#aya being dramatic

[in-class-daydreams]

Dress Code

Pairing: Auror!Sebastian Sallow x Unspeakable!Fem!Reader (no Y/N) Synopsis. Basically a girlboss married to Sebastian simulator. You and Sebastian received a call from your daughter's school and neither of your are happy about it. On the plus side, Sebastian so loves watching your protective side come out. A/N: I churned this out in one sitting, no I didn't proofread. Also I'm not British so suspend your disbelief if you find inaccuracies about the school system. TW: Sexualization of a minor (alluded to)

The clacking of Sebastian’s dress shoes echoed off the walls of the empty corridor. He listened carefully. All was quiet. Good. His wife hadn’t arrived yet.

He tugged at his dark green tie to loosen it. Despite how sharp he looked in his black three-piece suit with a chain and cape over one shoulder, had he not been at work at the Ministry of Magic when he received the owl, he wouldn't have dressed up for his daughter’s blasted school at all. Sebastian was counting the days before he could send his sweet Eliza to Hogwarts next year.

The Headmaster’s office was at the end of the hall. This school was much more dreary than Hogwarts to the point where it seemed like a prison. It wasn’t the first time he second-guessed his and his wife’s decision not to call in a favor to secure a Hogwarts enrollment early. His wife was worried having an auror and an Unspeakable as parents would make them insufferable if they overused their influence. Considering that their parenting wouldn’t reach as far as Hogwarts, Sebastian relented, even though he was hard-pressed to entrust his baby girl anywhere other than his alma mater.

Sebastian made to knock as he usually did, but remembered himself and rapped lightly on the door. His wife always chastised him for banging on doors like the law enforcement. He argued that it was a force of habit and she denied him kisses for two whole hours. Never again. The door opened to reveal a stout man a head shorter than Sebastian with a beard and tweed coat.

“Mr. Sallow!” The auror reluctantly shook the Headmaster’s hand. “It is an honor, sir. Would you like some tea, sir?”

Sebastian denied the tea, but exchanged half-assed pleasantries for the sake of his daughter, who was sitting in a stiff-backed chair against the wall. He kneeled to eye level in front of her.

“There you are, sweetheart,” he cooed, weak to her big brown eyes looking up at him.

“I’m sorry you got called from work, daddy.” Eliza looked teary. “I know you had important auror things today.”

His heart clenched. “There’s nothing in the magical world more important than you, darling.” He looked down in confusion. “Why are you wearing those?”

Instead of her plaid blue skirt Sebastian cried upon seeing the first time - first time fathers, right? - she had on loose, ratty gray trousers held up by a brown belt that looked even older than Sebastian himself.

When Eliza looked down in shame, he straightened up and addressed the Headmaster.

“Explain.”

The Headmaster straightened to his full height and placed his hands on his protruding stomach.

“Well, Mr. Sallow, your daughter has just received her third uniform violation in as many months. It is time we addressed it,” he said.

Sebastian raised a skeptical eyebrow. “What’s wrong with her uniform?”

Taking a sip of his tea, the Headmaster said, “It is much too short. Several of her teachers have made comments.”

“Ah.” Sebastian crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. “Then we’ll just have to wait.”

The Headmaster eyed him warily. “Whatever for, Mr. Sallow?” Typically, Sebastian would take full advantage of his height and aura to put the man in his place, but there was a much more fitting punishment on its way and much more severe.

“My wife will be here momentarily,” he said.

“What would you call your wife for?”

Sebastian rolled his eyes. “Because we’re a partnership. If you had to ask, I feel sorry for the poor woman that had to marry you.”

“Well, I never–!”

Their conversation was interrupted by a light knock on the door. Grabbing the handle, Sebastian cast the Headmaster a sideways look.

“Endeavor not to disrespect my wife. She is not the submissive housewife you seem to be imagining.”

He opened the door and in you strode, clad in an elegant dark green velvet pantsuit. Sebastian smiled to himself, happy that you let him convince you to match colors with him while buying work clothes. The way the slacks hugged your legs was just a bonus.

“Headmaster,” you said sharply, taking his hand. Then you turned and crouched in front of your daughter as Sebastian had.

“What’s going on, my love?” you asked. The two of you shared the same curve of your lips, but nothing more. Of course you’d carry a child for nine months only to have her pop out a splitting image of your husband.

The Headmaster cleared his throat. “Miss Sallow’s–”

“Hup-up-up,” you tutted, “I was speaking to my daughter. You’d do well not to interrupt.”

His face reddened at being spoken to in such a way, and by a woman, no less. Sebastian, on the other hand, was beside himself. His heart swelled with love the way it did when you first handed him his ass in a duel all those years ago.

“Go on, it’s alright,” you told her.

With some reluctance, Eliza replied, “My skirt is too short.”

You stiffened and momentarily met Sebastian’s gaze through the corner of your eye. “That’s nonsense, your father and I know the uniform regulations by heart.”

Eliza shook her head. “My teachers have said it’s distracting.”

“What’s distracting, love?”

“Me. My skirt.”

You wiped your hands on your slacks and cupped your daughter’s cheek. With a reassuring smile, you straightened and turned to Sebastian, who looked a mix of incensed and amused.

“Don’t overdo it,” he told you.

“Now’s as good a time as ever,” you argued.

“Don’t,” he urged. “Think of the paperwork.”

You cupped his face and planted a chaste kiss on his lips. Then he held out a hand towards Eliza.

“Come, now. Mum will take care of this,” he said.

Eliza eagerly hopped out of her chair and took her father’s hand. He led her out into the hallway and shut the door behind them.

“Is mother going to kill the Headmaster?” she asked innocently.

Sebastian laughed. “No, love, dead men can’t send a message.”

“What does that mean?”

