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wttcsms · 11 months

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i'll pretend you'll stay forever ; kento nanami.

pairing kento nanami x f!reader word count 2.4k synopsis no one knows that the bodyguard for the prime minister's daughter fucks her on a daily basis. content contains bodyguard!nanami x prime minister's daughter!reader, big, beefy, strong nanami hehe, creampie, slight brat taming, pet names (baby, good girl, bad girl), cockwarming, dom!nanami, hair pulling, car sex, nanami makes you call him sir author's notes s2 was animated for the nanami girlies

Kento Nanami is good at his job.

Granted, he’s been practically bred for the position. Born and raised by a mother and father who also dealt in espionage, sent to boarding schools that would feed him directly to The Academy, constantly being reminded of his purpose. Agent Nanami serves as one of the Prime Minister’s most trusted secret operatives. A select few who are given the most sensitive assignments.

“K-Kento — too much,” your shaky whines sound even louder than they actually are, emphasized by the silence in his car.

Sensitive — yes, that’s what you are.

“You can take it.” He tells you, gently stroking your cheek. His calloused thumb wipes away a stray tear, and he takes you in. You’re still tearing up, your lashes slick, and you’re pouting at him. You’re always pouting, probably because growing up, you’ve never been told no. It’s not required according to his assignment file (most of what Nanami has been doing with you has decidedly been not required), but Nanami’s been trying hard to give you lessons that will have you behaving politely and like a good girl rather than the spoiled brat you actually are.

Kento Nanami is good at his job.

When he’s told that he is to be the primary bodyguard for the Prime Minister’s daughter, he accepts it without hesitation. Everyone else has had no luck with you, and you certainly don’t seem to be bothered by that fact. You’re in college now, and you want nothing more than to skip lectures and go to parties, both of which is rather difficult when you have a bodyguard watching your every move and reporting directly to your father.

Nanami goes about his assignment in a different way. There’s another bodyguard, one who is also watching you, but young Itadori cannot possibly go about protecting the Prime Minister’s most beloved daughter safe all by himself. He’s barely graduated from the Academy.

Besides, you automatically dislike any of the guards assigned to you. Itadori is a nice, young man, and in different circumstances, everyone is certain that you would have enjoyed his company. The fact that his job is to protect you seems to be his only fatal flaw in your eyes.

Nanami is no stranger to undercover work, and so posing as a final year doctoral candidate at the university you’re attending is an easy cover. Setting up the perfect chain of events that leads to you specifically choosing him to be your economics tutor was also an easy enough task.

And somewhere along the lines, you got this idea inside of your pretty, little head that you’re just the smartest, sneakiest girl around. You think you’re evading Itadori’s watchful eyes, taking advantage of his rookie status even though he’s always aware you’re “sneaking off” to meet with Nanami. You think you’re finally rebelling against your father’s strict instructions to stay out of trouble.

And while Nanami does ensure that you keep out of trouble, he’s not sure if your father will approve with how he’s keeping you so obedient.

Kento Nanami is good at his job.

You’re not the first brat that he’s had to train, but you’re proving to be quite the star student. You hold back any more whining complaints, and instead, you’re straddling his lap like the good girl he knows you can be, his thick cock fitting snugly inside your pussy.

Both of your hands are clutching onto his broad shoulders, your pretty, manicured nails digging into the stiff cotton of his blue button-up. His mind doesn’t register the sting of your nails practically sinking into his skin. All he can focus on is what a pretty, dazed little mess you are.

“See?” He coos, sounding not the least bit condescending. The warmth of his baritone, the reassuring strokes on your cheek — Nanami is a gentleman. You practically beam with pride as he tells you, “I told you you could take it. Such a good girl.”

You still haven’t moved yet, and Nanami whispers more words of praise for you. It only took two weeks of training to get you to understand that you can beg for his touch, his attention, his cock, all you want, but he gives it all to you under his terms and conditions. He knows you want some friction, knows that you need it so badly because why else are your walls clenching down so heavily on his length? You’re being so patient with him that he feels himself getting impossibly harder at the thought of your perfect behavior.

“You want to ride me, baby?” The question comes out as a throaty whisper, the clear desire he has for you evident in his rough tone.

You nod eagerly, damn near salivating at the thought of finally being able to take what you want.

“Use your words.” He demands, moving his hand to caress your face once more before letting his thumb toy with your bottom lip.

“Yes,” you whimper out, trying your hardest to resist the temptation to start moving, to have the feeling of his cock brushing against your walls, in and out, in and out.

His eyes narrow, and his cold demeanor is enough to keep you frozen in place. Oh, you’ve upset him.

“You were being such a good girl, too.” He shakes his head in disappointment. “When you answer me, what are you supposed to say?”

“Y-yes, sir.”

“And if you knew this, why didn’t you say it the first time?” The way he snaps at you shouldn’t give your tummy butterflies, but it does. Nanami is far kinder and gentler than he lets on, and it’s why you enjoy it when he takes on such a demanding role when it’s just the two of you. No one can handle your attitude as well as Nanami, and that’s precisely why you’re warming his cock right now, walls tightening around him with every stern scolding that leaves his mouth.

“You can’t answer me?” The sharpness of his tone turns you demure, making you turn your head down and away from him, refusing to answer or look at him, and he frowns at that. You feel him wrapping your hair around his hand, and the movements are soft, slow, gentle at first—

—and with speed and dexterity that shouldn’t belong to a mere student, he’s yanking you by your hair, forcing you to snap your head up and look him in his cold eyes.

“You were behaving so well earlier.” He feigns disappointment, but the hungry glint in his eyes tells you that he’s been looking forward to whatever punishment he has in store for you. “What a shame. I was going to let you have me however you wanted, let you take control for once.” He leans down, whispering in your ear. “Instead, it looks like I get to fuck you like the bad girl you really are, hm?”

Before you can protest, apologize, beg for mercy, he takes his free hand to grip your waist, strong enough to lift you slightly off of him, only to slam you back down on his dick.

You let out a strangled cry at the sudden intrusion. It’s one thing to have him sink into you inch by inch; it’s another thing entirely to have him practically impale you with his dick.

His thrusts are rough, hard, unforgiving. Never sloppy, though — Nanami’s much too meticulous to reduce himself to a wild animal, even though he’s fucking you so hard, you can’t tell if he hates your guts or just wants to rearrange them.

His hand is still tangled in your hair, and he pulls some more, forces your neck to arch up. He leans in, licking at the soft skin of your neck before nipping at the skin, hard enough to leave a mark you’ll need to cover up with a turtleneck because no amount of concealer can save you now.

You mewl in pain at the sensation, but it’s obvious you love it. You’re dripping all over his dick, forcing wet, squelching sounds to fill the car every time he moves inside of you. You should be ashamed — would be ashamed — if only the overwhelming pleasure didn’t leave your mind shrouded in a hazy mist of lust and rapture. The pinpricks of pain from how he’s pulling your hair and from the fresh lovebites marking your flesh should hurt more, but you’re too lost in the way his cock is filling you up.

“Look at that.” Nanami growls, untangling his hand from your hair in favor of putting his fingers to better use: stroking your clit. “You’re fucking soaked.” You look down as he commands, and your eyes widen in surprise, even though it shouldn’t come as such a shock to you. The front of his trousers is absolutely drenched with your juices, and your clit practically glistens in the faint moonlight that sneaks past the tint of his car. “Is this why you like to be a bad girl? Because you like getting fucked like a fleshlight, is that it?”

You want to shake your head no. You want to tell him that you are good, that you’re not a bad girl. But the stimulation on your clit, his harsh words, the way his cock is repeatedly hitting that special spot of yours — it’s all too much for you to handle.

“I want to treat you so well, baby. I want to spoil you, give you everything, but you make it so — fucking — difficult.” He speaks through clenched teeth, the warmth and ecstasy of being buried in your sweet pussy slowly chipping away at his resolve. The last three words of his sentence have all been punctuated by a particularly brutal thrust, and you’re certain that by the end of this, your cunt will keep the shape of his cock forever.

“I’m sorry!” You scream out, tears flowing freely down your cheeks now. The pleasure is mind-numbing, earth-shattering, reality-altering. Neither of you know what you’re apologizing for. Is it for being a bad girl when all Nanami wants is for you to behave so he can bring you the world at your feet? Is it for the wet mess you’re making all over his nice clothes and cock? Or is it for the fact that you’re breaking a cardinal rule, one that he will be most displeased by?

Maybe it’s all of the above, but if you had to pick, the apology would be for the fact that you’re cumming without permission. Your conscious mind is aware that Nanami is not going to be very happy with you, but this climax has you seeing stars. You can’t find it in yourself to worry about future consequences when you’re losing yourself in the throes of passion and pleasure. You’re drenching his cock in your cum, seeing stars, and reduced to feeling like a boneless mess. You slump against his strong chest, eyes struggling to remain open as you rest your head on one of his big, broad shoulders.

The punishment doesn’t come immediately — it rarely ever does. Nanami bides his time and doles out his punishments when you least expect it. He does it to keep you on edge, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t excite you.

Instead, he lets you rest against him, reduced to nothing more than a little, fucked-out mess. You feel a rumble from his chest, a series of grunts and curses leaving his mouth as the bucking of his hips is done so harshly, you’re certain that you’re going to be bruised everywhere, from the soft flesh of your thighs to your poor cervix. A few more thrusts and Nanami is certain that he is planted as deep as he could go, the tip of his cock hitting you at your most sensitive spot.

You feel him bury his face into your hair, taking in the scent of your shampoo and the lingering aroma of sex and sweat. His cock throbs in sporadic bursts, and you hear him grunt out your name like a broken prayer.

He cums, unloading a hot, heavy load directly inside of you, flooding you. You think you forget how to breathe, and all you can do is just take it, take all of him.

The warm sensation has you moaning softly; the feeling of him completely dominating your senses, your body, you, has you wanting him to never let you go, to never leave. You tighten your core, trying to squeeze more of his cum into you as he lets out little groans of pleasure from above you. You love reducing him to a moaning mess, reducing him to this sex-dazed state whenever he lets go because of you.

You don’t think you’re capable of speech, throat raw from your previous screams of pleasure, but you find that you don’t have to speak to let Nanami know what you want. As you lift your head from his shoulder, relishing in the sight of Nanami with his head leaned back, cheeks flushed from the exertion of giving you the best dick of your life, he opens his eyes to meet yours. Leaning down, he captures your lips and gives you a messy, sloppy kiss that is so unbecoming and out of character for him.

The makeout session lasts until your eyes feel droopy and you’re not responding anymore. Nanami just looks down at you with a fondness that he hasn’t felt for anyone else in a while. You’re all tuckered out, and you’re breathing softly and slowly, lost to the world of dreaming. He’s a bit exhausted, too. He should pull you off his cock and buckle you back safely in the passenger seat, but he sees a small trail of his cum dribbling out of your overstuffed pussy and he figures it’s less of a mess if he just keeps you nice and plugged up for the time being.

Before he can close his eyes and join you, the crackle of his telecom planted in his watch comes to life. The static doesn’t do much to alter Itadori’s voice.

“Y1 to K1, this is Y1 requesting status of the Princess. Over.”

The “Princess” is currently dozing peacefully with his cum settling in her cunt. Nanami thinks that’s too crude to relay over the comms, though.

“K1 to Y1, Princess is secured. Over.”

#smut #nanami kento x reader #nanami smut #jjk smut #one shot #drabble #kento nanami x you #kento nanami x reader #jjk x reader #imagine #kinktober 2023

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ohbueckers · 19 days

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WHAT’S MY NAME? say you gotta leave but i know you wanna stay. you just waiting on the traffic jam to finish, girl. the things that we could do in twenty minutes.

THIS IS PART THREE! part one and two. pairing, paige bueckers x tutor!oc. notes, thank you for all the love you guys are too sweet, like.. anyways lmk what you wanna see! this fic is looking pretty longish? rn. warnings, sexual content, more interruptions. (i’m cooking, trust…)

a selection of songs from paige’s playlist played through her dorm room, the speakers playing some old school r&b—just low enough to set the mood but not distract. paige leaned back against the headboard, her white sports bra clinging to her skin, abs visible as she propped herself between liana’s legs. they’d been done with studying ages ago, the notes they hadn’t even bothered to move to a desk long forgotten, and now the only thing that mattered was the way their lips moved against each other.

liana pulled away, breathless but grinning, a giggle escaping as she gently pushed at paige’s shoulders, the blonde dropping her hand from her face with a chuckle. “i really have to go.” her tone was more playful than serious, and it was a given that neither of them wanted her to leave.

paige smirked, leaning in to nibble at her neck, her lips brushing against her pulse point. “you always say that,” she murmured, her voice low, teasing. “but here you are, still sittin’ pretty in my lap.”

liana licked her lips, trying to suppress a laugh as she squirmed under paige’s attention. “i mean it this time! naomi’s been blowing up my phone.” as if on cue, her phone buzzed again from where it sat beside the two of them on the bed, the screen lighting up with another message. paige glanced at it but didn’t care to look too closely. naomi wasn’t her concern right now.

liana reached for the phone, but paige caught her wrist, pulling her hand back. “c’mon, just a few more minutes,” paige pleaded, her hands beginning to rub up and down on her ass. “traffic’s probably bad to your apartment anyway.”

liana rolled her eyes but didn’t fight it. “you’re impossible, know that?” she muttered, crumbling completely as she leaned back into paige’s kiss. it wasn’t hard to give in—especially when she was this close, her hands firm and steady as they slid up her back.

when they pulled away again, paige watched as liana shifted, moving over her until she was straddling her waist, her knees digging into the mattress on either side. she looked down at her with amusement and something dark—it hit paige hard. how could a girl she’d known for such a short amount of time have her feeling like this?

liana flipped her hair to one side, the curls cascading over her shoulder as she studied paige with those wide, curious eyes. paige was mesmerized, completely caught up in how liana looked at her, how her hands slowly roamed her body, fingers tracing the line of her sports bra, dipping down to touch the exposed skin of her stomach. her gaze stayed locked on her, smirking slightly as if taking in a sight she’d never seen before.

“i’m never getting out of here at this rate,” liana teased, shaking her head as her hands drifted lower, dangerously low.

