidly deteriorating condition.
“We can discuss the drama when we’re not covered in cursed entrails,” Megumi said, rolling his eyes slightly.
Before he could step away, however, Gojo abruptly threw an arm around his shoulders and dragged him into a one-sided, deeply unwanted side hug.
“I, for one, thought it was a very sweet confession,” the teacher announced with a grin so wide it bordered on deranged.
Megumi deadpanned. He didn't even need the Six Eyes to figure this one out.
“...You did this, didn’t you?”
His voice was low enough that only Gojo could hear him. Not that anyone else was paying attention.
At that very moment, Nobara and Yuji had cornered the unfortunate Okkotsu, who looked seconds away from evaporating on the spot, while his allegedly dying girlfriend seemed to be moving less and less inside his possessive grip.
Gojo’s grin sharpened.
“Megumi-kun, you’re always so suspicious,” he said lightly. “Relax a little and enjoy the show.”
“This isn’t a game.”
Megumi shrugged him off immediately, blue eyes narrowing.
For a brief second, something unreadable flickered across Gojo’s face. His hands settled on his hips, shoulders loosening as he looked toward the new couple.
The smile returned. Different this time. Sharper.
“Either way, we should get moving,” Gojo said, casting Megumi one last unreadable glance before turning toward Yuta and reaching for your wrist to check your pulse. “Before (Y/N) runs out of blood.”
That managed to kill the argument almost instantly. Yuji and Nobara exchanged a look, suddenly remembering that you were, in fact, injured.
Megumi straightened and started walking.
“I agree,” Yuta said immediately.
His brows knit together as his grip around you tightened ever so slightly.
“Let's get Miss Shoko to look at her as soon as possible.”
Without waiting for a response, Okkotsu fell into step behind Megumi, ignoring everyone else entirely.
Even though he could still hear the murmurs behind him—or rather, the shameless gossiping of his classmates and teacher—Yuta couldn't make out a single word.
He was too consumed by what he'd just done. By what he'd just said. The certainty in his voice had surprised even him. Conviction wasn't something he wore often. Not like that. Not so openly. Not in front of everyone.
Only now was the full weight of it beginning to settle over him.
A faint blush crept across his cheeks. Yet aside from that, nothing changed in his expression. At least, not to anyone else.
From the safety of his arms, however, you were watching him closely.
“Y-Yuta…”
Your voice came out weak, barely above a whisper. His attention snapped back to you immediately.
He tilted his head ever so slightly before adjusting you more securely against his chest. His shoulders stiffened when your head settled deeper into the hollow of his collarbone.
“Did...” you started. The question lingered between you and then you took a slow breath.
“Did you mean that?”
Yuta lowered his gaze until dark eyes met yours. And despite your condition—despite the blood loss, despite the exhaustion—you swore your heart somehow found the strength to beat faster.
For a long moment, he simply stared at you, quiet and steady. Then, almost imperceptibly, he worried his lower lip between his teeth.
"I've been uncertain about a lot of things lately.”
Your heart skipped a beat.
“…Not that."
He said it so simply that, for a moment, you almost missed the weight of it.
There was no embarrassment in his voice, no attempt to laugh it off or soften what had happened. If anything, he sounded mildly concerned that you would even think he might be joking.
His gaze drifted briefly to your lips before returning to your face.
You couldn't look away, and speaking didn't seem to be an option either. His grip just shifted ever so slightly, adjusting you higher against his solid chest, and the movement felt absentminded enough to be honest. Protective in the way breathing was protective. Something he wasn't consciously choosing anymore.
The silence should have reassured you.
Instead, your pulse stumbled. Because nowhere in it was there regret. Not once did he say he wished he hadn't done it. Not once did he try to undo the confession— the realization settled heavily in your mind.
Yuta noticed the look on your face and immediately mistook it for concern.
“You don't have to decide anything right now,” he said softly. “I'm not asking you to.”
His eyes held yours for a second too long. As though saying it aloud had finally quieted something inside him.
“But if you're asking whether I meant it...”
A quiet grin ghosted his lips then, small and almost self-conscious.
“I did.”
-
Something in the world's gravity seemed to shift after that. You couldn't tell whether you felt lighter or heavier.
Had that been a confession? Or maybe the blood loss was finally getting to you. Maybe you were simply delirious, teetering somewhere between emotional exhaustion and mental collapse, struggling to separate reality from wishful thinking.
There were too many variables.
Yuta had appeared only hours apart after your conversation with Gojo-sensei, at precisely the right time and with precisely the right words. Words that had been prepared months ago.
Planned. Rehearsed. A carefully constructed script designed by you and Gojo to throw Naoya Zenin off your trail. Nothing about it had been left to chance, and yet somehow...
None of it had felt rehearsed.
Yuta had confirmed the sincerity of what he'd said, but how were you supposed to believe him completely when Gojo could have easily instructed him to stay in character? You never knew who might be listening. Maybe Yuta was simply following orders. He'd always been good at following them.
The thought did little to settle the restless feeling in your chest. You sighed.