Sebastian cringed and cupped his hands over her ears, as if that would somehow protect her. Hopefully you didn’t hear that.

“Never mind that. Mum will be out soon and we’ll go home and make dinner together,” he assured her.

“What about work?” Eliza asked.

“I have the feeling she and I will be taking a half-day.”

Inside the Headmaster’s office, you tapped a heeled foot. Hogwarts was quite the progressive school considering what was going on outside it in your time. Still, you were always caught by surprise when such archaic ways of thinking cropped up. Though you supposed this wasn’t the first upset of this nature and such indiscretions would continue long after you were gone.

You crossed your arms.

“My daughter’s skirt is well-within regulations. According to your handbook, the hem must be touching the knee at all times while standing and cannot rise above a quarter inch above the knee while sitting. Her hem touches her knee even while sitting. Seeing as you have eyes and I assume you know your own handbook, I’d like an explanation as to why you interrupted my workday over this.”

The Headmaster sputtered under the coldness in your tone.

“Mrs. Sallow–”

“No.”

“Ma’am, teachers have been making complaints about how inappropriate Eliza looks in her uniform. I’m sure you can see that she looks rather improper at times. It is distracting.”

You blinked.

“I see. Which teachers have called her distracting?”

The Headmaster seemed to interpret your question as his opportunity to throw some credibility behind his words. He rattled off the different teachers and the subjects they taught. There was a single woman, but you were unsurprised to hear ‘Mister’ this and ‘Mister’ that.

“They can vouch for what I’ve said, and I would call them to my office if need be,” he smiled like he won. Like him calling for backup could do anything against you.

“Please do.” You nodded calmly. “It will be good to match a face to a name during the investigations.”

The Headmaster paled. “Investigations?”

Your stern gaze met with his shifting, nervous eyes.

“But of course,” you said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “My auror husband and I simply cannot allow men who would be distracted by a ten year old girl to work at a school. That won’t do at all.”

The Headmaster stumbled around his desk in his haste to approach you.

“Now, now! That is quite the conclusion you’ve come to, Mrs. Sal– Ma’am. Our faculty has simply observed that Eliza’s body has developed in such a way that–”

You put a hand up to stop him. “I see. A young woman’s body changes the slightest bit and suddenly grown men are unable to contain themselves.”

“That’s not what I–!”

Turning to take your leave, you call over your shoulder, “I hope you have other skills, Headmaster, for you’ll never work in education again. Consider my daughter disenrolled.”

You step out into the hall and are greeted by your husband and child. Eliza looked nervous while Sebastian was trying to hide a smile.

You lean down to ask your daughter, “Do you have all your things?” She nodded. “Everything? You won’t be coming back here.” She nodded again.

“Good.”

Sebastian placed his hand on the small of your back, took Eliza’s hand, and guided you both to the exit. He leaned over and spoke in hushed tones.

“All settled? Finished tormenting him?” he asked.

“My love, I haven’t even begun to torment him,” you replied.

He kissed your temple. “You are absolutely terrifying.”

“I am.”

“I’m desperately in love with you.”

“You are.”

---

A/N: Sebastian's auror outfit is inspired by a fanart I saw by @notashree on TikTok, and it looks like she has an instagram @itsashree.

Also, the line where The Headmaster tries to call you 'Mrs. Sallow' had a different response, but it's a spoiler for a different fic I'm writing, so I changed it. Yeehaw.

[lachesis-games]

This hasn't really been done to me, which I appreciate you all for and you're all very sexy for it but if I see ONE MORE random anon in someone's ask box pestering them about updates, I am going to throw the biggest bitch fit the world has ever seen -- like some serious earth-shaking stuff.

IF's are mostly free! How are people complaining about shit they don't pay for?? IF content is a labor of love, writers shouldn't have to feel pressure to release updates! Drink bleach! ❤️

And if you're gonna be rude, do it off anon

[oroontheheels]

[not-really-a-writer]

maybe it hurts so much when he talks about his ex because I know he saw something in her that he loved. And he doesn’t see anything like that in me.

[izvmimi]

cw: pop star!au. fem!reader with diva & tsun tendencies. sfw but suggestive. possibly may have more parts.

When you finally show up to the studio, having woken up hours past your expected alarm such that you had to skip your yoga and your poolside brunch, your assistant is not happy to see you in the least, and the rest of your camera crew is at least a little bit miffed.

And quite frankly, you don’t give a flying fuck. 

You’re about forty-five minutes late, but the fact of the matter is that the main attraction is you, and only you, and as one of the top international pop stars of the decade, you have gotten a little too comfortable with letting your whims set the tone of things. The hustle and bustle of the set however starts up again the moment you walk in, as your head assistant claps her hands and lets the crew know to set up cameras, makeup and outfitting to get ready to put you in their chair and turn you magical. 

You walk right up to her and give her a cheeky grin. 

“Sorry, I overslept.”

Aya wishes she could throw you out of the nearest window but settles to say slap a script in a sheet of paper into your chest.

“This is the plan for the music video. Read this and don’t piss me off.”

You frown as you take it from her then scan through the crumpled piece quickly. Your newest music video is supposed to be a bit sexier than usual, with a pretty generic storyline - you play a damsel in distress saved by a dashing hero, the trope subverted by the fact that you’re a succubus, far from someone to be saved. You’re excited for it, having played a little bit too close to sweetheart territory for so long, and it’ll be your first time having an actual top Hero as your love interest, unlike your prior models who were more props than anything else.

But there’s one issue.

You crinkle your nose in distaste.

“You got Deku!?”

Aya raises her eyebrow adjusting thick rimmed glasses as she repositions her stance as though she’s preparing for a fight, her arms crossed over her chest.

“Is there a problem?”

You groan dramatically, then rush past her, pretending to be aggravated as you make your way towards the breakfast spread that has remained untouched until you arrived and stuff a dry croissant in your mouth.