“not like you wanted to. like, let’s be forreal,” paige shot back, a cocky grin tugging at her lips as she let her own hands explore liana’s thighs, her fingers trailing over the soft material of her leggings. she kissed a slow trail up to her ear, nibbling lightly, making liana gasp and grip her tighter.

another buzz made liana turn her head, glancing over at the screen, seeing naomi’s contact take over her phone again. she screwed her eyes shut in response, reality hitting her. she was actually in a predicament, and never, ever in her life would she have imagined it to be one like this.

paige noticed the shift in liana’s expression, pulling back just enough to look into her eyes. “you really finna’ answer that?” she asked, her voice softer now, yet there was still a bit of frustration behind them. paige wasn’t one to be possessive—at least, that’s what she told herself. but something about liana got under her skin, made her want more. and the fact that she couldn’t even get a few uninterrupted hours with her was driving her crazy. she shamefully wanted her all to herself, and that realization was a little too intense for her liking.

liana hesitated, her fingers still resting on paige’s shoulders. “i should… but i don’t want to.”

paige’s grin returned, a slow, knowing smile that wasn’t cocky this time, but more so relieved. “then don’t.” her hands found their way back to her thighs, pulling her even closer if that were possible. she wanted liana to stay, needed her to. not just because of the physical connection, but because she made her feel something she hadn’t felt in a while—alive, excited, and well, maybe a little scared.

“stay with me,” she whispered, her words more of a plea than a command. she didn’t want to think about why she cared so much or why liana’s choice mattered. all she knew was that she didn’t want this to end. both her time with her and whatever this was.

before she knew it, liana was tossing her phone aside, letting it go unanswered on the bed. the sound of naomi’s texts faded into the background as she leaned in, pressing her lips to paige’s in a kiss that left no room for hesitation. it was all hunger and need, a desperation to hold onto the moment for as long as they could.

paige began moving down to her neck, tasting the sweetness of liana’s skin as she placed soft kisses in all the right places. liana, lips slightly parted and eyes shut, couldn’t help but ask: “do you even remember anything i taught you tonight?” she giggled, trying to catch her breath even as she tilted her head to give paige better access.

paige’s lips hovered just above liana’s collarbone, her breath hot against her skin as she mumbled, “uh-huh… blah blah blah… something about… functions.” she punctuated her words with more kisses, each one making liana’s giggles turn into soft noises and whines.

“functions?” liana teased, clearly amused as she raised an eyebrow. but even as she tried to keep it light, she couldn’t deny how good paige felt, how right this all seemed. nobody had ever made her feel like this.

paige pulled back just slightly, just enough to catch liana’s eyes with her own. “yeah, it’s gon’ come back… eventually,” she pressed one last kiss to her neck before moving back to her face.

they both laughed softly into each other’s mouths before it dissolved into something more serious. paige’s hands slipped lower, fingers gliding inside the waistband of liana’s pants, teasing her in a way only she would.

but just as things were heating up again, the muffled sound of voices echoed from outside the door. paige froze, her lips still pressed against her as she listened, recognizing the familiar voices of her teammates. the interruption made her want to scream… for the second time.

“seriously?” paige groaned, pulling back, her forehead resting against liana’s chest as she tried to gather herself. this was getting ridiculous. they couldn’t catch a break.

liana thought it was almost comical at this point, but also incredibly annoying. “guess we’re cursed, huh?” she said with a soft laugh, trying to make light of the situation.

“seems like it. lemme’ walk you out,” and with a reluctant breath, paige helped liana off the bed, stumbling behind her towards the door. standing in front of it, liana instinctively began to smooth out her clothes, paige reaching for a shirt to throw over her head. afterwards, paige’s hands moved without thinking, reaching out to fix liana’s hair, gently tucking a few loose curl behind her ear.

when they stepped into the living area, the team was already sprawled across the couches, the sound of the door creaking open enough to snap their attention away from the tv. paige barely had a second to brace herself before the comments started flying.

“oh! oh, okay. yeaaah, oh, okay,” kk rambled out, her voice dripping with teasing insinuation. the pair could barely hear over the laughter and accusations, liana shooting them all a tight-lipped grin, making a note in her head to ask paige why she didn’t tell her they’d be on their asses the moment they stepped out.

aubrey, lounging with her legs kicked up on the coffee table, gave a low whistle. “bet y’all were ‘studying’ real hard, huh?”

paige threw her head down, walking extremely slow and unable to hold back the laugh that shook through her shoulders. she wasn’t embarrassed—far from it. she wasn’t sure she ever did around her team. when she lifted her head again, her grin was wide, flashing teeth as she shook her head at them.

“this is my cue,” liana said with a small laugh, though her cheeks were tinted a deeper shade of red. she slung her tutoring bag over her shoulder, doing her best to keep her cool. neither of them had yet to bring up where they stood after all of this, whether it’d continue to be a casual thing or not… and for some reason, it felt like the issue in communication from the start would be their downfall.

“alright, lemme’ get you out of here,” paige chuckled, giving her a wide-eyed look before placing a hand on her back and guiding her toward the door. the moment they stepped out, liana was bombarded with another round of remarks. all good-natured despite the intent behind them to make fun of paige.

“later, liana!” ice called after her with a grin.

“you get that tutor money, girlfriend!” nika added.

once liana was out the door and headed down the hallway, a never-ending smile on her face, paige stayed in the doorway for a moment, leaning against the frame. she watched her leave, her eyes lingering on her back as she disappeared around the corner. there was something about watching her go that made a little too eager for the next time they’d be alone. no distractions.

she sighed, finally closing the door and turning back towards the group, who paige really wished weren’t in her living area right now. there was almost never a quiet moment with them, some small chatter always being made and in this case, a lot of it being loud. paige couldn’t help but smirk as she made her way to the table, where a bag of fries sat waiting for her, courtesy of jana.

“what’d we miss?” kk teased, her eyes showing she was genuinely curious as if she were living vicariously through her. she sat on the arm of the couch, arms crossed and waiting for a response to every question everyone threw out. yes, every question.

“yeah, how’d that tutoring session really go?”

“we know this bitch doesn’t need help in algebra.”

“not too much.” paige shook her head, the grin on her face refusing to fade as she shoved a few fries into her mouth. “y’all are wild,” she said, her voice lighthearted but she was clearly pleased with the attention. “but it was good. real good.”

“real good, huh?” jana chimed in, raising an eyebrow as she leaned against the armrest. “so, are we talking ‘tutoring good,’ or…?”

“or ‘get a room good’?” ice finished for her, snickering.

paige rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up. “you know what? believe what you want,” she concluded, sitting down so she was still facing her teammates.

nika’s voice cut through the noise, a hint of seriousness in her voice threading through her usual teasing tone. “so, what are you gonna do about naomi, though?”

the question hung in the air for a moment, and paige paused mid-bite, her expression faltering just slightly as she swallowed her food. she knew they weren’t just asking out of curiosity, they were looking out for her, but she still felt the shift as much as she didn’t want to. naomi wouldn’t be an actual issue, right? paige didn’t even know if it’d last long enough for it to. actually… who was she kidding?

she adjusted her posture, dragging her hand through her hair. “they’re not even dating,” she said, as if that was an actual answer to nika’s question. shit, everybody’s question. “exes in some rekindling process, i guess—but i’m shutting it down.”

the group got loud again. “oh, that’s really convincing, paige,” aubrey said through ragged breaths.

paige made a face, tossing a fry at her. “man, what are you talking about?”

aubrey leaned forward. “nothing. just, you’re saying they got history?” she cupped her lips, beginning to chuckle as if she knew paige was in trouble. maybe naomi wasn’t just an obstacle the blonde could ignore, and an actual issue if she was actually interested in liana.

alright. maybe she has some things to consider.

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crios31 · 5 months

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Chapter 2: Traveling to Japan

Story building and smut (Cunnilingus, cowgirl, creampie, doggy style)

Lenght 2700 words

You are at the airport and it’s finally time to board your plane to Japan with Wendy for a new chapter of your life.

“Take care of each other over there.” Says your mother, hugging both of you. “Ah, I almost forgot, it’s the file concerning the scholarship program plus some other things that I deemed useful.” She releases her hug before giving you the files which you put in your backpack. “Thanks mom.”

“Say hello to everyone on our behalf.” asks your father when it’s his turn to hug you.

Your goodbyes now done, you board the plane , waving one last time to your parents on the way. Inside the plane, you both go to your place in first class and follow the instructions of the crew before the take-off.

An hour later, the plane is now at cruising altitude so you decide to read the file your mother gave. On the seat beside you, Wendy is reading a book.

The first part of the file is about the public information that you mostly know. That the program is for girls that show aptitude academically or athletically and it was created by your Mother after she opened her first school. Scholarship recipients are accepted in all your Mother’s school or can in another school if they don’t want to move, in both cases all of their living expenses are taken care of. The rules they had to follow are simple, maintaining good results and good behavior.

The second part is about the non-public information. To start, the real way to enter the program is that your mother chose them, the academic or athletic potential being one more reason. By entering the program, there is more than just living expenses that are taken care of, more financial support could be given like paying a family debt. Other specific issues can also be resolved. Another benefit is the possibility to have access to private tutoring to skip grades in order to graduate earlier. In exchange for all of that, one more rule exists, they are not allowed to date.

Regarding the selection of those that will work for you, most of them cannot refuse it. Wendy was one of the exceptions. For the selection process of the applicants it is a strict one, a minimum age requirement of eighteen moreover the appearance and personality are taken into account for the decision. Those that fall short will be recommended to other employers, also a possibility is to become a standard employee in one of your ventures because of their skills. In those two cases they will become exempt from the rules of the program after graduation. In exchange they will only be asked to recruit people that could enter the program. This part also contains detailed data about the cost of the program, the number of recipients and so on.

Finally, the last part of the file begins with a note explaining that the goal of the program and the selection is for you to have people you can trust at your side and that you’ll slowly take responsibility in the program. After this section of the note you read “Grandkids?” followed by a winking smiley, both seemed to have been handwritten by your mother. This addition from her makes you laugh. The end of the note informed that the documents following it are profiles of girls she deemed ready for selection.

From your first look, there are around twenty candidates' profiles and all of them are older than you. You take your time studying each of them, taking notes. You also ask Wendy to look at each of the profiles after you’re done with it.

Later during the flight, you have just finished sorting out the profiles with Wendy in order to select a first batch of girls that will work for you.

“We are down to three sir, two of them are studying in the University that you will join, while the last one is studying in another one, in Seoul. How do you want to proceed?”

“For the one in the other University, just give her the news and explain to her that she can focus on University for now. For the others, we'll contact them to set up a meeting, starting with this one.” You give a specific profile to Wendy.

“Kim Minji? Understood, I'll arrange that during our stay in Japan.”

A few hours after the plane landed at Narita Airport, you have settled in at your hotel. Sitting in the hotel’s restaurants you are savoring with Wendy some Kobe’s beef. Finishing your plate, you look on your left, through the window at Tokyo’s nighttime view.

“So delicious I really wanted to taste this if I ever had the opportunity to come to Japan.”

“I’ll make sure you can try as many specialties as you can during our stay.”

“So many things come to my mind!”

As you talk, the waiter takes your empty dishes and quickly comes back with the dessert.

“Oh it’s so good too, I’ll try to do one later.”

You smile looking at the baking fanatic. “Do you want to try mine?” You push your plate toward her.

“Yes, thanks.” She quickly takes a big spoonful of your dessert. “It’s delicious too.”

“You can finish it”

“Really? Are you full?” She asks her spoon hovering above the dessert.

“Not really but I will eat another dessert in our room tonight.” You answer, looking at her in the eyes.

She raises an eyebrow at your answer before focusing back on the sweet treat in front of her. When she finishes it, you pay for the meal complimenting the service and the food to the waiter, then you exit the restaurant.

In the elevator, you take a look at Wendy, in particular her miniskirt and you can’t stop yourself from touching her butt.

“Sir?” She turns her head toward you in surprise. Two floors later, the elevator stops for other people to enter, in reaction, Wendy immediately shoves your hand away from her. You wait for them to turn their backs to you before once again grabbing her behind, but this time your hand is under her skirt. Her body becomes tense and you smile mischievously at her when your eyes cross hers. You continue to fondle her ass, sometimes brushing your middle finger against her pussy, as the elevator goes up you can feel her slowly becoming wet.

When you arrive at your floor, you reluctantly stop. Wendy quickly passes the opened door of the elevator and you follow suit, after entering your room she sits on the bed looking at you.

“Couldn’t you wait for us to be in the room to do that?”

“No, your cute little butt was too tempting.” You walk toward the bed, stopping in front of Wendy, you lean forward putting your hands on her tights. “And it was fun watching you get all flustered.” You give her a quick peck.

“Fun for you.” She complains in a low voice feeling your hands behind her knees.

“Now let’s have some fun, shall we?” You suddenly lift her legs causing her to yelp as she loses her balance, her upper body falling on the mattress. You grab her panties and take it off from her body. Placing your hands on the back of her thighs, you spread them.

You get on your knees as you begin kissing her legs, starting from her calves, slowly making your way up her leg. She feels the touch of your lips approaching her pussy, you alternate from one leg to the other. Wendy's growing excitement makes her breathing quicker as she bites her bottom lip.

Finally arriving at your destination, you take a look at her glistening folds. You lick her lower lips before inserting your tongue inside her. As you explore her pussy your jaw gets wet from her nectar.

“Fuck… that’s feel good.” She gasps, putting one hand on your head when you replace your tongue with your finger in order to tease her small bud with your mouth. You hook your finger toward the roof of her pussy. Her angelic voice gets louder and her walls get tighter as you continue with your task.

“I’m getting close.” Hearing this, you put a second finger in her and intensify your tongue’s work.

You feel her grip in your hair tightening and the heels of her shoes burying in your back, causing you some pain. But soon enough her hips rise from the bed taking support on you with her legs and the mattress for her upper body. From her mouth comes a scream of pleasure as she orgasms.

Her body relaxes, freeing you from her legs. You stand up and look at Wendy who is still feeling the aftermath of her climax. You take off your shirt her wipe your face of her slicks

“Do you want me to return the favor?” Wendy asks in a soft voice.

“Maybe another time, for now I want to be in you.” You get naked finally freeing your member, climbing on the bed, you give a long kiss to your partner.

“Then let me be on top.” She says as you let her push you to lay on your back. Wendy takes off her shoes then standing up, she unzips her skirt while looking at you. As the garment fell at her feet she smiles feeling your gaze on her exposed lower body. She places herself above you, taking a hold of your cock to align it with her entrance.

“Damn feels good.” You say watching your length disappear in Wendy when she lowers body.

“You’re stretching me so much.”She began to ride you, taking support on your chest. At first, she starts slowly before gradually increasing her pace.