Shoko's gaze flickered up from your arm. "Am I hurting you?"
The question pulled you from your thoughts. You shook your head weakly.
"Tell me if I am."
You nodded, eyes dropping once more to your lap.
Across the infirmary, Gojo observed the exchange from his place against the wall, arms folded loosely across his chest and one ankle crossed over the other. His head was tilted just enough to suggest curiosity, and his blindfold made staring socially acceptable, giving him the shameless freedom to stare wherever he pleased.
At the moment, that happened to be you and Yuta. Mostly Yuta.
Yuta, who refused to leave your side.
It was an unusual sight, even by Gojo's standards.
Yuta hadn't greeted anyone when he'd arrived. He hadn't exchanged a single word with his classmates despite not seeing most of them for over a year. He had walked into the infirmary carrying you, settled you carefully onto the examination table, and remained there ever since, hovering at your side with a quiet attentiveness that bordered on possessive.
Like a guard dog that had chosen its post and refused to abandon it.
Every now and then he handed Shoko folded bandages, ointments, or supplies before she even asked for them.
The physician accepted them with increasing confusion. Her gaze occasionally drifted toward the clock, then toward her oldest friend. Questions flickered in her eyes. Gojo merely shrugged.
Eventually, Shoko resigned herself to the fact that she apparently had an assistant now.
"Syringe."
Yuta placed it carefully in her hand.
Gojo nearly laughed.
"This will sting," Shoko warned. "It's an oil-based injection. More painful, but considerably more effective."
You barely had time to nod when the needle was already piercing your arm. Pain bloomed instantly. Sharp and deep. Your hand clenched into a fist on reflex, nails biting into your palm, then something interrupted the motion.
Long fingers slipped between your own. One by one. Careful. Deliberate. Until your small hand was entirely enclosed within Yuta's.
Shoko raised an eyebrow. Gojo suddenly found the ceiling fascinating. You probably would have looked away too if you weren't so busy trying not to short-circuit.
Because this was the plan, wasn't it?
Yuta would pretend to be your boyfriend. Pretend. The word kept sounding stranger every time it crossed your mind.
You tried to pull your hand back. Yuta's grip tightened instinctively. Not enough to trap you. Just enough to stop you from slipping away.
"We're almost done," he said quietly, as though assisting Shoko was something he'd been doing for years. "Just a little longer."
His thumb began tracing slow circles over the back of your hand. You gulped and without meaning to, your eyes lifted to his face. You expected embarrassment. Awkwardness. Maybe the shy avoidance that had always been so characteristically Yuta.
Instead, you found him already looking at you. The corners of his mouth curving slightly when he noticed your eyelids growing heavy.
"If you're tired," he murmured, "you can sleep."
His fingers shifted gently around yours.
"I'm not going anywhere."
Your palms were definitely sweating now.
God. You hoped he couldn't tell.
Shoko cleared her throat. The needle slid free and she turned toward the counter behind her.
"I added a sedative to help you rest," she explained. "The sooner you fall asleep, the sooner the treatment will start working."
"Thank you."
Yuta answered before you could.
The brunette glanced over her shoulder and amusement flickered briefly across her face.
"Satoru."
Gojo straightened.
"With me."
The tall sorcerer pushed himself off the wall and followed her toward the door. As he passed, he squeezed Yuta's shoulder with all the subtlety of a man carrying nuclear launch codes.
Yuta ignored him. Gojo's grin widened as the door closed behind them. Leaving the room far quieter than before.
-
The low hum of the vending machines had always been strangely comforting to Yuta. It reminded him of late afternoons at Jujutsu High, of his friends waiting nearby with drinks in hand, of easy conversations and familiar laughter. More than anything, it reminded him that he finally belonged somewhere.
That he was useful.
Useful.
The word lingered in his thoughts longer than it should have. He wanted to be useful. More specifically...
He wanted to be useful to you.
He already knew one way he could help. He could play the part of your boyfriend for as long as you needed him to. If pretending to love you meant keeping you safe, then he'd do it without hesitation.
...And if, eventually, the lie had to grow bigger...
If your "boyfriend" had to become your husband. If the two of you had to build a life convincing enough to fool the Zenin Clan. If someday there had to be children.
Well...
He supposed he could help with that too.
His heartbeat quickened. Each ridiculous possibility somehow felt more believable than the last, and before he realized it, he had begun imagining details he had absolutely no business imagining. Was it unusually warm today...?
The icy aluminum of a soda can pressed against the side of his neck ripped him clean out of his thoughts.
"S-Sensei!"
"I figured I'd stop your brain from catching fire," Gojo said casually, lifting the can like it was an emergency medical device.
Yuta's ears immediately burned.
"...Though," Gojo added with a grin, pulling the can back, "I'd hate to drink warm soda."
He cracked it open with one hand and took an exaggerated sip. Yuta looked away.
"I wasn't expecting to find you out here," Gojo remarked. "Didn't you—"
"Shoko-san asked me to step outside for a minute," Yuta answered a little too quickly. "She... wanted to check some of her injuries under... under..."