“I asked for a hot Hero! Sexy! I ask you to do your goddamn job and you hire a man with green Teletubby energy!”

Somebody beside you scoffs, and as the two of you glance in the worker’s directions, he’s unable to stifle his laughter before he walks off, pushing a cart of cleaning supplies with him. You twist your mouth to the side, hands on hips, then turn your attention back to Aya.

“So you’re telling me Dynamight, Red Riot, and Shoto were unavailable?”

Aya’s lips press into a thin line. Despite being your assistant, she’s still one of your closest confidantes and she bites back just as hard as you can, and as usual, she does so now.

“I said, don’t piss me off, Tinkerbell. I’ll have you know I spent a lot of extra time making sure to-” she stops chewing you out suddenly, her eyes wide, and you blink, then turn. 

Deku is standing right behind you, and you’re 100% certain he heard your exchange. If he’s upset, he doesn’t show it, instead he’s smiling sheepishly, his hand scratching the back of his neck. 

“I think Kacchan was a bit busy and uh… Shoto probably wouldn’t have done this anyway, he’s not the type. As for Red Riot… that I’m not really sure...,” he trails off, pensive.

You blink at him rapidly as you crane your neck to look at him.

Pro Hero Deku is a lot taller than he looks on television. His face is still boyish and friendly, the harmless look not necessarily limited to television, but when you take a look at the rest of his countenance, broad shouldered and thick, it’s clear that there’s a reason why he’s topping the charts currently.

Even if his soft look doesn’t particularly scream sex appeal. 

“Sorry you’re stuck with me.” He bows politely, hands pressed against the sides of his jeans. “Let’s work hard together!”

When he rises, he’s looking at you with hopeful anticipation, and the way his eyes practically glow with earnestness actually upsets you.

You open your mouth then close it. The diva persona of yours isn’t without an ounce of empathy, but he’s already getting on your nerves. You look at Aya who gives you the glare she does when she wants you to behave, but you’ve already stomped your foot and stormed away.

Frustrated and unsure why.

“I’ll be at my trailer, call me when we get started.”

—

The problem is that he’s hot, and you hate to be wrong.

The type of hot that makes your head spin when you’re too close, that makes you forget the words you’re supposed to be singing to him, that makes the fans that blow through your wig and flowing clothing not enough to manage the heat that runs through your body.

“Get closer!” the videographer screams behind the camera and you swallow thickly as Izuku moves first, crossing the already minimal distance between the two of you to wrap his arm around your waist and the other around your shoulders. It’s supposed to be a romantic, protective pose, and he’s not looking at you but at the camera, but he’s so close, he smells good, his clothes are dramatically torn, ripped in the way you’d expect after a tense battle but artificially so. Your heart thumps as if he were protecting you for real, and you hope he can’t sense it, the disarray that’s running from your center to your fingertips as you try desperately to figure out where to put your hands. 

“___, can you please find a way to make this look more natural?” you’re being barked at by your greatest hater and favorite employee.

Aya, please shut the fuck up, you want to tell her, but Deku hasn’t let you go. 

“Next take.”

Deku finally releases you and you let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding. He’s smiling, the makeup dust and grime and blood barely marring his handsome features, in fact accentuating them.

They didn’t have to make him look this good. You’re going to have a talk with the visual designer, this is getting ridiculous.

“Sorry, was that okay?” He’s still smiling, bashful as if he’s the one who can’t stop looking at you, and imagining how his hands would feel pressed against your chest, when it’s very clearly the reverse. You wonder for a moment how easily he attracts the opposite sex with this sweet boy act, as if the plentiful scars on his broad chest, littered over his arms and likely below the pants hanging low on his waist, creeping past the Adonis belt aren’t evidence that perhaps he’s not so toothless after all.

You want to practically smack him, he frustrates you so damn much.

“Adequate,” you answer. The director tells you to take five and you step away quickly, practically falling off the fake set rubble on your way down.

You can’t even stumble the way you want to, because Hero Deku is fast and is holding onto your arm before you can make your way down.

“You okay?”

Unwittingly, you give him a distressed look, and he lets go quickly, and you storm off.

“I’ll be in my trailer!” you announce again, while the workers grumble that you’re supposed to literally only take five.

Aya is chuckling to herself this time, because she’s clocked you a mile away.

Tinkerbell has a crush.

[seuonji]

彡 the things he’s whispered loudly ー lee seokmin

๑ goody two shoes yn au!

notes ๑ madly in love x stupid and innocent.

genre ๑ fluff

warnings ๑ yn’s portrayed as more innocent here!!

word count ๑ 0.7k

from aya: please reblog if you enjoyed! feedback is always appreciated<3

you knew lee seokmin really well like, on a personal level. which was weird because you two are from completely different worlds. he liked causing trouble for fun while you were the one in charge of stopping that trouble. yet you knew how many moles he had on his face, you knew his favourite colour, you knew why he’s always late to class, you knew so much courtesy of him always being in the damn student council room.

“now, why are you here?” you tilted your head as you walked into the student council room. as you walked in, you saw a familiar figure sitting on the couch. it was only his back facing you yet you still recognised him.

“yn!!” he beamed as he turned around.

“you didn’t get into trouble didn’t you?” you furrowed you’re brows as you closed the door behind you.

he dramatically gasped and stood up, walking behind you to your desk, “i wouldn’t break our promise.”

recently, you two have gotten closer after sharing certain personal things. seokmin asked if you would consider him a friend and you answered yes. he was touched and as a friend, you asked him for a favour. a favour to lessen his troublesome acts and so far he’s been keeping his promise well.

since then he hasn’t really had a reason to be around you yet, he still followed you around the school like a dog.

“how are you today?” you nonchalantly asked. you never really shooed him away, ever for as long as you’ve known him and actually, you quite liked his company.