On your side you're not inactive, taking hold of her waist to help her before sliding a hand under her top. You feel her abs as she drops on you, moving your hand higher, you take hold of one of her boobs over her bra. Her breast in your grasp, you start kneading it.

Locking eyes with Wendy you feel the grip of her walls around your member getting stronger, in response you raise your hips meeting halfway when she drops on you.

“Sir... Shit! I’m coming.” She stops moving her body tensing up as she cums, her walls clamping around your cock.

“I’m close too.” Using both your hands you lift her body before bringing her down, each time hitting her cervix. Soon enough, you discharge a big load inside her.

Following your release Wendy falls on you, her head resting on your chest and you both take some time to catch your breath. You feel yourself getting soft in her as you put your arms around her.

“Let’s get something to drink.” You say giving a light smack on her butt before releasing the hug.

“I’m so full, good thing that I take birth control or I would end up pregnant before long.” Says Wendy as she gets off from you with your semen leaking from her slit.

“Yeah, it’s too early for a kid.” You follow Wendy, taking the glass of water she hands you. While you clench your thirst she takes off her top and bra. You look at her nude body moving to the front of the window.

“I dreamed about visiting new countries and right now I can enjoy this beautiful view.” She says watching the city’s light. “And in addition to that I get to travel with a handsome man.” Turning her head she gives you a wide smile.

“Well now that I know this information, I’ll have you accompany me every time I travel abroad.”

“That would be nice.” She responds with a chuckle. “I heard good things about you before but I didn’t expect you to treat me so well until now. I hope it’ll stay like that”

“Well, you are someone fun to be with,plus you are also a smart and attractive woman. So, I see no reason to change it.” While talking you approach her, taking her into your embrace.

“Thanks.” She whispers, as she puts her hands on top of yours. Both of you stay silent observing the outside but at one point Wendy feels your cock hardening against her butt. “Someone wants more.”

“Always, and I don’t think I’m the only one with how you're grinding your butt against me.”

“You caught me.” She bends over leaning on the window.

You slightly bend your knees to align your cock with her pussy, putting your tip against it. “Hope you’re ready because I won’t stop until the end.” Taking a firm hold of her hips, you thrust all your length inside her in one go.

“Ahhh! Fuck so deep!” As she takes your onslaught, Wendy has to tiptoed and progressively gets her body closer to the window. Soon enough she finds herself with her upper body stuck against the glass. Under your thrust against the entrance of her womb, her pussy begins to twitch as she orgasms.

As you warn her before you continue to fuck her hard throughout her climax as you are far from yours. Following this, she cums again at least twice, hence her eyes are now rolled back, her mouth is open with only moans coming out of it. Furthermore, the only reason why she is still standing is you.

“Where do you want me to cum?”

“Anywhere, just cum.. it’s too much.” She barely answered between moans.

Following her words, you quickly make a decision as you are reaching your limit. You take out your cock of her snatch, placing it between her asscheeks. Giving a few thrusts to finish yourself, you then release streams of semen across her back.

You release your hold on Wendy’s waist. Without any strength left in her legs, she falls on the floor, resting her upper body against the window.

You take a few steps back, relishing the sight in front of you with the city and Tokyo’s Tower as background. Through the fog on the glass caused by your frolicking, the city’s lights are partially illuminating Wendy’s naked body and her cum covered back

“I agree with your earlier comment, this is a great view.” You immortalize this scene with a photo.

During the following days, you both explored the streets of Tokyo. Visiting the traditional district of Asakusa with its Sanctuary and the National Museum of Tokyo. Other places you get to see were, the Kokyo Gaien National Garden where you both enjoyed the peace and quiet before having a tour in the Imperial Palace of Tokyo which is beside it. Along the way, you also tried a lot of different kinds of food.

At the end of your stay in Tokyo, you take the Shinkansen to Osaka. After arriving and dropping your luggage at the hotel, you take a taxi, remembering some memories linked to this city during the ride.

The taxi stops in front of a two storey house, after paying the driver you ring the doorbell. A few moments later, a man who looks to be in his early forties gets out of the house, opening the gate to Wendy and you.

“Ah, good to see you kid.” says the man in Japanese

“Good to see you too, Uncle. Here is a gift for receiving us.”

“Thank you, oh nice wine, I think I drank some in the past, with your father. By the way, who is this young lady?”

“This is Wendy. Wendy, this is uncle Kosaku” You make the presentation as Wendy doesn't speak Japanese and your uncle, while he can somewhat understand Korean he is not fluent in It.

“Let’s get inside, the other should be waiting for you.” You both followed him inside the house. Immediately after taking off your shoes, your hear footsteps quickly approaching you. You only have the time to raise your head before someone hugs you.

“I’m so happy you’re here! I missed you so much!” says the owner of the feminine voice, hugging you.

“I missed you too, Sana.” You say, returning the hug.

#kpop smut #red velvet smut #red velvet wendy #wendy smut #red velvet #girl group smut #m reader #male reader #son seungwan

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whatawaitsus · 10 months

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It's your final year at Killian Argent's School for the Supernatural; a prestigious boarding school for supernatural beings. In theory this doesn't mean much. Your future has been set since you were a child: graduate from a prestigious boarding school, get into an equally prestigious college that your parents will pay for, and then get a prestigious well-paying job with your father's connections. It is what is, you're past the point of complaining at this point in your life.

Despite being one of the most expensive schools in the nation, nothing particularly interesting has happened at the school in the nine years you've been here— aside from the occasional accidental possession caused by a ghost or the common room getting flooded after a nixie gets too frustrated over their homework.

That is until students start to go missing.

Oh, and you start having prophetic dreams of your missing brother. But, that's probably better to unpack later, in all honesty.

What Awaits Us is upcoming choicescript interactive fiction project. The game is rated 16+ for violence, manipulation, kidnapping, strong language, drug use, religious imagery and trauma and optional suggestive content.

Choose what kind of witch you are; customize your gender, pronouns, sexuality, physical appearance, personality, magic class, uniform style, dorm decor, familiar, and more.

Balance trying to solve the disappearances of your peers and your performance as a student.

Establish your relationships with your parents and older brother by playing through flashbacks.

Deicide on your class schedule and extracurricular activity that will have the ability to affect your stats.

Choose one out of five romantic options; a moody kitsune, an expressive siren, a bubbly godling, or a quiet godling, or an apathetic arachne.

Solve the mystery of the missing kids and potentially get a lead on your runaway brother.

Unwillingly gain a weird almost mentor figure in the form of one of your teachers.

Rei Nakamura [they/them, kitsune]: C's roommate. Rei has been at this school as long as you, though your interactions are next to none. You always spot their name at the top of all the classes you share. They generally keep to themselves, only interacting with C and the kids they tutor. When they do talk it's usually an insult or a refusal to do something. It's not a surprise that they're generally disliked by most of the school. How they happened to befriend an outgoing siren is beyond you.

Cleo/Cyrus Valtameri [gender selectable, siren]: Rei's roommate. C is.. a lot. They transferred during your ninth term; originally from Drialia, which is clear from their accent. They joined the theater club nearly as soon as they were enrolled and have landed nearly every lead since then. The two of you don't interact much, but when you do happen to cross paths they're always animatedly nice to you; they're like that to everyone except Rei, really. You almost swear you've seen the two of them point at you and laugh.

Lydia Taylor* [she/her, godling]: Lukas's twin sister. You've been partnered up with Lydia a few times for projects and she's always a diligent student. She's in the boxing club, which is honestly kind of intimidating, especially after what happened between her and Stephan Kim in your sixth term. But, she's always been plenty nice to you too, not fake nice like you've realized most of your classmates are. She and her brother are never apart from eachother, either.

Lukas Taylor [he/him, godling]: Lydia's twin brother. Lukas Taylor has been going through an 'emo phase' about as long as you've known him. You vaguely remember the mop of strawberry blond hair that was on his head when he first came here, though you have a suspicion he bribed a mage to wipe it from the yearbooks. Lukas is quiet; the polar opposite of his sister. You don't think he's in any clubs, though he is always carrying around a weathered sketchbook.

Nico/Nadia Ruiz-Estrada [gender selectable, arachne]: Your roommate. N and you have shared a dorm for the past five years, and they're possibly your best friend. Despite constantly skipping all of their classes, barring the ones the two of you share, their grades remain high. Even after knowing them for six years you still don't know if they care about anything besides displeasing their older sister. They started a band in your ninth year; Bite The Bullet. Half of the kids in your term are convinced they were formerly in prison, something that makes N laugh hysterically whenever you bring it up.

Polyamorous routes available with Rei & Cleo/Cyrus and Lukas & Nico/Nadia.

*Lydia is only romancable by female and nonbinary MC's.*

#interactive fiction #interactive novel #interactive game #choicescript #choice of games #cog #choose your own adventure #cyoa #cyoa game #no demo #interact-if #interact if #hosted games #dashingdon #if wip #if game #interaction fiction wip

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dixons-sunshine · 4 months

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Study Buddy | Young!Daryl Dixon x Young!Fem!Reader

*GIF isn't mine.*

Summary: Your exams were coming up soon. While studying for your history exam, you offered to tutor your boyfriend. However, Daryl accidentally revealed that he's much smarter at school than he gave himself credit for.

Genre: Fluff.

Era: Pre apocalypse.

Part of the Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams AU.

Warnings: Swearing.

Word count: 1.3k.

A/n: This sucks. I don't like this at all, but I really wanted to get some actual writing done, so I powered through. I hope you like this nonetheless.

The late afternoon sun was starting its slow descend beyond the hills. The birds' chirps were slowly being replaced by those of crickets, and the owls were making their presence known one by one. There was a lone pigeon resting on the bench outside your trailer home, but the unsuspecting creature was startled by the rumbling of a stopping truck.

Daryl Dixon got out of the truck his brother had unofficially given him, a shopping bag with multiple snacks and a few drinks in his hand. He slammed the driver's side door shut behind him before walking up the small steps into your trailer. Without even really thinking about it, Daryl walked down the familiar narrow hallway that lead to your room.

The sound of your door opening diverted your attention away from the history textbook that rested on your bed. An enormous smile spread across your face at the sight of your handsome boyfriend. You got up from the bed and walked over to him, looping your arms around his neck and pulling him in for a soft, tender kiss.

Daryl, shy as ever, could feel his face heat up at your actions, but he didn't resist. His hand that wasn't holding the bag rested on the small of your back, his fingers lightly gripping at your sweater. When you pulled back, he gave you a lopsided smile, his eyes holding a softness that he reserved only for you.

You smiled at him, your fingers playing with his hair at the nape of his neck. “Hey, handsome,” you greeted him in a whisper. “Took you long enough.”

Daryl chuckled and shrugged. “Sorry, sunshine. Got caught up at the store,” he explained, pulling back from your hold slightly to reach into the bag and take out a soda for you. “Got yer favourite for ya.”

You gently took the drink from his hands, sending him a look of appreciation. “Have I ever told you how much I love you?”

Daryl ducked his head in embarrassment, his cheeks taking on the colour of the red rose bush outside your window. “Ya might've mentioned it once or twice.”

“Well,” you began, popping the lid of the can open. “Then I definitely don't tell you that enough. I love you, Dar.”

“Love ya too, peach.” Daryl smiled a small smile, before moving to plop down on your bed. He picked up the textbook that rested on your bed and started flipping through it, his eyes skimming over the pages. “Ya already started studyin'?”

You sat down next to him, placing the can of soda on your nightstand. “Only to make flashcards.” To prove your point, you picked up the aforementioned flashcards from your nightstand. “I was just skimming through for good measure. Just wanted to make sure I didn't miss anything important.” You made yourself more comfortable on the bed, adjusting the flashcards. “You ready to get some studying done?”

Daryl nodded. “How's this gon' work?” he asked.

“Well, I wanna see how much you know, so I'm gonna start asking random questions to see what we need to pay special attention to.”

“Alrigh',” Daryl shrugged nonchalantly. “Do yer worst.”

You smirked playfully. “I'll try my best.” You shuffled the cards, selecting a random one. “Okay, let's start easy. When did the Second World War start?”

“September 1st, 1939. Tha's when it was generally considered to have started. S'when the Nazi's invaded Poland,” Daryl replied with zero hesitation, absentmindedly twirling one of the loose threads on your blanket. “The UK and France officially declared war on the third, two days after the invasion.”

You looked at your boyfriend with raised eyebrows, impressed by the way he answered the question so easily and proceeded to answer two separate questions without being asked to do so. You knew Daryl was smart, there was no doubt about that, but you were still a bit surprised. Daryl made it no secret to you that he wasn't the best student, so his perfect answer to the question was a nice surprise.

“Correct,” you told him with a smile. “Next question: How many alliances were there in the Second World War, and what were they called?”

Daryl pondered over the question for a moment. “Two. The Allies and the Axis Powers, right?”

You flipped the flashcard over and read the answer, humming in approval. “Correct again. You're on a roll, Dar.”

Daryl shook his head, shrugging nonchalantly. “Ya ain't askin' any hard questions. Everybody knows the answers to those.”

You narrowed your eyes playfully, shuffling through the flashcards again to find a different question. “Okay, then, smart guy. How about this one: Which cities did the United States detonate atomic bombs over?”

“Nagasaki and Hiroshima. Two cities in Japan. The bombs were dropped on August 6th and August 9th. The US wanted to force the Japanese to surrender.”

“Okay, time out,” you started, carelessly tossing the flashcards to the side. “Please tell me again how you're not smart? Because those were perfect answers and you haven't even read through the textbook yet.”

Daryl shrugged again, averting his eyes to the bed. “Ain't smart. Jus' heard the teacher talkin' 'bout it in class. Ain't tha' hard to remember it. 'Sides, history is interestin'. S'the only class I dun' mind attendin'.”

You laughed in disbelief, looking at your boyfriend in wonder. “You manage to find a way to surprise me every day. I thought I knew everything about you, and now I learn something new. You're a history nerd.”

Daryl scoffed incredulously. “Ain't no damn nerd. Jus' 'cause I know some history doesn't mean m'a nerd.”

“Sure,” you started, sending him a playful smile. “So I know a lot about science and I get called a nerd by you, but you know a lot about history and I can't call you a nerd?”

“Damn straight,” Daryl replied, his tone playful. “Yer a nerd. Tha's one of the many reasons why I fell fer ya.”

“I love you, too, Mr I-know-that-Hitler-was-born-on-the-30th-of-April.”

“He was born on the 20th. He shot himself on the 30th, ten days after his birthday.” You smirked, and Daryl instantly knew that he had fallen into your trap. “Oh, fuck ya fer tha'.”