"...Her clothes?"
Gojo supplied, amusement tugging at the corner of his mouth. Yuta nodded and finally remembered the unopened soda in his own hand.
He took a sip. It had gone warm.
"So..." Gojo said, unable to hide the grin stretching across his face.
"'My girlfriend.'"
Yuta nearly inhaled his drink.
"...Bold."
"I panicked."
Gojo laughed.
"Liar."
The word came effortlessly.
"You've wanted to say that for years."
Silence settled between them. Gojo watched him beneath his blindfold, Six Eyes reading every minute change in expression.
Yuta didn't argue.
He only stared quietly at the can in his hands, his grip gradually loosening until his fingers rested against the aluminum almost absentmindedly. Then, without realizing his own strength...
Crush.
The can collapsed inside his hand with a metallic crunch.
He blinked.
"...Right."
Calmly, he tossed it into the nearby recycling bin.
"I should head back." A small smile appeared on his face. "I don't want her waking up alone."
Gojo's own smile turned unmistakably mischievous.
"You are playing the boyfriend part very well...” his fingertips tapped on the can, and then he straightened his back. “It’s my duty to let you know that things are about to become VERY complicated."
Yuta paused.
"The Zenin Clan is awful," Gojo continued, taking another drink. "But Naoya Zenin..."
He sighed dramatically.
"...is the king of awful."
For a brief moment, his usual grin softened. Something about that mission refused to sit right with him. Too many coincidences. Too many things had unfolded with unsettling precision, each piece falling perfectly into place until the entire operation had become a disaster waiting to happen. It felt... Engineered.
Gojo didn't voice the suspicion aloud. Not yet. He had no proof. Only instinct. But if someone had orchestrated the whole thing... Only one blond Zenin was arrogant enough to throw his own future wife into danger if it meant walking away with the advantage.
His smile returned just as easily as it had disappeared. Another beat passed.
"So."
Gojo tilted his head.
"Last chance…. want me to send you back to Africa?"
Yuta looked at him for a long moment. Then, unexpectedly...
He smiled. There was something quietly resolute about it, sharper than the smiles he usually wore.
"Can I take my girlfriend with me?"
Gojo burst into laughter.
"There he is."
He pointed lazily toward the silver ring hanging from the chain around Yuta's neck.
"You can... the day you decide that ring belongs on her finger instead."
Yuta's fingers instinctively found the ring resting against his chest. He rubbed his thumb across the familiar metal before lowering his gaze.
"...I'm not the one who gets to decide that, Sensei."
-
Back at the Zenin estate, what had begun as a contained storm had settled into something far more dangerous.
Silence.
Naoya sat perfectly still. Far too still for a man who had shattered a thousand-year-old porcelain set less than ten minutes earlier. His father noticed.
"Trouble in paradise?"
Naobito lowered himself onto the tatami by the open window with the ease of a man who owned everything within sight. A servant appeared almost immediately, as though summoned from the air itself, placing a steaming cup of tea into his waiting hand before disappearing just as quietly.
He took a leisurely sip. Immediately hissed.
"I'm not sure what's hotter," he mused with a grin, eyeing the cup before glancing toward his son. "The tea... or you."
Naoya answered with nothing more than a quiet exhale through his nose.
"Nothing worth discussing."
His eyes never left the garden beyond the window.
"I heard quite the commotion earlier." Naobito chuckled. "I assumed—"
"You assumed wrong."
The interruption came flat. Cold. Absolute. Naobito turned his head just enough to study him.
"More than one woman has found her way into my bed," he said without the slightest trace of shame. "I'm struggling to understand why you're making such a spectacle over this one."
Only then did Naoya look at him. His expression remained calm, but there was something feverish buried beneath it. Something that hadn't been there before.
"It isn't about the girl." His tongue swept lazily across his lower lip. "It's about authority."
Naobito watched him in silence. He knew this son better than anyone. Naoya looked exactly like himself. He sounded exactly like himself. Yet something fundamental had shifted. His arrogance was intact. His composure was intact, but the certainty...
The certainty had become obsession. Then, all at once, Naobito laughed.
Not politely. Far from quietly. He laughed until his shoulders shook.
Naoya's jaw tightened.
"I never thought I'd live long enough," Naobito managed between laughs, "to watch Naoya Zenin turn into a bitch over a woman."
The room temperature dropped, Naoya didn't answer. Didn't argue or even glare. He simply stood. Straightened the sleeves of his kimono with meticulous care and walked out.
Behind him, his father's laughter echoed through the estate, following him down the endless corridors like an insult that refused to die.
Naoya never once looked back. His destination had already been decided. The oldest chamber in the estate. A place few Zenin entered anymore. Dust rested upon ancient shelves lined with forgotten scrolls, techniques abandoned by modern jujutsu—too impractical, too costly, too demanding to justify their existence. Most considered them relics. Naoya considered them untapped advantages.
He disappeared inside and hours later, he emerged.