“i’m good! how about you?” he bent down to your face level as you were sitting on your desk chair.

“mm i’m okay, just hoping to get this work done soon. do you have any extra curriculars today?”

“not at all, i’m actually free today,” he sat down beside you.

“that’s nice,” you hummed.

your eyes were on your paperwork the whole time while his were on you. and he’d been waiting for you to look at him yet you didn’t.

“are you free today yn?” he broke the silence.

“i should be after i finish this…why?” you reluctantly replied.

“great so afterwards we can go out!” he stood up with a wide smile.

you organised your papers and your head flicked, “what? where?”

“on a date?” he chuckled and he spoke with confidence.

“isn’t that what people that like each other do?” you quietly asked. it showed your uncertainty and suddenly, he got the hint you probably didn’t have experience with this sort of thing.

he pursed his lips and sat by you again, “well…i like you?”

“since when?”

“i told you i like you like last week!” he furrowed his brows and looked at you confused.

he did actually. and you remember it all. but he said it out of nowhere when you two went your own way afterschool, “i like you yn,” he whispered with a chuckle as he walked away. you took it as ‘friends’ but now you’ve realised, perhaps it wasn’t that way.

“you meant it?” you dropped your pen and turned your body towards him, showing your curiosity in the conversation.

“obviously i did?” he squinted his eyes but quickly tried to remain calm and gave you the benefit of the doubt.

“…what now?” you stuttered. this must’ve been the first time he’s ever seen you flustered.

“do you want to go on the date?” he asked with a puzzled tone.

“uhm. i’ve never been on one,” you answered embarrassed.

“it’s okay, you don’t need to have been on one, let’s just have fun?” he was at your face level and was weirdly close but his words were convincing.

“oh, okay,” you sweetly nodded and reverted your eyes to your paper work.

“oh really? okay,” he grinned.

he sat there looking at you until you finished your paper work. his heart was beating at an unhealthy rate but he’s glad he finds his weeks of planning for your ‘date’ worth it.

and he never realised just how innocent you were, let alone you being shy over a date but one things for sure, he’ll never let anyone take that away from you.

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

Ohh I see now. Meursault happened so that Fyodor could delay things long enough for Bram to get his glorious legs back all so he could body-jack him and stand dramatically with two swords

Also because it would be anticlimactic as hell if he ended up becoming half a vampire. Imagine a timeline where he takes over just a little too early and he comes to being carted around on Aya’s back with the sword he needs still stuck in him. And he has no leggy…

[inmyheadimobsessed]

Ruin the Friendship

pairing: scotty ✘ black!fem!reader

summary: it's raining, the power's out and you're alone with your brother's best friend, the girl you've been pining after for years. there must be a way for the two of you to pass the time, right?

word count: long <3

contains: smut (18+), oral (scotty being a munch), fingering (reader receiving), strap!scotty, desperate!scotty, extremely softtop!scotty, needy!reader, bottom!reader, tribbing, lovesick!reader (like BAD), a little angsty (reader is a dramatic crybaby who's in love, leave her alone), scotty is still her cute little shy self, but because she knows reader, she's a lil more open, drunken confessions, passionate sex, biting, lots of crying, praise, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, fluff at the end (they're just soo in love)

tags: @verachii @zayswriting @quintessencewrites @rxcently @widowmakker @blackgcomica @n7cje @dejaonline @shinsousliya @generallysapphic @mbakuetshurisprincess @pinkwright @saintwrld @axailslink @mocha-aya @uhwhatsay @6-noir @cuddl3s4shur1 @percsane @chidinma @shuriszn @lppriceisright @sweetalittleselfish-honey @abenomeiiii @marsolgy @prettymrswright @shurisjournal @marsolgy @shurismainbxtch @shurisbbymama @bestfriend491 @shuriri4life @bubshri @cafehyunji @vixentheplanet @ventingfanfics @yunhofingers @yamsthoughts @iseebeautyinwords @ihearttish @vampzxi

divider by: @firefly-graphics

note: back writing for the love of my life again, now y'all can stop YELLING at me! this fic kinda beat my ass a lil bit, but we did it joe! but honestly idk how the idea of scotty fucking on her best friend's sister turned into this, it was post to be funny and fluffy and cute (which it still kinda is) but THIS that i'm posting was not in anyway similar to the original plot of the movie. like i was writing and then i got done, looked back at my outline, and was like ooh baby this ain't the script. i was depressed as hell writing this too, so sowwy of it seeped through LOL! i do love this version of scotty though, she's just so ugh. anywho, hope y'all still enjoy. mwah mwahh!!

Falling for Scotty was instinctive, as effortless as an inhale — your feelings for her etched into your bones. And with those etchings traveled a wanting ache that created a home within your marrow, tunneling deep, and hollowing you out until the sensation was all you knew.

You welcomed it though, this incessant throb, for it was the only proof of your capability to love in this capacity: deeply, entirely, unequivocally. It wasn't easy, breathing without knowing her touch, but options outside of this did not exist for you, so you were forced to yearn from a distance, as you did now.

Your hurt lived at its peak at this moment, tugging on your sore heartstrings as you watched her cut your grass with a sigh brined in want. Scotty bathed beneath the drizzle of her sweat before you, dark skin glistening under each droplet while the sun accentuated her shine.

Those fingers, they belonged to a worker. Their tight squeeze on the lawn mower left you breathless as you envisioned their tips pressing deep into your throat, departing your flesh only after the creation of pretty bruises.

When the back of her hand met her damp forehead, you gasped in anticipation, a sharp gust of air nicking your throat on its way down. You waited, gnawing on your lip anxiously, gloved hands clamping down on the soapy plate in your hold — she was going to do it soon.