“My point has been proven,” you said with a victorious smile, leaning forward to let your lips hover over Daryl's. “No need to be ashamed of being a nerd. I find it extremely hot.”

Daryl hummed, his lips grazing against yours. “Ya find it hot tha' I know 'bout the world war? Then yer gon' find it really hot when we get to the Cold War.”

“Colour me intrigued,” you whispered, before closing the gap between the two of you.

Daryl's lips moved against yours hungrily. Soon, he gently guided you to lay on your back, hovering over you as his lips trailed down your jaw to your neck. You giggled, leaning your head back to allow him more access.

“You might be really smart in history, Dar, but I'm not. I need to study,” you told him.

Daryl hummed, but his kisses didn't cease. “Ya'll be fine,” he mumbled against your skin. “'Sides, we got a human anatomy exam comin' up soon. I suck at tha'. I need to get some studyin' done fer tha'.”

You laughed lightly, yielding to the desire. Well, studying would just have to wait. You had other, much more fun activities planned for the time being.

©dixons-sunshine 2024. I do not give permission for my works to be copied, modified, adapted or translated to any other site or platform without evidence of my given consent.

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merakiui · 27 days

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With the Isekai hentai, I see your vision mera omg your brain is so big. Being isekaied to hentai twst and running through all the house wardens bc they seem the most mc like. When that doesn’t work, trying it with the rest of the named cast. That doesn’t work so maybe the professors? Going through all of night raven and getting ready to go try your luck at royal sword only to find out exactly how crazy nrc is. The possibilities are endless

AAAA YES!!!! Hentai twst, which is essentially just regular twst only here it's completely normal to give your close friends Ace and Deuce handjobs during class. And instead of fighting overblots you're fucking them. Mindless, plotless smut all around. Maybe this version only exists because a certain someone (Idia) is writing a doujin with a very similar concept and by some crazy magic you managed to get sucked into the world (he wrote you in as the main character). orz

And of course in classic hentai logic your uniform just barely fits and is shorter/tighter in places that would never be acceptable in an actual academia setting. In the real world, Riddle scolds you if your skirt doesn't pass the fingertip test or if your fly is unzipped and your appearance unkempt. In this world, you spread your legs and all arguments die on his tongue.

Emotional support hole for all of the overblot cast. <3 the plot of book six is essentially you being Idia's lab rat sex doll in between his overblot. Why run tests on you when he can just fuck you against a metal examination table instead (very viable stress relief)? And of course book seven is the somno route. >:D

The whole school drools over you. It really is just pure horny all around, and the stakes are just a little higher (and far more sexual) than in the original twst world. You do not want to lose in a deal with Azul unless you're okay being at his feet, a contractual servant for sex and love and everything else. Or maybe he decides to make you work in Octavinelle's resident glory hole (because of course they have that) or you become public use...... it's completely illogical, so any and all hentai tropes are found sprinkled throughout every dorm.

Fail exams or assignments a select number of times and you're public use. <3 or you're given to the top student in that class so that he can personally tutor you. And while you're so swept up in NRC's wildness, trying to fuck your way through every guy with main character potential, you've no idea what it's like at other schools. Maybe your ticket out of this world is someone like Rollo or Neige or Che'nya, but do you really think NRC is going to let you leave campus when they're much too attached to you? :)

#twisted chit chat #n/sfw

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yuurei20 · 6 months

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Hello hello. If I don't mind asking, what's this Crowley's fan theory rejecting Deuce's application for a Magical Wheel club about?

Hello hello!! Thank you for this question! (and apologies for the delay!)

Crowley's rejection of Deuce's application for a Magical Wheel club is one of many threads connecting back to a popular theory that Crowley is making the overblots happen on purpose!

It encompasses many things, such as the three light-magic users: Kalim's enrollment is particularly suspicious, as he received his letter of acceptance a month into what would become his first year at the school.

Jamil observes, "And just like that, my nice, free campus life went up in smoke."

Kalim was homeschooled prior to NRC and Jamil says, "Some days I just didn't want to go straight home after school" (where he would have to tutor Kalim, in addition to his other duties as Kalim's servant).

Did Crowley (or someone 👀) intentionally give Jamil those two months of freedom so that he would feel the loss of that freedom all the more acutely, contributing to his overblot?

The admissions process may have been more straightforward for Silver and I do not believe we have heard anything about Rook's, but both characters were, like Kalim, the catalyst to their respective housewardens overblotting:

It is Rook who convinces Vil to watch Neige's rehearsal (which is what finally compromises Vil's tentative mental stability, and it is Crowley who put Vil in charge of production for the VDC), and Malleus' overblot is immediately preceded by a conversation with Silver.

There is also Ruggie, who says (twice) that it is rare for people from his home to become mages and who had never attended a school prior to NRC. He is an odd choice for a prestigious magic academy.

He has also only become a "middling" student thanks to Leona's tutoring, and Leona's desire to help secure a future for students like Ruggie has a significant influence on Leona's overblot.

(A point that is emphasized in the novel: "I cannot let the pack starve.")

Crowley offers the choice of retiring Malleus from the tournament in Book 2 in a decision that the famously perceptive Vil says “reeks of unconscious bias.”

Crowley also goes out of his way to emphasize how many Savanaclaw students aspire to play in the Spelldrive Pro Leagues, how Savanaclaw has lost in the first round to Diasomnia two years in a row, and how it is affecting their future.

Leona points out that he seems to be telling them to quit while they are ahead because he expects them to make fools of themselves.

When Crowley denies this, saying, "That is not my intention," Leona asks, "Then what is?"

Is it possible that Crowley never intended to retire Malleus at all, but he knew that threatening to do so would be the final straw needed to push Leona into desperation? Making him desperate enough to contract with Azul, which connects directly to his destroying of Azul’s contracts to cover up the evidence, thus instigating Azul’s own overblot?

This also ties in to some interesting coincidences around certain school events:

Savanaclaw being paired against Diasomnia in the first round of the Spelldrive Tournament every year since Malleus enrolled?

The members randomly selected for the Starsending? For Glorious Masquerade?

(Idia: "How do three Housewardens just 'coincidentally' get drawn in a raffle? That box is rigged." - Trey: "The headmage claimed he used astrology to pick us...you don't think he was lying about that, do you?")

Have all these things been as coincidental as Crowley claims, or are the suspicions of students like Trey and Idia correct and there is more going on than it seems?

There is also the inconsistency of Crowley’s money-mongering.

Is he actually interested in perks like 10% of profits from Mostro Lounge and donations from Kalim’s and Idia’s parents, or is that just his cover-up to get Jack (and thus Leona) to interfere with Azul, and to get Kalim and Ortho to NRC?

Then there is Crowley's encouraging of Ace to battle Riddle, and it is not impossible for him to be the anonymous person who reported on the school's overblotters in Book 6.

Idia himself asks, "Could someone be inducing overblots on PURPOSE...?"

To return to the original question: Magical Wheels are a hobby that Deuce has in common with Epel, as both characters discover about each other in Book 5.

Epel and Vil bond (briefly) over a blastcycle in Epel's dorm vignette, and Deuce goes on a long monologue about the freedom of blastcycles to Ace:

"If you're ever feeling blue, you just get on a blaster and tune out the world...I haven't been able to since the first day of school."

This all ties back to an even wider theory about time loops: is Crowley reliving these scenarios over and over again, and granting Deuce and Epel the stress relief of a blastcycle club resulted in an undesirable ending?

If the freedom of their own club (and being able to confide in each other earlier on) resulted in them not going to the extremes that they did in Book 5 in order to escape Ace and Vil, it is possible that Deuce did not learn his unique magic in time to stop Vil.

And that fight on the beach that led to Deuce's UM? Was over a blastcycle!

To get Deuce and Epel down to that beach for that fight they had to be feeling stressed, trapped and desperate, to the point that they were willing to break campus rules (or were flustered to the point of forgetting the rules existed, in Deuce's case) to get there: and what better an opportunity than a long-awaited chance to finally ride one of the blastcycles they have both loved for years, but Crowley has been denying them?

No fight on the beach may have meant no UM for Deuce, which may have resulted in Vil winning the overblot fight and Crowley needing to reset the world in order to try again--and this time, without a Blastcycle club.

It is all theory and conjecture :> But very fun to think about!

#twstask #twisted wonderland

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trickphotography2 · 6 months

Text

The Perfect Match

Every third week in March, fourth year medical students find out where they'll be going for their residency. A quick 2.2K word one-shot of Jake's girlfriend going through that process.

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The nervous energy in the auditorium was almost overwhelming as the clock ticked closer to 11:50AM. All across the US, fourth-year medical students gathered in ceremonies like this, ready to find out where they would be headed in just a few months to begin their residency. It had been a long week - on Monday, everyone received an email letting them know if a residency program had selected them. For those who got one, it was a waiting game to see where they would be moving. Those who hadn't been selected went through the nerve-wracking SOAP process, hoping to secure a job after graduation. With the number of medical graduates increasing faster than residency positions, it wasn't always a guarantee.

You, however, already knew where you were going and what specialty you would be practicing. For months last year, you'd flown across the country, interviewing with residency programs at different installations and civilian hospitals—backups in case you didn’t match with a base hospital and had to compete for a civilian spot. And a perk of matching through the military was getting notified of your posting in mid-December, while civilians had to wait until the third week of March.

On December 15th, you received that wonderful email alerting you that you had matched into Emergency Medicine at Naval Medical Center San Diego. Not only was Emergency Medicine a competitive specialty, but the location meant that you would finally be able to be close to your long-distance boyfriend, Jake, after seven long years.

A chance encounter over Spring Break freshman year led to late-night calls when he returned to Annapolis and you to College Park. For four years, you lived 35 minutes apart in Maryland, stealing as much time as possible together over the weekends. And after graduation, you had a long conversation about your future.

Jake had been clear from the beginning that he wanted to be a pilot, just as you had been firm about attending medical school. He supported you as you struggled through Organic and Biochemistry and tutored you in Physics. He would try not to laugh as you traced his skin, naming the muscles, bones, and systems as you reviewed for anatomy. Care packages showed up at your apartment when you spent as much time as you could getting clinical hours, volunteering in a research lab, and studying for the MCAT. Jake knew how important getting your CV ready was and tried not to complain too much when your weekends spent together were mainly catching up on chores or sleep.

Senior year, you were offered a spot at Florida State University College of Medicine. Jake had been notified in his junior year that he had been accepted into the flight program.

After graduation, you and Jake packed up your things and drove to Florida together. He had a few weeks until he had to report to Pensacola, just a 3-hour drive down I-10 from where you would be in Tallahassee. The apartment you got was right across the street from the med school, a small one-bedroom, but you knew you wouldn’t spend much time there anyway. It would be a place to eat and sleep, but most of your time would be spent on campus or driving to Jake’s in Pensacola. He would only be there for a few months until transitioning to the next base, and you wanted to spend as much time together as possible.

Unlike other medical schools, FSU required students to start in the summer to complete the Anatomy course. Over the short term, students would complete a full-body dissection. The smell of formaldehyde became commonplace, and the TAs warned you to wear shoes and scrubs you wouldn’t hate to throw away in August.

They were right.

It was a rough transition to med school, but it was manageable. And you loved it. Your professors ensured you treated the cadavers with the utmost respect while gently encouraging competition by announcing a dissection team winning each week. The faculty brought you to a rural community to learn about rural medicine, sharing food and stories with those less fortunate. The physician assistant students joined on the trip, and you learned about an inter-professional day that you’d be expected to participate in later - role-playing a case with MD, PA, pharmacy, and social work students.

And while you were working toward your dream, Jake was getting closer to his. Nights were spent catching up, and he was so excited to tell you about his flight training. He promised to get his civilian pilot license as soon as possible and rent a plane to take you up in the air. On the rare weekend you didn’t need to spend in the anatomy lab cramming for an exam, you drove to his place late Friday night and headed back to Tally on Sunday morning.

In August, Jake requested time off to come and see you celebrate finishing your first semester. Seated in the audience, he watched as your faculty member helped you don your first white coat, and you recited the Hippocratic oath. The one-week vacation before Fall term started wasn’t long enough, but you enjoyed waking up in Jake’s bed and going to the beach.

Joining the military had never been in your future, but the longer you spent around Jake and his friends, the more commissioning in the Navy seemed attractive. A medical officer recruiter spoke at the college, and you signed your paperwork. After spending a few weeks working in a clinic during the summer after the first year, you headed to Rhode Island to complete Officer Training. Jake called you as soon as you graduated, welcoming you into the service with only some light teasing about outranking you. As an Ensign, you would be forced to salute your Lieutenant boyfriend when you saw him.

It was harder to see each other when he graduated from flight school and was stationed in California, but you managed to get by with phone calls and vacations. Toward the end of your second year, Jake was sent on deployment as you studied for the Step 1 exam - testing your foundational knowledge and one of the most intimidating exams you faced. The school gave you dedicated study time, and you took advantage of his offer to study at his apartment in Lemoore. His buddy, Coyote, met you at the airport and drove you to Jake’s apartment. A bouquet of flowers was sitting on the counter, and you stared at them as you mentally ran through Anki decks to quiz yourself.

Jake came home the last week you were there. Fully recovered from the 8-hour exam, you greeted him with all the other family members on the flight line. It was the first time you saw him in his jet, and you made sure he knew how much you appreciated the sight. But too soon, you had to return to Florida and pack up your apartment in Tally to move to Pensacola for your last two years of medical school. On your last night in Lemoore, Jake took you out dancing and promised he would request leave to visit soon.

Between your rotations and his shitty schedule as a junior officer, it was hard to see one another. At the end of your third year, you hit a rocky spot and talked about breaking up. But cooler heads prevailed, and you promised to do your best to match into a residency near him. He agreed to try and get orders to be closer to you once you graduated.

Jake had been your first call on December 15th. Sobbing, you told him you’d join him in San Diego, where he’d been stationed for the last four months.

The last-minute plane tickets had been expensive, but it had been so worth it to spend Christmas with him, making plans to move your stuff across the country, and finally be together. He’d held your hand as you pulled your name from the NBME Match Database, officially alerting the civilian hospitals you’d interviewed at that you were no longer hoping to match with them.

So, while your friends waited anxiously to open their envelopes, you felt a sense of calm. In nine short weeks, you would be back in this auditorium wearing your dress whites under your cap and gown. After getting your diploma, your new orders would be published, and you would be promoted to Lieutenant. And after? Jake was scheduled to return from a deployment in a month and requested leave to help you pack up your apartment and start the cross-country road trip.