His hair clung damply to his forehead. Sweat soaked through the collar of his robes. Every breath came slower than usual, each one carrying the weight of profound cursed-energy exhaustion. Residual cursed energy still crackled lazily around his fingertips before dissolving into the air. A new mark adorning the inside of his palm, bruise-size shaped. It was Naoya’s first aid kit, just in case you wouldn’t listen to reason.
A servant hurried to meet him, bowing deeply as she offered a clean towel.
"Lord Naoya."
He accepted it without slowing his pace.
"Lord Naobito asked me to inquire..." she began carefully before lowering her eyes. "...should preparations for the engagement proceed?"
Naoya wiped the sweat from his face in silence.
Then, almost absentmindedly, he glanced over his shoulder. His eyes settled on the servant as she struggled to keep pace beside him. A slow grin tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"As planned?"
The young woman swallowed beneath the weight of his gaze.
"No."
Another measured step.
"Accelerate them."
She bowed immediately, relief already blooming in her chest as she turned to leave. She had served the Zenin household long enough to know what it usually meant when one of its men emerged drenched in sweat, cursed energy still clinging to his skin after hours locked inside a training chamber.
She was almost out of earshot, when...
"You'll do."
His voice was calm. Matter-of-fact. He tossed the damp towel onto the floor without so much as looking at her.
"Come to my room once you've delivered the message."
For the briefest instant, her fingers tightened around the towel as she picked it up. Then she bowed once more.
"As you wish, Lord Naoya."
Then she disappeared down the corridor without another word.
Naoya watched her go for only a second before resuming his walk. His thoughts had already returned to you. Someone else had dared put his hands on what was meant to become his. Waiting was no longer an option. Tomorrow, he would reclaim the board.
Tonight... Tonight, he simply needed somewhere to bury his temper. It hardly mattered who—she just needed to be warm. An outlet to wear your face while he bled the frustration out of his system. It was useless to fight a lost battle… he already knew who his mind would insist on seeing.
—
Dealing with the men of the Zenin Clan was never easy—not if you were a woman or a servant, or in this case, both.
She had already attended to the Clan Head more than once, to his younger brother, even to Ranta on occasion, who, to her surprise, had always seemed immeasurably different from the rest. But never Naoya. The heir to the Zenin Clan was something else entirely. Whatever appetites made the other Zenin men unbearable, Naoya seemed to cultivate his elsewhere, away from the estate's watchful eyes.
"M-My Lord..."
She fought to keep her voice steady. Naoya ignored the effort completely. Instead, he circled her at an unhurried pace, eyes roaming over every inch of her as though searching for something that had been misplaced.
"You'll call me husband, girl."
The order came without inflection. She nodded immediately.
“My Lord can call me—”
"I don't care." He cut her off before she could finish. "I'll call you whatever I please."
Impatience laced every word.
His hand reached for the ribbon tying her hair. One sharp tug, and it unraveled, dark strands spilling down her back in a soft cascade.
The resemblance with you was distant, almost laughable, but his imagination was willing to do the rest. At least, she would do to numb him for the night. Close enough to quiet this sudden hunger of his.
He watched her in silence, assessing.
—
Miles away, beneath the quiet lights of Tokyo Jujutsu High's infirmary, you stirred faintly against the narrow medical bed.
Shoko had only stepped out to retrieve fresh bandages. Gojo had followed her.
The room settled into silence. Yuta never noticed. He was still sitting beside you, your hand resting inside both of his as though letting go simply wasn't an option anymore.
Your eyelashes fluttered.
"...Yuta?"
His head lifted immediately.
"I'm here."
Your fingers shifted weakly inside his grasp. His thumb instinctively traced slow circles over your knuckles.
"You stayed..."
"I said I would."
Another silence settled between you. Smaller this time. Warmer. Your eyes searched his face. He looked exhausted. The dark circles beneath his eyes. The cursed entrails still clinging to the sleeves of his uniform. The tiny cut across his cheek he'd forgotten to clean.
"...You should rest too."
He smiled.
"So should you."
"...I'm trying."
"So am I."
Something about the answer made you laugh. Barely. Just enough to soften the room. Yuta watched you for a long second. Too long. His gaze drifted without meaning to.
From your eyes... to your lips...then immediately back again.
Heat rushed into Yuta’s ears.
—
"Hurry."
The servant girl obeyed without another word, fumbling with the layers of her kimono beneath the crushing weight of her master’s gaze.
Whether from fear or innocence, she never noticed the quiet wrongness behind his expression, too anxious to recognize the sickness that drenched Naoya’s actions. The girl stood very still and very naked.
"Say it."
She blinked.
"...My Lord?"
His patience thinned.
"Call me husband."
He wanted to hear it. To hear how naturally the word would sound spoken aloud.
“…H-husband—”
"No."
A loose strand of her hair wrapped lazily around his finger.
“Again…”
“Husband.”
This time, it pleased him. A smile, faint enough to be mistaken for a trick of the light, touched the corner of his mouth.
He closed the distance in a single step. She squeezed her eyes shut preparing herself for the usual roughness. Every encounter she'd ever had with the Zenin Clan had taught her to expect nothing else. Instead—
Both of his hands rose to cradle her face.