You were practically drooling, eyes protruding as you scanned her perspiring body hungrily. And then… there it was. Scotty's halt stopped your heart, and the plate you previously held plunged directly into a sudsy bath.

She removed her digits from the lawnmower, and her hand traveled down. Down to the hem of her soaked tank top, and she hoisted it up. Up to her face for assistance in drying her sweat beads. The material rose just enough for you to spot the edge of her equally damp sports bra clinging to her sticky skin, and she blessed your vision with those perfect flexing abs of hers.

A singular line of sweat rolled its way down the center of her toned stomach and your entranced irises stalked it, following the trickle’s descent to the waistband of her shorts until the droplet was absorbed by the material. “Fuck…”

You bit your lip with a smirk, squeezing your thighs together. Her fists clenched the handle again, and she fell back into her practiced pushing, eyebrows knitting against the slight resistance. If the window were open, her gravelly grunts would bless your eardrums with their strain, and your mind would construct the picture of her floating above you, making those same tired sounds as she rocked–

“Why do you just have the tap running?” That stupid voice. Your brother's voice. It snuck up on you, and it restarted your still heart, serving as nothing more than an aggravating prompt as to why Scotty wasn't yours.

You rolled your eyes, tightening your grip on that restraint trying desperately to escape your claws. “Maybe don't worry about what I’m doing.”

“When I pay the water bill, I make it my business to know how it's being used. Or in this case, how it's being wasted.”

Your groan was unavoidable, it always was when your brother chose to invade your bubble. Reluctantly, you peeled longing eyes away from Scotty, returning your focus to the dishes floating in the sink with a grumble. “You're so fucking lame.”

“Yeah, I'm lame.” You tossed a glance back at him, noting the way he buried his huge block head inside the fridge, and you took this as an opportunity to ogle your sweat-drenched love once more. You pushed onto your toes, hopelessly trailing Scotty's strides in the grass, clinging to the grace in which she moved as your stomach welcomed that familiar tightness.

The last dish was on the rack now, and you switched off the streams just as your brother emerged from the fridge with two chilled water bottles. He pushed past you, bumping your shoulder on purpose as he trotted to the back door, and soon the sounds of a growling mower filled the house. “Yo! Scotts, take a break, yeah?”

You watched her in the window again, her eyes finding yours through the glass. A fire flickered alive inside your body when she glanced up at you, and Scotty let a small smile crack across those lips you’d felt only in dreams. Your inhale surfaced low in volume, but its choice to harmonize with your sprinting heart’s prayer for reprieve deafened you still.

She was on the patio now, chatting mindlessly with your brother, and slowly, you allowed the prattle of her distant voice to draw you in, engraved bones piloting each of your strides to the living room as your tired heart complied.

“So, you coming by next Saturday?” You planted yourself by the couch, out of your brother’s view, but squarely in Scotty's. Bare thighs bewitched her, and automatically, those frantic eyes of hers swept the expanse of them, widening the longer she scanned them over in your shorts. Scotty let her inspecting linger, permitting her shameless gaze to climb your uncovered stomach, the poke of your boobs beneath your bralette, and finally, she let her eyes latch onto your expecting brown ones.

You blushed under her heated watch, and she did the same beneath yours. She wrestled with a demanding smirk and lost, but her attempt to conceal it remained adorable. Your Scotty was a story, seared into your skull, recitable on command, and if she knew your skill when reading her, she'd see her endeavor as what it was; one of no use.

Your brother tapped her shoulder, pulling her attention from you to him just after he peered back at you with a head shake. “Scotts, did you hear me?”

“Sorry, what?” She blinked, floundering in the shame of being caught, and you giggled from where you stood. You resided in her head, as she lived in yours.

This notion stirred a strength inside you, a sense of supremacy awakened only when you were reminded you weren't alone in your fancy, and it subsided some of that ache for a brief while.

“I said, are you coming by next Saturday? Mum’s out of town so I'm having people over, real lowkey. You gotta come mate, it's always so hard to get you out of the house.”

Thieving were your brother’s words, robbing you of Scotty's attention and you huffed in annoyance. Basking below her inspection filled your desperate body with a warmth; her stare was the kind to sizzle your skin, and you loathed the absence of the feeling.

Her head craned backward as she pushed the neck of her sweating water bottle to her awaiting lips, throat bobbing with each eager swallow of the cool liquid. You watched small streams spill from her lips, and roll down her neck, tangling with her existing speckles of perspiration. She was messy with each gulp, and a wet mouth suited her. “Uh, I’m not sure.”

Fuck, that voice again, you moaned at its vibration, and the not-so-subtle whimper perked both sets of ears on the patio. Your brother’s scrutiny heated your already burning skin, but you ignored its blaze, just as you disregarded your body’s demand that you run. You couldn't, you needed to witness the way her lips quirked ever so slightly when she heard the sound, your sound.

“Why are we even best friends, Scotts? I always gotta force you to come out.” Your brother whined, making her chuckle. God that laugh of hers; timid; deliberate, and it tugged you forward into its infectious reverb. Scotty owned you in this way, her laugh owned you, her nervous smile as you inched closer. Sore muscles propelled you toward her, and they were met with zero resistance — proximity to Scotty held all the power to dull your ache.

Fingers circled the doorknob as you hooked your chin around the open door, and you smiled up at the shy girl before you. “I’ll be here on Saturday Viv, you'll come to see me, right?”

“Uh…” Rendering her speechless, an action that bustled your pride. Her anxious fidget was one of the many things you loved about her, that, and the way she struggled pitifully when attempting to hide just how flustered your existence made her.

Your brother groaned, “You’ll be in your room. I don't want you anywhere near my friends.”

“Your friends are all a bunch of dickheads, just like you,” You smirked, and Scotty tripped into it against her will, steadying herself bashfully at the last second. “Well, except for you, Viv. You couldn't be a dickhead if you tried.”