Eight years of hard work would culminate in moving in with the man you loved. Who could support you in person as you went through the hell of residency and got used to being a full-time Naval officer.

The Dean crossed the stage and welcomed everyone. As the clock struck noon, she encouraged everyone to open their envelopes.

Tearing it open, you stared at the words confirming your future - Emergency Medicine, Naval Medical Center San Diego.

Jake.

Cheers broke out, and you turned to hug your friends as they screamed with happiness or smiled to hide disappointment on not getting their top choice.

The ceremony began with each regional campus called up to allow the students to announce their match.

You hadn’t planned on going on stage. The trip back to Tally had only been to see your favorite staff members and to support your friends as they found out where they would be moving. They had brought their family members, partners, and kids to share in the moment. You had come alone, preferring your family to go to graduation instead. But your friends dragged you into the line and handed your name card to the smiling staff.

“Hi,” you said, leaning into the microphone after the Regional Campus Dean introduced you. “I just wanted to say thank you to all of my friends and family. Without you, I wouldn’t have made it through all of this. I matched in Emergency Medicine and will be moving across country to be with my boyfriend, who kept me sane throughout all of this. And I’ll be at Naval Medical Center San Diego

The crowd cheered louder than they had for any of your classmates. Blushing, you lifted your hand and waved, stepping back and quickly walking toward the Campus Dean to shake his hand. But as you neared, he smiled and took a step back.

You froze.

Jake grinned.

Wearing his dress whites, he quickly strode toward you, pulling you into his arms. “What are you doing here?” you demanded, blinking away tears.

“Wasn’t gonna miss your Match Day, darlin’,” he replied.

“You’re supposed to be on the carrier!”

“Might have lied about that.” There wasn’t a trace of regret on his face. “You worked so hard for this, and I wanted to surprise you. My beautiful, smart, adrenaline junky doctor girlfriend.”

“Not yet - won’t be a doctor for another few weeks.”

“You’ve got it in the bag. But I figured since you’re already trading in a couple of ranks - med student and Ensign…” Taking your left hand, he reached into his pocket and lowered himself to one knee.

Vaguely, you heard the crowd get louder, but you couldn’t tear your gaze away from Jake as he held out a diamond ring.

“I thought maybe we could change girlfriend to wife. Will you marry me?”

Unable to speak, you nodded quickly. Jake leapt to his feet and kissed you, smiling against your mouth.

The next few minutes were a blur. You hugged the Deans while Jake shook their hands, and your parents met you off stage - Jake had called to let them in on his plan. His parents texted him after watching the proposal on the school’s livestream. After promising to meet up after the ceremony, Jake joined you in the student section while your parents returned to their seats. Your friends hugged you, whispering excitedly as you showed them your engagement ring.

And later, after a celebratory dinner with your family and drinks at the beer garden with your classmates, you tumbled into bed with Jake. You could taste the beer on his tongue as he licked into your mouth, and you grinned when your ring caught the light and shimmered.

“Lieutenant and Lieutenant Seresin,” Jake chuckled, catching your hand and kissing your ring. “Sounds kinda nice.”

“Mmmm,” you hummed. “My diploma will be issued in two months, Seresin. Then I’m applying for my medical license and getting all my onboarding paperwork done for NMCSD. I might have to go by my last name for a bit… but I kinda like how it sounds with Lieutenant…”

“It does sound nice,” he agreed. “You sayin’ I’ve got 2 months to get it official, or are you telling me you wanna keep your last name?”

“Dunno,” you shrugged. “I’ve spent the last four years thinking I’d practice under my own name.”

“How do you feel about hyphenating?”

Your eyebrows shot up, “You’d be okay with that?”

“Darlin', you did the hard work, and it’s your name. As long as I can call you Doctor Seresin at home, I don’t care.”

In the middle of May, you stood at attention on stage in your whites, having quickly changed out of your cap and gown. The medical recruiter, a local chief petty officer, had been called onto the stage to publish your orders. Forcing yourself not to smile, you pressed your lips together as he read out your name — your new, hyphenated last name and all.

-----------------------------------------------------------

Notes: I used to work in a medical school, and went through three years of working on Match Day. It was one of my favorite events because of the level of excitement. (And yes, we did have a proposal one year.) But it can also be a really hard day - as state above, the number of residency spots is lower than the number of people who graduate. Every year, people go through the SOAP process and don't match. Which means they have to find something to do for a year, and then start the process over again.

Definitely didn't plan on writing this - I think in about an hour? - but I watched a class I worked with Match today and it kicked up a lot of feelings. I had the pleasure of watching young students grow into doctors, and play some small part in that.

As always, thank you to @mamachasesmayhem for encouraging me to write this, and for giving feedback.

#hangman fic #hangman x reader #jake seresin x reader #Jake Seresin #jake hangman seresin #top gun #top gun fanfiction #top gun x female reader

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crackedpumpkin · 1 year

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|| ɪᴛ ꜱᴛᴀʀᴛᴇᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ ᴋɪꜱꜱ || ᴅᴀɴɴʏ ᴘʜᴀɴᴛᴏᴍ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ||

a/n: he's so stupid. I love him.

It started with a kiss.

Then it snowballed into feelings.

It was a typical day at school, with your friends Sam and Tucker hanging around your locker while waiting for Danny.

“Look. I’m just saying it seems like you and Danny have been hanging out a lot more than usual these days.” Sam smirks, and you raise a brow in response.

“That’s because we have a science project due next month,” You deadpan, rummaging through the various textbooks in your locker. Tucker eyes the mess in your locker with disdain, hands just itching to organize it for you.

You smack his hand away with a playful scowl. “My locker, my rules.”

“But it’s a mess!” He protests.

“Correction: it’s an organized mess.”

“Whatever. Just let me know when you’re ready to see the light and change the error of your ways,” Tucker scoffs, leaning against the locker. You shrug it off, directing your attention back to Sam, who’s still skeptical of your answer.

“There’s nothing between us. Besides, you’ve seen the way he looks at Paulina.” You say calmly, playing Jenga with the carelessly stuffed files and textbooks. You hum in thought before finally selecting one of the files and ever so carefully pulling it out.

The tower of horrors wobbles slightly, and you wince. You barely manage to take it out without everything else falling, shutting the locker door with a relieved sigh.

“Yeah, but that’s Paulina. She’s just evil incarnate that the boys can’t seem to look past. But the way he looks at you is different.” Sam points out. You prop your textbooks and files on one arm with a huff, your free hand on your hip.

“He doesn’t look at me differently,” You laugh it off. “If anything, he only looks at me in admiration since I’m tutoring him in math.”

“Wow.” You turn to Tucker, who’s shaking his head with a baffled laugh, “You must’ve hit your head on the wall of denial you’re walking into.”

Okay. This is getting a little weird now, you suppose. “Why’re you guys so adamant on this crazy theory that I like Danny?” You ask. Is it so hard to believe that the both of you are just friends? Sure, maybe the boy in question is a little cute and can be clueless in an adorable way when you’re tutoring him, but that didn’t mean you gave him special treatment or anything.

“Uh- You never offered to tutor me.”

“Sam, you literally got an A on the last test.”

“You didn’t offer it to me either!”

“Tucker, you won an award for your science project last week. Look, guys,” You sigh, an amused smile on your lips as you look at the both of them struggling to find a retort, “You have to admit it. I’m not giving Danny any special treatment because I don’t have a crush on him.”

You spot Danny entering the hallway, his unkept bed hair a sight to behold. You hide a chuckle, smiling warmly when he sees the three of you. He offers a small wave, though his eyes linger on you for a little longer than Tucker and Sam.

You grin slightly, pointing at your hair in reference to his own with questioning eyes. He scoffs playfully, rolling his eyes with a charming smile and a shrug as if saying, What can you do?

He stops a short distance from the three of you, opens his locker and begins to pull out the materials needed for the day ahead. You watch him fondly for a moment, only to register Sam and Tucker’s mischievous grins. You blink, eyes flitting back and forth between the two.

“What?”

“Are you sure you don’t like him?”

“Yes, very sure.” You roll your eyes with another sigh.

Sam and Tucker exchange a look, having a silent conversation with mere nods and raised brows before they turn back to you. You look at them cluelessly, waiting for one of them to speak. “Well, if you’re so sure…Then a quick game of truth or dare won’t hurt,” Tucker suggests casually.

You ponder over it for a moment, agreeing with a simple nod. “I pick truth.”

“Do you think about Danny often?”

“I have to. He’s hopeless when it comes to biology. When I think of questions to quiz him with, I have to predict how he’ll respond.”

Tucker huffs, looking at Sam. It’s your turn.

“So, truth or dare?” Sam asks.

“Truth.” You cross your arms. You’re not risking anything with the two of them bonding over this insatiable need to see you confess to a crazy theory that isn’t true.

“Do you think Danny’s attractive?”

You hesitate. Damn it. They got you there.

“O-objectively, yes. I mean, he’s reasonably attractive. It’s not like he’s ugly, because he’s not. I wouldn’t say I don’t find him attractive because I do, but not like that-” You stutter, groaning once you see Sam’s victorious grin. You drag a hand down your face covering your eyes for a minute as you register just how utterly unconvincing any of that was.

“This is why neither of you will be in the will.”

“I was in the will??” Tucker gasps, placing a flattered hand across his chest.

“Meh. I always knew I was in it. I’ll get back into it eventually.” Sam shrugs, silently passing the baton of questions to Tucker.

“Alright, if you really don’t like him, then pick Dare,” Tucker says smugly, his eyes practically pushing forth the tempting challenge. It’s bait, and you know it.

And you take it.

“Okay then,” You straighten your back, giving him a defiant look. “I pick dare.”

He hums in thought, an idea forming in his mind. He cackles, rubbing his hands together. You gulp. This won’t end well for you.

“I dare you…to kiss Danny. On the lips, right now.”

You bite back a venom-filled curse, hands curling into fists when he specifies the loophole you’re about to exploit. A kiss on the cheek? Sure, no problem. A kiss on the hand? Even better!

But a kiss? On the lips, no less??

You’re doomed.

“You can’t go back now,” he crows in delight, Sam nodding enthusiastically. “Yeah, it’s like, the rules. Besides, if you don’t do it, then y’know….It means you like him.” She adds with a smirk.

Yeah, there’s no way she’s ever getting back in the will after this.

You glare at them both, shoving your textbooks into Tucker’s hands and taking a deep breath. You walk towards Danny, each step only heightening the thudding of your heartbeat. Your lips are suddenly dry, eyes trained solely on the boy just a few feet away.

The chatter in the hallway fades into background noise. The only thing you register is the echoing ba-dump of your heartbeat with each shaky breath. Are you really going through with this? Do you really have to prove something that you already know? What are you even thinking?

You shake your head. It’s just Danny. Danny, with his cheeky grin and kind gestures, always grabbing tiramisu for you when he passes by the grocery store on the way to your place for tutoring lessons. It’s just Danny, with his cute chuckles and easy grins sent your way once your eyes meet.

Yeah, there’s no way you like him.

He’d understand, wouldn’t he? After all, it’s just a dare set forth but Tucker. He knows how Tucker is.

This’ll be easy as pie.

You take a deep breath, oddly calm as you approach him. You tap his shoulder. He turns, a relaxed smile on his lips once he sees that it’s just you. “Hey,” He greets, nudging your side, “What’s got you looking so uneasy? Did you not get your ice cream the other night?” He teases, referring to the conversation over text you shared with him after you found out you were out of ice cream and tried to get your brother to help you buy some on the way back.

His smile falters when you don’t answer, starting to grow worried. You look up at him calmly, your hand on your hip as you regard him with a half-smile. “Danny. Whatever happens, just know that it’s Tucker’s fault.”

“Okay….?” He nods, though it’s unsure.

Good. Now you can prove them wrong. You take another step closer, your body barely brushing against his chest. You watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows thickly, suddenly aware of the lack of distance.

Before you can chicken out and pretend it all never happened, your fingers gently grab the collar of his shirt, tugging him down and pressing your lips to his. His soft cry of surprise is cut short by the sudden kiss, Tucker and Sam both gawking at your boldness. They never expected you to actually follow through with it.

Your cheeks are on fire, Danny’s hand automatically holding your waist while his other hand tenderly cups your cheek. Your nose presses against the crook of his cheek and nose, right above his soft lips that move gently, unsurely against yours.

Your grip loosens, a jolt of ecstasy running down your spine when his thumb caresses your cheek. You can’t tell if you’re actually breathing or not, but you must be if you’re still kissing him. You catch his bottom lip between the edges of your front teeth, letting it slip through with a shaky breath.

You finally pull away, eyes dazed, and cheeks flushed a crimson red. You let go of his collar, Danny leaning back with stars in his eyes as he processes the past few seconds that felt like euphoric hours.

Your chest rises and falls, panting softly as you catch your breath. The hand that cupped your cheek so tenderly had dropped to your waist, cool fingers grazing against the bare skin that peeks out below your top, leaving a trail of fire in its wake.

Your eyes can’t help but linger on how his lips are a perfect dark pink, beautifully swollen from your kiss. You step back, running your hand through your hair with a cough.

“I told you. Blame Tucker.” You manage to breathe out, your heart racing a mile a minute. You take a step back, gently removing his hands.

“Wh-what?” He’s still dazed, unable to string words together into a comprehensive sentence. He watches you leave, his eyes trained on your figure as you ease through the crowd to your first class of the day.

“Wow.” He’s startled back to his senses when Tucker approaches with Sam in tow, the former patting his shoulder with an impressed nod.

“Didn’t think she actually had the guts.” Sam comments.

“Okay, what’s going on? Why’d she suddenly-” Danny cuts himself off with a sudden cough, eyes staring blankly at his hand that held you just moments before.

“Did you like it?”

Danny huffs a bewildered exhale past his lips, slumping against his locker with a slight smile. Sam gives a low whistle as she waves a hand before his blank gaze. “He’s broken.” She confirms after he doesn’t answer her question.

“Maybe he needs another kiss to pull him back to Planet Earth,” Tucker suggests cheekily. The mere mention, however, is enough for Danny to snap back to his senses.

“What’re you talking about?”

“That’s not important right now. What’s important is whether or not you liked it.” Sam dismisses his cluelessness with a single wave of her hand. He takes a moment to think, blinking rapidly as he recalls the feeling of your lips on his.

“I…I guess I did.”

— — — — —

You sigh, placing your phone screen down after double-checking the time Danny would arrive for his scheduled tutoring lesson. You grab your empty plate, walk to the basin and start washing it.