So unexpectedly gentle that her entire body locked in place. Her cheeks burned. Her eyes fluttered open. His face hovered only inches away, his breath ghosting over her lips with deliberate restraint.
His lips curved ever so slightly.
"(Y/N)..."
The name escaped him before he could stop it. His expression hardened for the briefest instant. The realization struck him a heartbeat later and then features settled back into that familiar composure.
"...You don't get to belong to anyone else."
The words fell like a vow spoken to the wrong woman.
—
"...Sorry."
"For what?"
"I..."
He couldn't even finish the sentence. He had promised he would wait, but his body refused to honor that promise. His gaze drifted to your lips again before he forced it away.
Your hand squeezed his. Almost absentmindedly.
Yuta froze.
You probably hadn't even realized you'd done it. He stared at your intertwined fingers as though they were something impossibly precious.
“… You should go.”
Yuta shook his head.
“You need to rest, Yuta.” You insisted. “Please.”
A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he kept his eyes fixed on your joined hands. He didn't dare look up. He already knew what would happen if he did.
"...Don’t ask me to leave.”
You sighed.
"I don't remember you being so stubborn.”
Against his better judgment, he looked up.
Your lips met his gaze. Damn it.
"I'm sorry."
You assumed he meant your comment.
He didn't.
"You keep apologizing."
"...I know."
Your voices had fallen so quiet that the steady rhythm of the monitors sounded louder than either of you. His eyes found yours again. Neither of you looked away.
Slowly... Almost imperceptibly...
Yuta leaned forward.
Not because he expected anything. Not because he thought he deserved it. Simply because every instinct he possessed wanted to close that last impossible distance.
Your breathing slowed. So did his. You didn't retreat. Neither did he.
The space between your faces disappeared inch by inch until all that remained was shared breath.
Warm.
Unsteady.
Your eyes slipped shut first.
—
Naoya lowered his head and brushed a kiss against this poor replacement’s lips.
He was impossibly gentle. Gentle enough to leave her believing—if only for a heartbeat—that perhaps every rumor she'd ever heard about Naoya Zenin had been exaggerated.
Unfortunately, that lonely kiss was the last kindness she would ever receive from him.
Whatever discipline Naoya prided himself on dissolved that night, giving way to a greed sharpened by sleepless nights and countless mornings spent chasing relief that never truly came.
He began by slowly undoing the impostor, each deliberate thrust of his powerful hips accompanied by soft bites pressed along the heaving curve of her spine whenever he was able to bottom down on her.
His tongue slipped out to taste the thin sheen of sweat on her neck as he viciously drove into the woman who was supposed to be you, claiming the space between her warm thighs as though it belonged to YOU.
“(Y/N) —”
Naoya growled low in his throat and, in one smooth motion, buried himself completely. So deep she gasped. So deep he was certain he'd reached her cervix. Then he held himself perfectly still, his hands gripping her hips harder than he should, forcing her to feel every vein and ridge along his shaft.
One hand slid into her hair, giving it a sharp tug. She winced, and he grinned. With her back pressed against his sweat-slick chest, his other hand slowly wrapped around her delicate neck.
“I should have cut Yuta’s head off the instant he dared to touch you…” the heir growled near what he imagined was your ear. “…Then kept it to give to you as a wedding gift.”
In his mind, it was you beneath him, not the poor servant girl whose only sin was resembling someone else. His hand tightened around your neck; it was your throat that ached beneath his grip, your voice that broke into ragged pleas no longer sounding entirely human— pleas that ranged from the word "husband" to desperate requests for him to finally be done.
Neither plea was answered. Neither was enough to quiet the obsession fueled by a girl who wasn't even there.
The wrong woman endured a sentence meant for another.
—
Yuta gulped.
One heartbeat.
Two.
Three.
His forehead came to rest against yours.
He wet his lips.
Just a little closer.
He leaned in.
Closer.
The infirmary door slid open.
"Well," Gojo said far too cheerfully, "this is either excellent timing..."
Shoko walked in behind him, took one look at the frozen students before her, and sighed.
"...Or terrible."
You and Yuta sprang apart so quickly your joined hands flew apart as though burned. Gojo's grin grew positively criminal.
"I leave you two alone for five minutes."
Yuta had never wished harder for the earth to open and swallow him whole.
—
Naoya finally felt his peak approaching, and with a ragged exhale, he painted her back with thick ribbons of Zenin seed. To then, let his head fall back as every muscle in his body relaxed at once.
He breathed out slowly, long and relieved.
"Finally," he murmured as he opened his eyes. "...I can think straight again."
Not a single word was offered to the poor, exhausted girl left among his sheets. Nothing. He simply climbed out of bed and glanced over his shoulder.
“Change the sheets and leave.”
Naoya crossed the room and disappeared into the bathroom. He wanted to wash the sweat and every other reminder of his lapse in control from his skin. They no longer belonged there, nor did he care to leave them.