“She's not fucking interested. And you look desperate.”

You stepped onto the patio then, smacking his head, and he winced dramatically. A sweet sound, though it wasn't comparable to the one you sought; Scotty’s laugh. When she offered it up it melted your mind; you’d be a puddle soon, legs and body dissolving before those swirling irises you loved dearly. “So glad the asshole gene ended with you.”

Scotty giggled again, waking the butterflies batting violently in your depths. “I’ll see you Saturday, Viv?”

“S-See you S-Saturday.”

•••

The ends of your wild braids veiled your bare chest, fingers dancing slowly down to where you needed them most as you tugged your nipple roughly. When those spit-soaked lips of yours separated, one name existed on your tongue, and it clamored from your pits the second shaking digits connected with your sensitive clit. “Scotty…”

A forever-clogged head generated only conjurings of her, your fantasies being the one place you were allowed to have her, and you never shied from indulging. Slow strokes teased that feeling forward, and your pedicured toes curled the higher her face in your mind's eye made you soar. Her name was enclosed in each exhale, intricately wrapped in your lusty desires with their inevitable unraveling being enough to tip you over.

“Oh, Scotty…” You let the sound of your slickness entrance you, brain traveling to her reaction if she were here to see you, feel you, taste–

A series of knocks on your bedroom door ripped you from deep within your Scotty-riddled thoughts, and you groaned, rolling over in your pillow to muffle an irritated scream. “Fuck off!”

“Scotty’s coming over to fix the drip in the bathroom sink. Let her in, and don't be a fucking weirdo, I'm going out.”

Your brother’s words possessed the strength to spring your body upright in your sheets, and you grinned, welcoming that throb you were on a mission to subdue just seconds ago, that throb that breathed and intensified from the mere mention of her name.

You tugged your T-shirt back on, slid your underwear up, and sighed at the feel of your slick gluing the thin material to your folds.

Rarely did the opportunity of being alone with Scotty arise, she was your brother’s friend, and she ventured around only to hang out with him, emphasizing your position in her life. Scotty liked you, a fact clear as day, but the restraint housed within her body remained one that forever combated your own, and it was for this reason that you forced yourself to become comfortable with the scope of separation between you both. But, she was on her way over, and it’d just be the two of you now.

Possibility floated in the atmosphere as you mulled this thought over, and your excitement constricted your chest, tightening those exhausted little heartstrings of yours.

An unsteady step abetted your climb from your bed and you exhaled once on your feet; your climax evaded your grasp, but the prospect of spending time with your forbidden love held the power to wobble you still.

The shirt draping your frame left nothing up to the imagination, exposing your curves, the nudge of your sore nipples, and your damp panty-clad cunt remained visible as you studied yourself in the mirror. Your attire screamed “She was just in the middle of getting off,” and you contemplated changing into something more… appropriate.

But the resounding clang of the doorbell blared throughout the house, jarring you, and you toppled, your half-naked body tripping over scattered shoes and dirty laundry begging to be washed on the floor. It rang again, and you stumbled back on your feet, flying out your bedroom door and down the steps at the speed of lightning. There was something to be said about the pathetic nature in which you staggered to the front door. You were a fawn, learning to stable oneself for the first time, lacking grace, lacking finesse as you launched yourself forward for the doorknob.

Did you care? Certainly not, not with Scotty awaiting your greeting on the other side of the barrier keeping you two apart.

Breathless as you were, you opened the door just as her finger poked the button again, and the pair of you giggled shyly, noting the other's blush. You could never tire of her laugh, and its coyness. It coaxed her blinding smile into the open, and once it beamed out, clouding it became a difficult task for Scotty.

“H-Hey Viv…” You huffed, scanning her appearance with a gulp.

Her blushing never faltered, mouth gaping before she decided to suck in her bottom lip at the sight of you in just a shirt. She dipped her head, sheepish in her attempt to shelter her nerves, but her sweet stutter betrayed her the moment she opened that pretty mouth, “Um, uh, h-hi. I c-came for the um, the…”

“The sink.” You finished for her, and she nodded with a small chuckle.

“Uh, yeah. The sink.” You stepped aside and Scotty trudged into the house, toolbox locked in those strong fingers as she wiped her work boots on the mat rather awkwardly. She watched you all the while, eyes trained on your thighs as you smirked up at her, absorbing the rays of her immersion. Scotty attempted subtlety when your brother was around, but she took advantage of his absence now as she ogled your tight nipples poking up in your shirt.

You ran your fingers through your braids, shaking them slightly to make your tits jump before her eyes, and when she exhaled wearily, you allowed your throat to vacuum her air, breathing in its warmth with a quiet moan.

And you smiled then, feeling that comfortable throb weaken just from the nearness of your bodies.

Scotty was right there, right in front of you, and it would be nothing to reach out and touch. God, you wanted to reach out and touch, but just as you leaned in a little, she jerked, turning frantically and heading to the stairs. “It shouldn't um, take me too long. It's just a drip r-right?”

“J-Just a drip…” Though, the leaking at your core exceeded that.

You climbed the stairs behind her, pulling on the hem of your top anxiously with each step as you followed her knowing strides to your bathroom. Scotty's shoulders flexed under her black and yellow patterned shirt, and your treacherous mind concocted images of crimson claws dragging along her back, feeling those blades tighten and loosen with steady thrusts, if you were blessed with the opportunity to lay beneath her as she had her way with you, that was.

“Can you um, I have to look under the sink. Just uh, tell me if the drip is still going when I ask, yeah?” She flicked on the light, placing her toolbox down on the mat and you nodded slowly. There laid command in her request — innocent in her mind — but far from in yours.