It’d been a week since you last saw Danny, avoiding him in the hallways and even during lunch. After what you did in the hallway, could you blame yourself? Absolutely not. You did, however, text Tucker and Sam that you were going to be busy with family commitments and successfully avoided lunch with them as well by using your projects and assignments as an excuse.

You had instead writhed away in your bed, wrestling with the conflicting emotions in your heart and the thoughts running wild in your mind. You didn’t not like the kiss. It was…nice. You often found yourself subconsciously touching your lips, recalling how soft his lips were when pressed against yours. He smelled good, like the cologne you bought him for last year’s birthday.

That’s when you realized you were down bad.

It took you three days to finally accept your feelings.

You like Danny. As in, like like him.

So you did what any other girl would do when faced with new arising emotions directed at one of your closest friends.

Deflect and avoid anything and everything that had to do with him.

So that’s what you’ve been doing for the past few days, continuously leaving conversations halfway just to avoid him. It’s not like you could help it. Your heart always quickened its pace whenever he was even around, leaving you breathless each time.

But one thing you couldn’t avoid was your tutoring sessions with Danny. Try as you might, you knew he’d need help with the upcoming test. Now he’s on his way over, and you’re busy panicking.

You quickly place the now clean dish on the dish rack, moving to grab some snacks and water to bring upstairs to your room. Your hands are full, using your arm to hold the jug of water and your hand holding two glasses. Your other hand is busy balancing the abundant snacks in your grasp when the doorbell rings.

You carefully make your way over, opening the door to see Danny in front of you with a small plastic bag. “Come in,” You greet him with an awkward smile. He eyes the multitude of items in your hands, immediately reaching out and taking the jug and glasses from your hands before walking up the stairs to your room.

You follow with a grateful smile, closing the door behind you and setting the snacks on the small table in the middle of the room. “So,” Danny begins, sitting on the carpet and opening his bag, “What’ll we be working on today, miss tutor?”

You grab notebooks on your desk, placing them down along with some stationary. “Just some revision since the topics that’ll come out tomorrow is chunky in content.”

You see him hesitate in the corner of your eye. Nervousness fills the hollow pit of your stomach, praying desperately he doesn’t notice how jittery you are. “Sounds good,” He finally says after a moment with a half smile and shrug.

You sit down opposite him, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear so it won’t get in the way while you teach him about Cells and DNA. You notice him staring, raising a brow in curiosity. He raises his brows in response with a playful smile.

You brush it off as just another habit of his, shrugging and opening your textbook. “Okay, so we’ll start with something simple. Do you still remember what I taught you from our last session?”

He pulls out his notebook, flipping through the pages with a blank grin. “I think so?”

You grin. “We’ll start from the beginning.” You crack your knuckles with an excited glint in your eyes, ready to unleash a whole torrent of information on his adorably clueless self.

“So, you know about blood, right?”

“I am familiar with the term,” He hums jokingly, twirling his pencil. He leans his cheek on his hand with his elbow propped on the table, listening to your every word.

You roll your eyes at his response, cracking a small smile. “Very funny,” You reply sarcastically, Danny shrugging as he opens one of the snacks. He grabs a pair of clean chopsticks you’ve already set on the table, uses it to grab one of the crackers and starts to eat.

“Anyway,” You continue, “Red blood cells contain hemoglobin. It’s a protein that carries oxygen from your lungs to the rest of your body. Different types of cells in your blood, like white blood cells, help act as your body’s defence against infections and viruses. There’re different types, but only two are being tested for the quiz. Lymphocytes and Monocytes.”

“Oh, I remember that!”

“You do?” You look up in surprise, recalling the boy dozing in class during that particular lesson.

“Yeah, I remember thinking Mr. Lance was being Mono-tonous,” He grins. You press your lips together in an unimpressed roll of your eyes, leaning over and shoving his arm playfully as he chuckles at your reaction.

“What?” He protests, “I’m only telling the truth! Come on, Miss Tutor, get back to tutoring already.” He gives you an exaggerated frown with a shake of his head, your jaw dropping in an offended gasp.

“Excuse me. You’re lucky I even made the time for you.” You shoot back.

“Yeah, I’m glad you did. I missed you the last few days.”

You pause, eyes widening at his words. He clears his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. “I mean, Tucker, Sam and I missed you.” He clarifies. Your heart sinks in your chest at this, pursing your lips as you hum.

“I’m sorry, I had a lot of…family commitments.” You say softly, eyes focused on the notebook in front of you. You don’t dare to look at him, sensing his gaze on you.

“That’s okay,” He says after a moment, his voice warm and kind, just like always. “I’m just glad you’re okay now.”

You feel a prick of guilt, closing your eyes and wishing that you didn’t lie. But how could you confess that so readily, when you aren’t even sure of how Danny feels? You manage a nod, your hair shifting and falling past your ear, obstructing your vision momentarily.

“So, what’s this about?” You look up to see him pointing to a graph in the textbook, his expression lost as he tries to understand the explanation written below.

“That’s a graph for increased red blood cell count over five years.” You start to explain.

“But why’s it so high?”

“Science.” You shrug. “I mean, causes are usually either smoking, kidney disease, alcoholism….” The words die in your throat when you feel warm fingers brushing the hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear. You look up with a start, Danny’s entire body stiffening as soon as he registers his fingers brushing against your bare skin.

Your cheeks instantly warm, aflame with a fierce heat threatening to spread across your face and neck. He jerks his hand back with wide eyes, his face mirroring your exact expression.

“I- uh, i-it just looked like you were having trouble seeing your notebook, is all,” He stammers out, crossing his arms and tucking his hands under his elbows as if he’s trying to glue them there.

“T-thanks.” You look back down, your heart racing. Your breaths stutter, eyes trained on your handwriting. Did he do it on purpose? Why would he? It’s not like he likes you, right?

Does he like you???

Oh god. Oh GOD. If that’s true, even if there’s the slightest possibility…

You bite your lip, considering your options. You already know you like him way more than you’re supposed to, plus you’ve already kissed. If it counted as your first kiss, that is.

What if he’s treating you as a friend, and you’re the one overthinking every touch and every word? What if he’s acting normal, and you’re the one that’s jumping to all these conclusions?

You take your calculator, trying to calm yourself down by typing in an equation to show Danny the difference in years and how fast the rate of increased red blood cells can be instead of dwelling on such thoughts.

But what if it’s true? What if he does like you? Like, like you, like you. What if he feels the same way you do? Would he say something? What if he’s waiting for you to say something? What if he wants to talk about the kiss?

You’re interrupted from your overthinking (which is incredibly rude, but you’d let it slide since it’s Danny.)

“So… I was wondering. Do you maybe wanna catch a movie this weekend?”

“Sounds good,” You hum, frowning at your calculator when you realize you’ve made a mistake, “What time do we meet Sam and Tucker?” You ask, scribbling down the right answer after correcting the equation.

“About that….I was thinking maybe Sam and Tucker wouldn’t be there. It’d just be you and me.”

Your breath gets caught in your throat, looking up in surprise. His eyes are hopeful, a shy blush dusting his cheeks as he waits for your response. “Sure.” You agree, looking back down at your notebook in an attempt to hide the radiant smile on your lips that you can’t seem to wipe off your face.

You hear him breathe a sigh of relief, a fluttery feeling in your stomach as you sneak a look at him. His cute smile makes your heart skip a beat, and when he catches your eyes, he grins. You clear your throat, averting your eyes with a flustered heat spreading across your cheeks.

Your mind is blank, filled with a single euphoric thought.

HelikesmeohmygodHeLikesMeOHMYGODHELIKESME-

#danny phantom x reader #danny phantom x y/n #danny phantom x you #danny phantom #danny fenton x reader #danny fenton x you #danny fenton x y/n

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liillyliilly · 3 months

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Max It Out

semi eita x reader words; 7101 + bonus content bc i love this AU synopsis; Band AU. She's the manager. As it turns out, he wants her as more than just the band manager.

“You gotta amp the bass up,” Semi called out.

You just rolled your eyes at him again. There was only so much more you could ‘amp’ his bass up. You couldn’t fix something that just wasn’t broken.

“I think you gotta fix your play style instead. I can make the bass louder, but then the main guitar line would have to be shrunk. Unless you want fizzing during your set.” You shrugged. He really couldn’t manage this gig without you.

It was hard to believe that earlier that day, you and he sat opposite in the paralegal office. Some civil service job, getting assigned to share an office with Semi Eita.

Arrogant, egotistical, damningly attractive. You wanted to wear his clothes and be his prized possession.

“Pass the stapler.” Your stapler, he had been working here for five months and still hadn’t bought his stapler yet. To be fair, it was a genuinely good stapler that you had shipped in from your aunt who lived in Germany.

You opened the drawer under your desk, grabbed the stapler, and then handed it to Semi under your computer.

He peeked under the computers, smiling at you. “Thanks, sweetie.”

“We aren’t in a work marriage anymore. I divorced you.”

“I never signed the papers darling.”

How could he always do that? Make you smile? It was unfair.

Sure, you always ate lunch together. Sure, he always packed an extra set of tissues when you went to the movies because he knew you cried easily. Sure, he gave you his leather jacket during winter on the walks from the hauling truck to the clubs.

But you had divorced this man weeks ago. Work marriage of course. He was just too clingy for you.

There of course had to be another layer to this dynamic between the two of you. The whole band manager thing.

You were nineteen and completely in love with Konoha Akinori. Which was why Semi invited you to help them with gigging the band out.

You had known of Semi, but only really got to know him in college. His center of gravity was alluring, to say the least. You were friends with Konoha first, attending high school together. Konoha was the one who invited you to your first real college party. Except it wasn’t even really a party.

It was five guys smoking, listening to music, and messing with instruments.

When you enter the apartment, Beach Weather’s “Sex, Drugs, Etc.” was lulling in the background.

Semi was lying back on a beanbag, strumming his bass guitar gently. Two boys in the opposite corner were blowing puffs of smoke into each other’s mouths, between what looked like extremely wet kisses.

“Issei, Hiro, do you have to do that here?” Futakuchi Kenji, a fellow class member of your advertising supplemental class, was faking being sick. He had drumsticks and was hitting an empty container of fried chicken.

“You can join in whenever you want Jiji.” The pink-haired one smiled, using his head to motion Futakuchi to join them on the sofa.

“Issei’s breath reeks of mango.”

The one with short cropped black hair, wearing a One Piece shirt spoke up, “Mango-licious. That’s the exact flavor, there’s some strawberry in the pod as well.”

The one referred to as Hiro shoved the one called Issei off the sofa. “Song’s over.” Issei just shrugged, taking another hit from his blue e-cigarette.

Konoha explained that Matsukawa Issei and Hanamaki Takahiro had been best friends for essentially their whole lives and that there were a select few songs that they just always made out to. He said he just got used to it, and that you should too.

You decide to make conversation, “So how do you all know each other?”

Semi chimed in, “Konoha and I used to work together at a tutoring place. Before he ditched it to deal drugs.”

Konoha worked in a pharmacy.

“You worked at a tutoring place,” Shock was evident in your tone of voice.

“It’s not hard to help seven-year-olds with their math homework.” Semi continued, “I know Issei and Hiro from competing in the same volleyball circuit in high school. I don’t know when Kenji got here though.”

“Ass.” Futakuchi rolled his eyes, “I joined this shoddy group of friends when we were all struggling to pass the intro math course. And when I found out we were all decent at music.”

Your raised eyebrow at the music comment made Semi smirk.

“If we play for you, you gotta join our cult.” He minced no words.

Konoha assured you that it wasn’t actually a cult, but it did feel like one.

When Matsukawa had finished hooking up all the proper chords to an outlet machine, Konoha had shoved some bean bags out of the way, and Hanamaki downed several glasses of water, you realized that they were good at music.

The song they played was “Lavender Sunflower” by Tory Lanez. When you asked why they would play a song from someone who was in jail, Semi just said you should separate the art from the artist. Futakuchi said it was because Hanamaki liked to say the word ‘sexify’.

They did a few more covers, ranging from Steve Lacy to Cautious Clay.

You gave them a round of applause when Matsukawa slid his fingers across his keyboard to end their mini-concert.

“I meant it. You’re in our cult now.” Semi had come up from behind you, speaking into your ear and resting his hands on your shoulders. The shiver down your spine didn’t go unnoticed by you or Semi.

Electric Guest; the five young adult boys turned into a decently popular alternative indie band. Semi Eita, on the bass. Konoha Akinori, on the guitar. Matsukawa Issei on keyboard. Hanamaki Takahiro, on primary vocals and autotuning. Futakuchi Kenji on drums. Plus you, the mastermind behind it all. Kind of.

All you did was everything else besides play music.

The first time they played at the Battle of the Bands, you sweat so much that your white shirt was permanently stained in the pits. At least they won the prize money, just enough for a team dinner, entrance fees to the next competition and a new shirt for you.

It was a learning curve for you, learning the lighting, the sound management, and the coordination of schedules as you all got busier. Making a Google calendar helped as the years went on.

The whole band thing became so lucrative that all of you could’ve quit your day jobs and been perfectly comfortable, but Futakuchi claimed that the band was never supposed to be their whole lives. Just a part of them. So, in addition to your band manager role, you also ran the charity on the side.

A cross between cancer research, volleyball advocacy, and music education. The holy trinity of causes Matsukawa claimed.

Electric Guest was never supposed to be the reason for you to stay friends with people from high school, and college. But that was how it ended up. Just a group of boys with their girl on weekend nights playing live music.

Initially a cover band, but it turned into original works.

Semi was always a little too clever to just play others' words. “This Head I Hold”, Semi’s first song that he had written had charted on the IONIC Alternative chart in the Top 100 for seven weeks straight, never falling below the top seventy.

Was he humble about this feat? No.

But did he sheepishly make a toast to how your marketing carried the song to where it was? Yes. So it leveled out in your mind for him to be prideful of his music, of their music.

“Amp it up.” Semi stomped his feet again.

Konoha shoved Semi’s arm. “She just said that she couldn’t do that. Do you just have selective hearing for praise? Maybe she should throw in her opinion on your ass in those jeans between the clarification of why increasing the amp would be bad?”

“Screw you, Aki.”

“Meet me in the bathroom in five?” You could practically see the way Konoha’s eyebrows raised in a jokingly seductive way.

“Semi, I could try to reduce the vocals slightly. I just don’t know why you want your bass to be so highlighted tonight?”

Semi just waved his hand in the air, brushing away your comments.

Rolling your eyes, you sipped on your water, reviewing the setlist for tonight.