Cold water cascaded over his body, rinsing away the last traces of the night. A slow smile spread across his lips as his thoughts drifted back to the ancient chamber.
He looked at the mark in his palm.
"Interesting."
His thumb brushed lightly over it.
"It's already working."
<-PREVIOUS CHAPTER / NEXT CHAPTER SOON
🔞-> Spicy artwork for this chapter 👅
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Close Mic—
Pairings:: Keonho x F!6th member illit reader Genre:: slow burn, fluff, backstage romance, idol AU Warnings:: online attention, awkward flirting, idol stress WC:: ~1,150-1,250 Synopsis:: A collab between 6th member reader from illit and Keonho from cortis turns into a viral moment when their ending fairy eye contact steals the entire stage.
The practice room had smelled faintly like cool air conditioning, convenience store ramen that someone had abandoned two hours ago, and hairspray.
It was almost around midnight.
You sat on the cold practice floor tying your shoelaces tighter while music echoed from the speakers for what felt like the thousandth time that night.
Across the room, Keonho wiped sweat from his forehead and the back of his neck with a towel before bringing his gaze towards you.
"You keep rushing the turn during the second chorus."
You looked up immediately. "I don't."
"You literally just did, I was watching your timing."
"That sounds like you're blaming me."
"That's because I am."
Keonho stared at you for a second before laughing quietly under his breath. Not loud. Never loud.
Just to make you feel strangely victorious. The choreographer had clapped his hands from in front of the mirror. "Again from the partner section!"
Groans filled the room.
You pushed yourself up with a very dramatic sigh while Keonho reached over to carefully steady your wrists before you lost balance.
The touch lasted much more longer than it should have. Still, both of you noticed, but didn't say anything.
·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳
The collaboration announcement blew up online two days later. Fans were already dissecting the blurry rehearsal photos and videos like detectives solving a national crisis.
"I'm sat."
"WHY DO THEY LOOK SO GOOD STANDING NEXT TO EACH OTHER GUYS???"
"The height difference HELLO??"
You instantly regretted opening social media. Inside the Illit dorm, the members crowded around your phone like tigers spotting their prey.
"Oh my gosh," Wonhee gasped dramatically. "People are already shipping you two."
You dropped face first onto the couch. "I hate all of you."
"Seems like you don't hate him though," Yunah sang.
"C'mon, I barely even know him."
"Then why are you blushing?"
"I'm actually not."
"You actually are."
You threw a pillow at Yunah's face.
·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳
Meanwhile, somewhere in Seoul, Cortis was being much more unbearable.
Keonho sat quietly scrolling through comments while his members leaned over his shoulders.
"Bro," James wheezed. "This leaked post has 400k likes already and rehearsals haven't even happened publicly yet."
Martin pointed dramatically at the screen. "Wait, pause there."
Keonho frowned. "Why?"
"You looked at her like she was the most cutest thing on this Earth."
The room erupted.
Keonho shoved him away immediately. "You guys are so annoying."
"You're not even denying it though," Seonghyeon whispered.
A water bottle went flying across the room.
·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳
The very first public rehearsal happened at an award show pre recording.
That was somehow much more worse. There were cameras everywhere, staff running around with clipboards, idols greeting each other backstage.
You adjusted the sleeves of your oversized jacket nervously while staring at the stage monitors.
"You nervous?"
Keonho had appeared beside you so quietly you almost jumped off the stage.
"A little."
"You know the choreography perfectly."
"That's not the scary part you know."
"The cameras?"
"The cameras."
Keonho nodded once like he understood completely. Then he held out a cold water bottle.
You blinked. "Is this for me?"
"You look dehydrated."
Your fingers brushed his slightly, neither of you moved away fast enough though.
·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳
Practice after that became much more easier.
You started recognizing his footsteps outside of the rehearsal rooms.
Keonho started saving the spot beside him without thinking twice about it.
You guys shared earbuds while reviewing your stage recording, and argued over choreography details, mocked each other's terrible midnight snack choices.
And somewhere in the middle of the exhausting rehearsals and the fluorescent lights in the practice room, being around each other stopped feeling nerve wracking. It started feeling comfortable.
·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳
The night of the performance arrived much more faster than expected.
The entire venue buzzed with noise, stylists rushed around backstage fixing outfits and microphones while the staff had counted down the remaining minutes.
You stood near the side stage entrance trying to steady your breathing. Your in ear monitor cracked softly. Then Keonho bumped his shoulder against yours.
"You okay?"
You quickly nodded. "Yeah."
He chucked softly. "You look terrified."
"That's because I am."
"You hide it well."
"We'll do fine." Keonho said softly.
Not you'll do fine.
We.
Something about that settled your nerves almost immediately.
·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳
The stage lights exploded across the arena.
Music thundered through the speakers, the crowd screamed loud enough to shake the floor beneath.
You barely remembered the opening formation afterward.
Everything blurred together into one: sharp choreography, silver lights, camera cranes moving overhead, Keonho's hand catching yours perfectly during partner work.
The audience's reaction got louder halfway through the performance, especially during the center duet section.