You hoisted yourself onto the counter, naked thighs spilling out from under your T-shirt. Its lack of length once again became her fixation, and you watched the flash of realization storm Scotty's electric eyes; she would have to kneel before you to get under the sink. You smirked, concluding this at the same time she did, and slowly, she stooped in hesitation, sinking to the floor to open the cabinet. Her eyes refused to leave your seductive ones, and a devious plan slithered its way into your mind like a serpent.

Once Scotty was on her knees, she wavered, chewing her lip nervously, still watching you, and you allowed your parting thighs to rocket her heart.

There was a squish, because you were fucking drenched, and Scotty's eyes followed the sound her ears alerted her of, landing right on your damp core. She whimpered in the back of her throat, permitting the sight to captivate her fully, and she frowned. She found your eyes again, pleading wordlessly for you to shut your legs, to allow her to do what she came to, but you were not in the business of being gracious. You wanted her too much — the beating in your chest and the beating at your core driving your choice.

“J-Just, uh, let me know about the drip.” She pointed weakly to the faucet, capturing one last glance at your red panties before vanishing under the sink.

She fumbled with the valves, “Did it stop?”

“Nope.” Your legs were swinging, blood rushing at the sight of her exposed middle, her stomach contracting as she worked.

“Now? Is it still leaking?” You glanced at the faucet, clapping your hands when you noticed the drip had disappeared, only to realize the one at your center was gaining stream.

You giggled, “Something's leaking.”

Scotty sighed, seemingly frustrated and you pouted, “But is the faucet still leaking? That's what I’m asking.”

“No.”

She muttered something, but it went unheard because her abs were out of hiding fully now, and you were a drooling mess at the image of her splayed on your bathroom floor. “How long have we known each other, Viv?”

Scotty hummed, unmoving under your cabinet. Something told you she remained under there on purpose. “All our lives.”

“And would you believe me if I said I've had a crush on you this entire time?” Your question startled you, and you blinked at your sudden spurt of confidence, gripping the countertop firmly to avoid fainting.

There was a thud, and a small groan, one that shouldn't have excited you because it was obvious the sound derived from pain, but any sort of moan evading Scotty's lips would push thrill through your body. “No.”

She stood, rubbing the side of her forehead with that same groan again, and you tilted your head. “You wouldn't believe that I have a crush on you?”

Her eyes brimmed with a speckle akin to want — hope; Scotty hoped sincerity guided your words. They dazzled, irises swimming in a chocolate sea as you studied her reluctance. Her pretty lips hung downward as you let your full ones fall also, the sight fracturing your heart just a little, her resistance in belief. “You wouldn't believe me, Viv?”

“The drip is on the hot water side. I n-need you to get down so I can take the f-faucet apart.”

Words that broke your heart entirely, because she was shaking, and she refused to answer your question. “I do, have a crush on you, Vivienne.”

A crush. An insignificant word, and a diluted confession, you thought. Describing what you felt for Scotty as a crush seemed so trivial. You loved her, you were in love with her, and you wanted her to love you. But if your admission of a crush unnerved her this much, you were terrified to find out what a declaration of love would do to the poor girl.

“Uh, c-can you let me get to the faucet? Please?”

Earnesty eluded Scotty now, the averting of your spiky stare told you that. She fought it, her desire to slip between your thighs and hold you close, but it would ultimately be a battle lost. “Scotts…”

“Please.”

You whimpered, “Scotty, look at me?”

Brown eyes met your wishing ones and she softened immediately, her sweaty forehead falling to yours as she snaked her arms around your waist. God, you could break. You did break, you broke the moment she did. “I-I… you…”

Her tears were light and steady, and they scorched, flowing and mixing with your own as you offered up a small whine. You cupped her wet face, and Scotty nuzzled her cheek into your delicate palm with a sigh, confirming the thing you always assumed — she was a beauty starved for touch. And now, amending this was to be your job as you gazed into her welling eyes.

It was so easy, to drown in every unspoken emotion filtering out the both of you through your sobs, and if she continued to peer at you through damp lashes, you just might let yourself sink.

Salty tears rushed your tastebuds, forcing you to swallow each drizzle as you searched for the right thing to say to calm your love. “Scotty…”

“Would y-you b-believe m-me if I said I had a c-crush on you, too?” She questioned with a sniffle, heated fingers gripping yours, and reluctantly, you let her peel your hands from her face. Your waist felt bare without her digits pressing into it, and your shattered heart knew not how to take the loss.

You laughed lightly, “Yeah?”

Scotty let the corner of her mouth quirk, and she took in your murky irises. “I shouldn't, but I do.”

“Would you like to kiss me, Scotty?”

She shut her eyes with a desperate groan, squeezing your digits so tight, your fingertips ran cold. “God… very much.”

You caressed her face intently, eyes boring into her untamed ones as you watched her brows knit in anticipation. And then you were pulling her in, feeling her hot mouth moving against your own. Your world stilled, and the remaining shards of your broken heart plummeted, leaving those butterflies of yours as the only things inside of you capable of sustaining life.

Your ache, your beautiful, throbbing, lifelong ache dwindled for a moment as Scotty's mouth meshed with yours. She kissed you fiercely, fingers grazing your throat, breathing existence back into your being, and it was then that you moaned for her.

Scotty lost it, your sound putting her on the prowl. Her incisors punctured your bottom lip and you hissed from the euphoric pain, wrapping your legs around her slim waist, fingers finding their way under her shirt with haste. When you grazed the dips of those abs you gawked on a daily, your moan bloomed louder, and Scotty pulled away.

“God. That s-sound, oh my god, s-so pretty. Please.”

You nodded, “Kiss me again.”

But Scotty shook her head, puzzling you, and when her teary eyes met yours, your ache returned — at full force — crushing every bone in your body. “We can't.”

“W-We just d-did.”