“Hey, I thought we cut “Get Out” for tonight? And we never play it as the last song?” You did a double take at the setlist, Semi had scribbled the song in right after their typical closer of “Basic- Acoustic Version”

Hanamaki slid into your booth, downing his demon juice, a mixture of Redbull, Monster, and a shot of tequila. He grimaced, then shook his face, smiling at you.

“Semi-Semi has a surprise for tonight, it’s supposed to knock your socks off.”

“I do like a good “Get Out” moment.” You mused.

“A little more than just a good moment supposedly.”

Hanamaki was always one of the guys from your friend group who could manage to make anything sound more important than it was. He was the lead singer after all. You’d be lying if you hadn’t thought about the way some very specific words would sound coming from him to you.

That was another element to this Electric Guest thing, the touch aspect. Once they had integrated you into the friend circle, they became your humans. Your people. You all began to function as a single unit. Where one goes, the rest follow.

The Twitter comments on official posts did love to get a little explicit when they posed theories about how all five of you were in a polyamorous relationship.

That time you and Matsukawa got seen with your hands in his hair and his hands on your ass created a good portion of those theories, especially since Matsukawa still openly liked to lick Hanamaki’s neck between songs.

The touching thing just became second nature, to be close to each other was to be genuine.

Futakuchi threw a plastic water bottle at Hanamaki, “You drunkard, come set up your autotune before you’re too far gone. Please chew some gum before you start singing too, your breath reeks on that stuff.” Futakuchi was referencing the aforementioned demon juice.

Semi had started working at the same place you were working after he had aced his civil servant exam with flying colors.

He had gotten bored of lazing at his shared apartment with Futakuchi for entire days on end. He claimed to need social and mental stimulation. You thought it was because he just wanted to have another reason to get to know you better, which was also true.

Semi was strange when it came to you, freezing up in touch before easing into it. Sometimes you and him could just sit in your apartment for hours on end talking about the band, movies, the best hangover food.

He just understood you on an unparalleled level.

You were all friends, of course, Issei, Hiro, Jiji, Akinori, Eita, and you. But you clicked on what felt like a multidimensional plane with Semi Eita.

He knew what you would say before you said it. He always managed to mitigate your problems with simple, clear solutions.

He also always looked a little too deep into your eyes. You felt like he was inspecting your innermost self when he locked his eyes on you.

No judgment, just assessment. No confusion, just curiosity.

“We can always carpool you know,” He swung his keys on his finger as he walked you to the bus stop, “Save you an hour in commuting.”

“As appealing as that is, I wouldn’t be able to do my share of driving, you know, due to the whole, I don’t have a car thing.” Grateful, you rubbed his shoulder in thanks.

“When I say carpool I mean, I’ll drive and you be my live-in car DJ.”

“Am I being used for my amazing playlists?”

“I love using you.”

So you began to carpool. He would pick you up at your apartment 30 minutes before work started, and then you would sit in the parking lot together for 10 minutes listening to your new underground finds before clocking in.

Semi was a great co-worker, truly. He just always used your stuff and spent way too much time going through your computer search history when you took a break.

“I swear I was going to find some kind of band groupie orgy porn on here this time.” He scoffed when you began shaking your office chair with him still sitting in it.

“At work? You’re kidding me”

“Maybe it was just for future reference,” He licked his lips, looking up at you. “You know, for tonight.”

“You’re revolting.”

“You’re an angel.” He reached a hand up and tugged on the front of your shirt, pulling you down to him.

“You make me sick.” You tried to escape his grasp without damaging your new button-up.

“Lovesick.”

There were only a few more hours to go before their show tonight. You had taken several photos of your boys preparing for the show, posting them on all the social media sites.

Using captions such as, ‘ETA: When Semi Eita gets around to it.’

‘Matsukawa’s forgotten mango vape pod.’ (You thought that one was funny because the vape pod was shown to be almost negatively drained more than it could go, he had sucked all the Mango-licious nicotine out of that poor vape pod)

‘Real or fake? I guess we’ll never know’ Attached to a shot of Hanamaki looking at himself in the mirror, moving small hairs around. The fan-favorite think piece was about his hair, genetically strawberry blond or just dyed.

‘Jiji on that beat’ Futakuchi’s head resting in his hands, his knees bouncing up and down in a short video clip. He always got anxious before shows, despite being one of the relatively more popular members of Electric Guest.

‘Akinori’s Asshole Agenda, task one: hide all the free promotional stickers’ Your box of stickers was shown to be empty, but you had another one in the hauling truck that you would go and grab in a few minutes. The ushers at the clubs helped hand the stickers out when getting people into the building.

Futakuchi called you over to the stage. You put your phone back into your pocket and meandered over to where he was inspecting his drum kit.

“The skin on my drum is getting too thin.” Futakuchi traced a white line that stuck onto the kick drum.

“What do you want me to do?”

He pulled out a fresh skin from his satchel. “Help me reskin this bad boy please.”

“It’s not real animal skin yeah? Just synthetic?”

“Yeah, it should go on fairly easily, I need to polish my cymbals.”

You tilted your head in slight anger. He was going to make you reskin his drum?

Semi had finished messing with his bass settings, resting his instrument on the large case he had brought out to the stage.

“Lemme do it.”

“I can re-skin it, it’s fine, Eita.”

He took the material from your hands, “Let me skin the stupid drum.”

You nodded, swallowing thickly. That tone of voice subtly said, “Don’t test me” and overtly said, “I want to do this for you.”

You let him reskin Futakuchi’s stupid drum.

Joining Electric Guest was one of the best decisions in your life, and you owed it all to Konoha Akinori for bringing you to that ‘college party’. Semi liked to argue that he was the one to thank for getting you involved, but Konoha always pulled up the text receipts of him asking you to officially be a part of the band.

All your firsts had been with Konoha. First kiss, first boyfriend, first hickey.

A high school crush that turned into a decently long relationship at the beginning of university. Konoha was a great boyfriend, dates were amazing, and he was the one who introduced you to all of his friends, who became your friends as well. He was the one who took care of you when you were sick.

He was the one who cried with you when your cousin died.

You truly loved him. But the piece in your heart for him and the piece in his heart for you just didn’t fit together once you hit 20 years old. It was an amicable break-up, but it still hurt.

Best friends with a rich past was how you defined your relationship with Konoha.

Semi was getting increasingly anxious about the fallout when Konoha and you broke up. That’s how it made the most sense to you anyway.

Why else would he have punched Konoha? The fate of the band was at risk.

Semi would’ve rather died than admit why he had to physically express his anger. Screw the band in that moment, what about you? Were you doing alright?

They hadn’t told you about the punch until nearly a year later when you were all either high or sleep-deprived in your apartment, celebrating another competition win.

What they hadn’t told you was louder than what they did tell you about that night, three days after your break-up with Konoha.

Matsukawa had to hold Konoha back, and Hanamaki along with Futakuchi pulled Semi back from throwing another punch. Konoha’s lip was cut and bleeding, so he spat the blood on the floor of the recording studio.

You just sat in the beanbag in the mixing office, none the wiser, headphones on, clicking away at audio files to make promotions.

The night of the breakup, you called Semi and had him at your apartment. It was raining that night. When he arrived at your place, he was soaked through. You asked about it since a short walk from the road to your place wouldn’t have yielded such a damp appearance.

As it turned out, his car had run out of gas, so he took Futakuchi’s moped. When you wrapped him in a towel and gave him tea, he complained that he should be the one soothing you.

That comment triggered you to start bawling. What if it was all a mistake to break up with Konoha? Maybe he was your best option. Semi said that Konoha wasn’t worth shit compared to other guys out there for you.

You told him that that was cruel to say. Semi tried to backtrack, explaining that maybe better options were still around for you. When you just kept talking about how much you loved Konoha, Semi stopped trying to fight the idea of Konoha and focused solely on comforting you and assuring you of your decision.

Two days later, after Semi witnessed your shattered state, the punch occurred during band practice. He saw Konoha’s phone screen saver was still Konoha and you kissing.

“You asshole, she was crying!”

“I already told you Eita, it was an agreed upon break up!”

“The bruise on her neck then? Explain that you dick!” Semi snarled. Hanamaki was shaking in his Doc Martens, but Futakuchi just kicked Hanamaki and told him to keep holding Semi back.

“The bruise? You mean the HICKEY?” Konoha wasn’t mad anymore, just annoyed, “You know sometimes when people break up they have break-up sex. It’s in the name, you oblivious coward.”

Matsukawa finally let Konoha go. Konoha just rubbed his arms where Matsukawa had grabbed him. Konoha had come to several realizations when he had talked to you about breaking up.

Kissing hadn’t felt right for some time, and you both hardly ever tried to be romantic in any sense. Instead choosing to send memes to each other and joking around. It was being best friends under the label of a relationship.

You agreed to split, letting both of you let go of your long-winded high school crushes.

“Coward? You’re calling me a coward? Breaking up with the best girl in your entire life wasn’t a cowardly thing to do then?” Semi was panting, arms shaking, but he was still kicking his feet.

Konoha knew Semi would throw a fit. So he decided to say what everyone else in the friend group wanted to say.

“You love her more than I do,” Konoha sat down, legs sprawled on the floor. He told Hanamaki and Futakuchi to let Semi go. “Did you know that? You love her more than I do. Which is utterly baffling to me because I love her with my entire heart.”

Semi stood for a moment, a slight sway from all the tension in his high-strung body. Semi crouched down before laying on the floor. Looking at the ceiling, he pressed his lips into a tight line.

Hanamaki, Futakuchi, and Matsukawa had left the band space, choosing to let the two friends talk out whatever they needed to.

They too knew that this conversation needed to occur, primarily for Semi.

Semi sniffles then laughs. A genuine laugh. “I guess I am a coward.”

“Damn straight.” Konoha continued, “I always thought you’d get to her before me. Not sexually, or anything like that. But in terms of love. You know? You just always had her first thing in mind. Whereas I, well, I never cheated and I never considered it either, but I always wondered if I was the right person for her.”

“You think that person is me?” Semi scoffed. “I can hardly call myself an adult compared to you.”

“I know right.” Semi kicked Konoha with his outstretched leg.

“You gotta tell her, or else someone will take her from you. Not everyone can see you’re the best person for her. Hell, even I had a mental breakdown when I realized it.”

“So you’re saying-”

“I don’t want your bullshit, Eita, I want you to tell her.”

“I can’t.”

Konoha told him that he’d be stuck then. So, stuck Semi became.

It was almost an hour before opening the doors to the long line outside Club Karazaki.

You still needed to help the boys with their hair. So you grabbed your comb from your bag and made your way backstage.

“Hairstylist in the house, I take 50s and 100s only.” You patted your jeans’ back pocket, “I need a new phone so this is how y’all will contribute.”

After finishing Matsukawa’s quick retouch on his taper, you took the fiver he handed you.

“You know, I think tonight is going to be one of our best performances.” Matsukawa lifted his mango vape to you, you declined it, and he took another hit. “Semi outdid himself for tonight.”

“Ya’ll overhype that man.”

“Nah, we hype him just enough.” Matsukawa held your hand, “You ever get another date with that dude from a week ago?”

You shook your head, explaining how it just didn’t feel right. Lately, your romantic exploits had all crashed and burned quicker than Semi could begin a riff.

Several of the adventures in romance had ended with an upset Semi, which in turn made you upset. The most recent ‘discussion’ between the two of you had occurred just a week before tonight, about the same guy Matsukawa had brought up.

The band left Semi and you in your apartment, and you offered to let him crash on your futon. Futakuchi refused to let a drunk Semi back into their apartment. Claiming that he would puke all over the new rug he bought.

“I just don’t get you.” He was tugging on his sweatpants’ drawstring and lying on your couch. His shirt had ridden up to his mid-stomach, showing off a trail of dark blond hair that snuck under his sweatpants.

“What don’t you get.” You sat on the end of your couch, freshly showered. He put his feet in your lap. You obliged, scrolling through channels on your TV.

He smelled like the expensive wine your label had dropped off to celebrate a bronze ranking on the new album. You asked how much he had drunk, only now realizing his whole face was flushed. He mumbled, so you lifted the bottle, only to find it completely empty.

“You’ll get alcohol poisoning from doing this.” It was only a mini-sized bottle, but it was expensive and aged perfectly.

“Better than how I’m living now.” He took off his shirt, too warm to continue with the material on him.

He didn’t quite have abs, but he was strong. Broad, tan, and wide. The difference between Konoha’s so-called, “slutty waist” and Semi’s toned torso was striking.

You clarified that he actually wouldn’t even be living if he got serious alcohol poisoning.

“That dude,” You said your one-off date’s name, “Yeah him, he looked like my doppelganger don’t you think?”

He did look a lot like Semi.

At the same time you both added the addendum that his fashion was way worse than Semi’s. Semi just laughed, not even a laugh, he giggled. A 22-year-old child, giggling about how you were insulting your date. Shirtless, drunk, and now rubbing your back.

He had shifted, laying his back on the back of the couch, lightly kicking you so you would sit on the floor in front of him.

His hands were warm, due to the alcohol flowing through his veins. When he dug his thumb between your spine and shoulder blade you moaned. He asked if you felt good, and you nodded.

You didn��t expect him to slide your shirt up, your bare back exposed to the cold air of your apartment. In no time, his hands were soothing down the goosebumps.

“Make your little noise again.”

“Hm?” You turned your head to Semi.

“I want you to moan again.”

Your eyes widened. There was no teasing this time, he was dead serious.

Something was definitely wrong with your best friend, especially when he started to kiss your shoulders, moving to your jawline, attempting to move his lips wherever he could reach. He had slid down the couch, using his hands to pull your back against his chest. Skin on skin.

Your shirt was still bunched up at the back of your neck, but with the way that Semi was slowly sliding hands over your stomach, he had a plan to remove the purple sleep shirt. His maneuvers were snake-like. His intermittent hisses were reactions to your scent, your warmth, and the way your skin tasted on his tongue.

When he cupped your chest with one hand and had the other hand in your hair, you had to stop him. Quickly you stood up, and he cussed at the loss of touch.

“Eita, I think you need to sleep.” You tugged him up from the floor, and he just kept cursing. Incoherently, no rhyme or reason for what he was so mad about. You could hardly understand many of the words, a few distinct ones hit your eardrums: Konoha, coward, sex, music, the band. The most frequent word was your name.

You let him sit on the floor, going to grab a glass of water for him. When you reached into your fridge for a Gatorade as well, Semi was standing at the entrance to the kitchen. Brown eyes just watching you.

“One kiss.” He clearly stated.