Your chemistry had become too natural to have to fake anymore. Every glance lingered for half a second longer, every movement looked effortless together.
And fans noticed, of course they noticed.
Then came the ending pose.
Confetti drifted down slowly as the music slowly faded. You and Keonho held your positions, breathing slightly uneven, still caught in the intensity of the stage.
A second passed.
Then Keonho turned his head towards you, not fully, just enough to look at you.
His expression softened in a way that didn't match the stage anymore. Like the performance ended for everyone else... except for you two.
You looked back at him without thinking.
And for a brief, unguarded moment, you guys just... stayed like that.
No camera awareness, no choreography, just eye contact that felt too quiet to belong in a roaring arena.
The crowd had noticed immediately, screams spiked.
Fans online would later on call this the moment the whole stage "shifted."
And neither of you broke it first.
a.n:: sorry this is short! reblogs are appreciated!

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WINNER OF THE WAITING GAME ⋮ °❀⋆.ೃ࿔.
⌗ ꒰ℯom 𝓈eonghyeon x f!reader ꒱ ❤︎ 16 slides, fluff, idol!seonghyeon, 6th member of illit!reader, reader's faceclaim is stella of h2h
⌗ meeting your childhood friend and crush couldn't have ended up giving you anything better ࿔*:・゚
메시지: thank you anon for requesting and thank you everyone for all the love on my martin post 🙇♀️🫶
more under the cut!
#4 you are NOT him bro
pov; your crush’s older bandmate thinks you like him instead
6th member of newjeans f!reader x seonghyeon (written x smau)
feat; crush!seonghyeon, bff!keonho, bff!martin (cortis), bff!hyein, minji, danielle, hanni (njz), bff!wonhee (illit), bff!stella (h2h)
wc; 467, 18 ss prev next
reading the written part is optional, it just adds more context 😋 you can skip it and go straight to the smau if u’d like!
“ew, this is so cringe.” you stare at your mac, re-reading the lyrics you had just written
you're supposed to be writing the lyrics for one of your upcoming songs, replay. title track, actually.
which is so good for you! except you don't like the lyrics. you think they're corny.
the producers liked it, they said the lyrics were addictive. but, no matter how you rewrite it, you still feel the same about it.
you sigh, burying your face in your hands
maaaaybe you just need the opinion of somebody outside your team?
soo that rules out.. minji, hanni, dani, haerin, hyein.
that's the majority of songwriters you know.
luckily, the past few days you’ve been hanging out with somebody new.
somebody who LOVES writing and making songs so much, that if he was in my little pony, that's what his cutie mark would represent.
so, you text him.
“okay, let’s see” martin says, already opening up the bag of chips you brought
🦮 “HOLY, who is this song about??” martin
🐨 “NOBODY??” you
that's a lie.
it's not about nobody, it's about a certain somebody.
🦮 “replaying every song you made??? well shit, why didn’t you just ask him for help, if he makes songs??”
🐨 “BECAUSE its not about anyone”
you hold eye contact with him, as if that makes it any better
it doesn't. it makes it much more awkward instead.
🦮 “is this about me??”
ohhhh my god.
🐨 “NO BRO what the hell”
he leans back slightly, analysing the lyrics infront of him like he's trying to solve a mystery.
does he really think you have a crush on him??
ew.
🦮 “well, i think the lyrics are really good. but this part feels a little out of place, so maybe let’s revise that”
you work on the song together for the next hour or so.
you already feel so much better about the song, he clearly knows his stuff.
but then, you get a message
“shit, it’s so late.” you say after checking your phone. “minji texted me”
🦮 “okay, just look into the verse i told you about”
"I will, I will. thank you sososo much” you say as you lean in to give him a hug.
when you get home, you check your phone just to see a message from martin asking about the meaning of the song, again.
the hangouts with him after this feel weird.
martin is weirdly nicer to you.
he always was nice, but it just felt different.
never rejects you when you ask to go out, even though he's clearly busy
always offers to pay for you, knowing you have much more money in your wallet than him (he literally has trainee debts to pay)
teases you more, but in this soft way, as if he's babying you.
aaand then it clicks.
author’s note: i dont like this as much as the previous one but 🥹
taglist; @sweetlydolls @kkyunho @meowchness @haezki @kirbzyq @hyuneskkami @qngelical @ikeufied @inadazeee @rositapinchesfresita lmk if u want to be added!
ᴊᴇʟʟʏᴏᴜꜱ ଳ༄.°
CH. 1 WHO’S JUHOON?