You laughed, but he only got irritated.

“I’m serious. Just one.” He reaffirmed.

“You’re drunk. I’ll say it twice, Eita. You’re drunk.”

“I’m a better kisser when I’m drunk.”

“I don’t doubt that.”

You handed him the water. He downed it. You handed him the Gatorade. He sipped it. He probably had a reason for asking.

“Is it for a song?” You touched the bottom of the Gatorade bottle, lifting it closer to his mouth so he would take another drink. Semi angrily rolled his eyes, why would that be his only reason for asking to kiss you?

“If I say yes will you kiss me.”

You shook your head no. He was clearly inebriated. You didn’t know how he would feel about this in the morning, and you knew the alcohol was altering him.

It had been two years since you broke up with Konoha. You had promised that you wouldn’t date another member of your friend group. It just wouldn’t work. Plus with the new label intervention as well, they tried to subtly say that dating within the band could cause some scandals.

But they were an alternative indie band, so the label let a lot of the little things go.

But openly dating? Ruining the image of attainability? They just told everyone to keep relationships to a minimum, and if they did want to date, then you should be off limits.

Semi had never seemed more pissed at a formal organization, he ranted to you about how as soon as the three-year contract was up that Electric Guest should go back to being entirely independent.

You agreed, for the most part, just letting him consider how much easier it was for him to get creative licensing protection on his songs. He just said that working at the paralegal office would be enough skill to get legal protection on the music.

Semi cleaned up the Gatorade, tossing it into the trash can. You found yourself in a corner, the sink to your right, and the fridge to your left, Semi in all other directions.

Never had you seen his eyes so blown out. Not even after one of the longer smoke sessions, Matsukawa liked to cook up.

“If you can tell me you don’t love me then I’ll let it go.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, “Eita, what? Of course, I love you. What are you talking about?”

“If you can tell me you haven’t thought about me when you were touching yourself. If you can tell me that you haven’t thought about my lips on you. If you can tell me that you never considered me as an option. If you can say that then I’ll drop it. Otherwise, please let me kiss you.” You paused your breathing. He looked at you. “And don’t use my blood alcohol content as an excuse.”

“I need a minute.” You gently pushed your hand on his bicep.

“I have time.”

You glanced at the microwave clock.

1:28 AM.

He started kissing you at 1:29 AM.

You didn’t stop him.

It was slow at first, gentle even. He started at your neck. Biding time before he got to where he wanted to go. He nipped along your jaw. Your hands were resting on his chest, your breath baited.

When he picked you up and sat you on the counter, you knew you were a goner.

He guided your hands to his hair, his shoulders, and his hips, telling you to just touch him and not stop. He gave himself 15 minutes. You didn’t know this, but he was only using 15 minutes. From 1:29 AM to 1:44 AM.

When he starts to rub his hips against yours, you wish you could’ve stayed like this for hours. You could feel the outline of his body through the sweatpants, and each time you made another sound, his hips just stilted before rubbing again with more pressure.

His first lip-to-lip kiss with you was dry. He just pressed your lips together. He paused, just letting the touch process in his mind. When you pressed back, he smiled into the kiss.

He could immortalize the kiss later, he still had 7 minutes left.

He wanted to reach his hand down into the front of your pants but knew you would draw the line there. His alcohol solution became the one barrier he wished he didn’t have at the moment. Especially when he could feel the way your thighs were shaking slightly, anticipation was a bitch.

He gently, lightly, wrapped one hand around your neck. The other hand was under your shirt doing things you couldn’t quite make sense of because his tongue was in your mouth. His thumb was distinctly writing the letters of his name over your nipples.

When the clock turned to 1:40 AM, he turned ravenous. He pressed his lips everywhere on your face, forehead, nose, chin. Dry turned to wet, and he knew you were covered in his saliva. You groaned slightly when he gave in and cupped the front of your shorts. Before he removed his hand in favor of just grinding against you again.

He was panting when the clock finally ticked to 1:44 AM. Semi tucked his head into the nook between your shoulder and neck. His arms under your shirt hugged you tighter, making you feel like a boa constrictor was attempting to cut off your oxygen supply.

“I’m tired.” You ran a hand through his hair. Telling him to let you go so you could get his futon. He shook his head, pieces of hair tickling you. He wasn’t tired physically, he was tired mentally. To hold back from someone you were magnetized to, spent all his energy. Until his willpower to fight the pull force was just entirely gone.

“Second door on the left?” He spoke right into your skin. If he had gotten this far, one last ditch attempt to feel all of you might just be his lucky opportunity. The second door on the left was your bedroom.

You nodded.

In the morning, you woke up to Semi tracing shapes on your thigh that was laid across his stomach.

He spoke first.

“We can talk about it after the show at Karazaki.” He had begun running his hand on your head, starting at the top of your head before sliding down to your nape. He repeated the soothing caress so many times you lost count.

“Ok.”

The doors finally shut, and all the people at Club Karazaki were finally ready to be blessed with the music from none other than Electric Guest.

The two-hour show went off without a hitch.

Konoha’s guitar solo got the most bras thrown at him. Futakuchi’s reverb of Arctic Monkeys’ “Knee Socks” had the most phones recording him, his drum set and single verse got more viral video and editing clips than you would know how to manage. Matsukawa and Hanamaki’s duet singing “Oh Devil” from the new album almost made you scream for them too.

It was finally time to close off the show, with Semi’s addition of “Get Out”. You couldn’t help but get thrilled at the idea of hearing your favorite song one more time before he planned to officially cut it from the setlist.

Instead of Hanamaki, Semi cleared his throat, thanking the audience for their time, and that the last song was going to be a crowd favorite.

Hanamaki stepped back. Now, the main singer of a band did not just simply step back and out of the primary light. You fidgeted with the system, getting equal lighting on everyone. The red slow strobe was always a good default, especially since you had no idea what was going on.

“I’ll max it out one time for you.” Semi sang.

This wasn’t the revised ending song. It wasn’t even “Get Out”, the song you had believed to be Semi’s bonus on the setlist. You clicked into your headphones, trying to contact Konoha. Radio silence on your end. Standing up in the back of the club, you waved your arms rapidly. Trying to get Semi’s attention.

What the hell was he doing?

“You should never worry, you’ve been here a long time.” His bass guitar was strumming to the beat of your pulse, just fast enough to keep you alive, but steadily increasing in speed. Matsukawa’s keyboard was playing perfectly in tune. So at least you knew they had practiced this song before.

Maybe more than one practice though, because the flow of the music was just too smooth. You sit back down, and instead of leaving the blaring red strobe lights, you cool it down. A light blue focal light on Semi, with grays and whites on the other band members.

It matched with the RnB edge this song had.

“Now you’re in a hurry. Feels like a long way home.”

He moved up more, tugging on the chord connecting his guitar. He stood in the center of the stage.

His vocals were stunning. Usually, it was Hanamaki singing, with Semi doing the backing vocals. But this was all Semi’s scratchy, deep, resounding, pleading voice. He sang like he was begging for a lifeline.

“You’re just the light I follow.” He wasn’t closing his eyes, he was looking straight at you. You looked behind yourself, only seeing the black wall. You checked in front of you to see if any girls you were familiar with were standing in front of your systems booth. But no, the crowd was just packed with dedicated fanboys and fangirls tonight.

“Right now you just can’t see. I’ll feel the same tomorrow. ‘Cause a good thing is falling on me.”

So this is what all your boys had been talking about. Semi’s special show.

“I’ll max it out one time.”

What a nerd.

“And I know they go on and on and on, I know you’re growing tired of me.”

You’d never get tired of him. And somehow you knew that he knew that.

“And even when you're nervous, or you’re feeling out of order”

Hanamaki had joined in, singing the backing lyrics at this point. Semi just kept looking at you.

“I’m somewhere right next to you, singing you the chorus.”

He’d always been clingy.

“I’ll max it out one time for you, ‘Cause I know it’s overdue.”

Hell yeah, it was overdue.

“So, I raise my glass to you.”

He raises his bottle of water.

An uncontrollable smile erupts over his face. The crowd is in shambles. People were screaming, some were off in a tucked away corner kissing, and someone was getting pulled off the gate to the stage by security.

He doesn’t sing anymore. He mouths the words to just you.

“I love you.”

So there they were, Electric Guest. Sitting in a run-down 24/7 diner laughing and throwing fries at each other.

So there they were; Semi and you. He had his arms around you, chin resting on your shoulder, joking about the time Konoha had spilled his weird mixture of mayo and ketchup all over a borrowed white shirt.

Hanamaki and Matsukawa were pinching each other under the table.

Futakuchi and Konoha were arguing about who got more tagged posts on Instagram.

“I think we should adopt a baby or something.” Hanamaki waved Matsukawa’s vape in the air.

“You would be arrested in like two seconds. You can barely function as a human being Hiro.” Futakuchi ate another fry, starting to list off all the reasons Hanamaki would make a horrible parent figure. Matsukawa kept trying to get another hit from his vape, but Hanamaki just kept waving it around.

You turned to face Semi, but he was already looking at you.

“Max It Out?” You brought up the title of his Not Confession, confession song.

“I wanted to title it your name, but no, that would be too on the nose for some people.” Semi glared at Konoha.

Konoha shrugged, “Eita, you always go on and on about increasing your bass, I thought that ‘Max It Out’ would just click better with the average audience. You know, the same audience who wasn’t exactly there to witness you groping on our friend here last week.” Konoha patted your thigh.

Futakuchi dropped his fry. Complaining that he was always the last one to know what was going on with his friends.

“I wouldn’t call it groping, maybe loving, but not groping.”

“That could be a good lyric for our next song,” Matsukawa brought his hands up to motion them in a rainbow shape, presenting an idea, “we could call it, ‘I Had Sex With My Best Friend Who I Pined After Since I Was Nineteen, I Also Passionately Care About Her And Ended Up Punching Her Ex-Boyfriend Who Is Also My Other Best Friend’ I think that has a real ring to it for a song title.”

Semi rolled his eyes, “Not looking like that title would fit with the rest of our catalog.”

You consoled Matsukawa by handing him back the fiver he gave you for trimming his hair.

Futakuchi, still upset at not knowing about you and Semi’s incident, posed a question, “Well if Aki, Eita, and I have all kissed you, where does that leave Issei and Hiro?”

Semi’s mouth dropped open, “When did that happen?”

“Our kiss? Uh, I can’t remember. But we did.”

You shrugged, it wasn’t your best moment. But Futakuchi had been a very good kisser. “After advertising class ended. I was having a moment about where my life was going.”

“I still think you’re the prettiest girl I’ve kissed so far.”

Semi groans. “This is so unfair. I waited over four years, but Jiji and Aki got to kiss you before me?”

“Slow your roll Eita, if we keep this up, maybe we will end up in a polyamorous relationship.” Hanamaki analyzed, and you knew all about his thoughts about that situation occurring. He had told you several times that if a six-person relationship did exist, then it still wouldn't be as amazing as the dynamics between all of you.

“No more kissing other people,” Semi rubbed your elbow, “You’re stuck to me now. Might as well stay with the one with the best dick.”

You nodded. Semi grinned, waiting expectantly.

“This is the part where you start listing off other good qualities about me.”

“Nope, I think you listed them all.”

Konoha stuck his tongue out and mocked Semi’s claims about genitalia.

After a copious amount of french fries, and enough jokes about everything that had happened the last few years, Semi and you walked hand in hand to his car.

“I got a new bass booster in my car.”

“Why exactly?” You buckled yourself, before reaching over and buckling Semi in as well.

“So I can blast our favorite songs while making you scream.”

There he was, your flirting, egotistical, arrogant, loving best friend. You nixed the best friend part in your head, writing ‘soulmate’ in place.

“Also, can you rescind the whole work-husband divorce claims?” He rested his hand on the back of your seat while backing up his car. Flexing his arm on purpose.

“Sure, there’s a few things you’ll have to do before I officially call you husband again.” You listed off chores, errands, and body parts.

Semi licked his lips, “I can do that.”

---

BONUS:

Playlist for all the music nerds out there: (aka my headcanon of 'Electric Guest's Latest Album)

"Max It Out" - Electric Guest --- The main song from this fic, Semi's confession fic. It was not the only confession song he wrote though. One day, all the lyrics he wrote became less about teenagerhood and fun and genuinely about love.

"Get Out" -Electric Guest --- Our main character's favorite song, it's about exceptionalism. If you can't handle the heat, don't play in the arena. Also about gambling and not going back to toxic people. MC is an icon for sure for having this as her favorite song (Max It Out is her actual favorite, but would rather die than tell Semi)

"This Head I Hold" - Electric Guest --- Matsukawa's favorite, he gets to start the song off with his keyboard. Also Matsukawa's favorite because it's about getting high. The druggie energy is strong with him.

"That's What Happens" -Kid Bloom --- An unreleased Semi song, depression hit him hard when he and Konoha had their heart-to-heart. He kept it locked away until this very specific album release. When he went into detail telling our main character about why he wrote the song, she had to wipe tears from the corners of Semi's eyes, give him love please.

"Window Pane (Pretty Little Thing)" - GSoul --- Hanamaki's favorite song off their newest album, mostly because he helped to write the lyrics, but he'll still love to sing "Lavender Sunflower" because no words sung will ever top "sexify" for him.

"Hold Me" - Hojean --- Futakuchi's favorite song from the new album because the drums are the most heavily featured at the core. And because the autotune is heavy enough to let him pretend Hanamaki isn't the one singing.

"Wake" - Jiwoo --- When Semi wrote this one, Konoha had spent hours trying to figure out who it was about. To Konoha's shock it was about his ex-girlfriend turned into lifelong best friend. Konoha almost got revenge by punching Semi and telling him that it had already been two years, and that someone would make a move soon. Semi then explained his idea for his confession. Konoha realized his friend may be an actual genius.

"Oh Devil" - Electric Guest --- Konoha's favorite song off the new album, he spent the most time in the recording studio practicing this one, he even picked up some additional instruments to help produce it to its highest potential.

"Basic" - Electric Guest --- Semi's hate-piece to the label and to other bands who had been calling out Electric Guest's unconventional style choices. The label thought this one would be the least streamed, jokes on them because it got TikTok famous (courtesy of Semi's newly shown off girlfriend making hot edits for each of the band members)

"Charismatic" - Hailey Knox --- Hanamaki's only duet with a woman. The singer loved what they were doing, and asked to be the main vocal on a b-side song. When all was said and done, Hanamaki and Matsukawa finally had another person to blow smoke with when listening to "Sex, Drugs, Etc."

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