NAVIGATION౨ৎ .✦ ݁˖ series masterlist. crts masterlist.⟢
───── idol! juhoon ⨯ fem idol!reader ˚. ᵎᵎ SMAU + WRITTEN. ongoing
synopsis⨾ Y/N, the 6th member, Illit can’t stop thinking about Juhoon from Cortis after seeing him at an award show. With her mischievous teammates scheming behind the scenes, she tries all sorts of quirky, subtle ways to catch his attention—cute mishaps, accidental “run-ins,” and hopelessly over-the-top gestures—but Juhoon, a fresh debutant laser-focused on his career, remains oblivious.
content warnings; slow burn, angst
next chapter . . .
trinity hall
THREE. problematic alcohol tolerance gap relationship
summary. you’ve just moved in for your first year of university when you’re jumpscared by heeseung coming out of your room after a one night stand with your roommate. turns out he (and all his bumass friends) also live in the same residence hall 👎
· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·
previous / next
series masterlist
author's note. Do not save him (he's exactly where he wants to be) also the edit in question
taglist. @desirxriki @bangrei @idkidc1522 @indacodemo @woninlove @ellushic @chloe2444332 @kiwicup @notyesha @yoisoobin @nomnomnamjoonn @jazzygirlengene @meikstv @lilyhaslowiron @xoheedeung @apriglw @cosm1cgarbag3
#IHATEMYBF! ── ahn keonho smau
SYNOPSIS. you finally bagged the man of your dreams after all that time spent chasing him. your relationship was fine until it wasn’t. location turned off, texts being left on read, and even cheating rumors. you try to get out of the relationship but you just can’t, and it turns into a messy cycle you keep getting pulled back into. until you meet keonho, fell in love at first sight. that would’ve been perfect except you already have a boyfriend. will you stay with your boyfriend or go through drama just to get with keonho?
FIVE. is she single?? 👀
prev | masterlist | next
AUTHOR NOTE. me posting consistently 🙀🙀 imma try to pump out as much as i can for depriving you guys from this for like 20 days..(my apologies)
TAGLIST. @miles4eva @kittsnewera @cortisean @yangflavor1009 @letterstohyeon @jjjjuliethidgaf @joonsflwr @dollhoonie @toj1sgf @soupysnoopy1 @slvdsjjk @hoszhe @loverkiiller @megamatt43 @zooweemimi @junpom @mitsubal0ver @keonho4sho @aadsn00 @decadentcollectionpersona @fairystrength @bamgeutori @cokewithcameron @liove-madl @miisoluvsdeer @arasdaydream7 @nikisauras @kpopsmutty69 @seokiify @jungwonsrealwife1 @sese-blurbs @angelyseo @clemenzzz @rickyshensgirlfriend @tonowhiny @myuekii @mcflurry057 @wonmura @hironosushiis @jjuhyeon @rikchic @minjsui @idkwhattodoformyusername123 @d4nyyi @enhajungwonheart @pixel-zombie @cinnamon-roll-s @blossomxie
© jebi-won ── all rights reserved, please don't copy, repost, translate, or modify my work without my permission.

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MUSE
basketball player juhoon x muse reader x swimmer keonho
Being a muse is fun, but gaining attention from boys when you're a manhater could be worse, especially when two popular varsity players competing with each other for your attention is much worser. and you know what? fuck it, you finally gave them what they’ve been wanting. What could eventually happen anyways.
contains and warning: profanity, reader is lowk a player, toxic reader, obsessive behavior, misandrist reader, party animals, alcohol consumption, angst, fluff(?), misandrist reader, gimp reader, fluff, yearning, college setting, love triangle, fling, unattainable, yearning, multi-interest, etc.
wc: 173
(short write & smau)
Playlist
taglist: @zooweemimi @haneurin @hyeonverse
Pa rt 2. Part 3.
—————————————————————————
You sighed heavily and put down your phone back to the coffee table, you can’t deal with this shit right now. You’re still worrying that rumors might spread between the two of you, especially if someone clipped you. Great. A new problem. You lie back on your couch to try to nap (if you even can).
You ran your fingers through your scalp, trying to think of what to do next. One problem is that rumors might spread. Another one is that Juhoon might assume that I like him. Then another is Keonho who’s just there, always there. Man this is stressing me the fuck out.
First things first, I will text juhoon, apologize about whatever the fuck he had to witness from me, and give back his shirt. Alright I think this is good enough. You think this would be a great idea as you move on to another plan, outlining a strategy as you stare at the ceiling. At this point, you can't even fall asleep as you're rethinking your life decisions.
⌗ kim ryul - bf rules for imaginary men
summary; you’re not officially dating but unfortunately for everyone involved, ryul seems to be the only person who doesn’t think that’s relevant. in ryul’s defense, the guy best friend wasn’t real but neither was the boyfriend title tho?
warnings; jealousy, lowkey possessive ryul, exclusive but not officially dating, ohyul and woojin being annoying as always, a kiss
wc; 1,9k - requested
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘ ⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘ ⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘ ⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
the conversation had long since drifted from whatever game ohyul had insisted everyone play at the start of the night
empty bottles littered the coffee table, snacks half demolished, and everyone had settled into that warm, tipsy state where conversations somehow became both philosophical and weirdly deep at times
you were curled up on the loveseat beside ryul, your legs draped over his lap
one of his hands rested lazily on your shin while he listened to woojin and his girlfriend argue over something neither of them actually cared about
“okay but seriously,” ohyul said suddenly, pointing a chip at you, “what if your boyfriend had a girl best friend,”
you shrugged, “i don’t care,”