She kissed your hands, making you shudder, and she frowned. “Your brother…”

“Isn't here. It's just us, you and me Scotts. Want you to kiss me again, want you to touch me, please. Please, Scotty.”

Scotty pressed her back into the wall in front of you, eyes glazed over as you watched her breathing pick up. She once again battled with her want for you, and the only thing barring her triumph, was your stupid fucking brother.

You rolled your eyes, refusing to let it end like this, not after finally tasting her tongue outside of your imagination. “Scotty. Touch me.”

“Fuck… you can't say things like that,” She winced, as if your words inflicted pain. “Makes my mind go places it shouldn't.”

You raised your brow at this, “Where does your mind go when I give you permission to touch me?”

She didn't answer, so you reached out for her, spreading your legs wider the closer she inched, and she stared at your wet panties, pupils dilating as she whimpered. “I c-can't. I'm not supposed t-to. You're off limits t-to me.”

“But you want to, don't you? You wanna feel me, Scotty?”

She nodded, sucking in a sharp breath as she allowed you to press her palm flat against your heat. “Feel me, Scotty.”

You shoved your panties to the side, reveling in the effort it took to unstick the cloth from your pussy, and Scotty gasped.

A singular tear rolled down her cheek when presented with the cunt that wept for her touch, your clit calling her name with each jump. She stared into your wanting eyes, begging for permission and you nodded. Scotty pressed into your clit, whining softly along with your mewls, and you nestled your face into her chest to muffle them, entirely consumed by the ecstasy flooding your senses.

Scotty massaged nurturing circles into your bud, her wounded moans ringing in your ear while she twitched, absorbing the sound of your slick pussy. You hadn't even noticed you were crying again until you opened your mouth to moan, and warm droplets filled it.

You leaked onto the bathroom counter, wetness spilling with each of her delicate rubs. It wasn't long before you were quaking, thighs levitating in sync with your racing heart as you pushed your back into the mirror.

“You're s-so, fuck, I-I wanna… Can I put my f-fingers inside you? Wanna feel all of you.” You nodded, and Scotty wasted no time slipping two coated digits into your hole. God, it was way more than you saw yourself able to handle. The pleasure, the emotions; your body couldn't bear it.

Hard nipples rubbed against your shirt as you moaned for her, and she nodded toward the protrusion. “Touch them for me?”

This Scotty, and her commanding bass were a foreign pair to you. Though phrased as a question, her request was the furthest thing from, and you complied immediately, pulling your perky nipples above the material as your eyes fanned down to where Scotty worked you. “Fuck, Scotty, just like that…”

“Lift your shirt, I-I wanna s-see them please.”

The hem of your shirt came up as you hummed faintly, and your boobs were out, fingers latching on to tweak your tender nubs once more. The sound of her fucking your pussy with her fingers had you reeling, every tendon in your body tightening as they prepared to snap. You bucked into each of her skilled thrusts, whimper after whimper dropping from your parted lips as she stretched your tight cunt.

Scotty was inside of you, you were riding her worker digits as she grunted from how your walls drank her in. Fuck, was this real life? “You're so wet, god I can't take this.”

“Only f-for you, please, pleeease!” You craned your neck, connected your mouth with your nipple, swirling your tongue around its firmness, never once breaking eye contact with her and she shivered at your lewd act.

“You drive me crazy, I just, fuck… You're so beautiful.” Scotty confessed, flicking your clit with ferocity, and you cried out.

“I'm, I'm gonna come! Please, faster Scotty, I wanna come for you! Please!” You sprawled for her as you sobbed her name, showing off your flexibility and Scotty cursed under her breath. You were certain her knees would give out soon with their continued buckling as she worked your pussy; she looked closer to collapse than you.

Her pace increased, outstretching her free hand to grip your floating thigh, and she pressed a kiss to your ankle. “Can I touch them?”

You were so out of it, but you nodded, and Scotty’s palm trailed your lurching stomach on its way up to your sensitive tits. She cupped the right one, basking in its warmth as your messy pussy sucked in her knuckles, tips brushing your special spot.

“Fuck! Right there! Oh my god! Right fucking there!” You jerked, fisting her shirt to yank her in for a sloppy kiss as the showers of your climax rained down on you. You were denied the feeling earlier, but you chose to believe this was because fate wanted Scotty to bring about your bliss. It was intense as hell, a willful pour that turned your vision white, and your moan was long and broken, eyes spilling endlessly. Scotty kissed your tears away, pumping you slower now, the ghost of her warm breath doing what it could to soothe you.

“You're so pretty when you come.”

A tired little groan crept out of you; you were attempting to thank her, but those numbing lips of hers were more powerful than you'd realized as she used them to whisper into your charged skin. “Shh. It's okay. You're okay.”

She remained inside of you, absorbing your clench as she whined from the suction, that was until footsteps approached the door. “Scotts, you in there?”

Scotty plucked her fingers from your seeping cunt, leaving you empty as panic seized her. You couldn't move, so you chose to watch her frantic dance through slanted eyes while you heaved, orgasm sitting still on your chest, weighing you down. She was genuinely terrified: scrambling to get her tools, muttering under her breath, and you wanted to calm her, but you couldn't move.

“I'm sorry.” Scotty pecked your forehead, forbidding her lips’ linger, and then she slipped out the door before your brother got a chance to reach for the handle, abandoning your spent figure in a pool of your release on the counter.

•••

Rejection was not fatal, and chanting this motto should drill belief into your brain. Should. But reliance on these words provided no comfort, or aid. Instead, they epitomized the only sentiment your snapping mind seemed able to hold fast to: Scotty did not want you.

She left you behind on the drenched bathroom counter, discarded as a thing she played with before deciding you no longer were of use to her. Admitting her behavior had been cruel was not a thing you saw yourself able to do though, because you knew your Scotty, and within her dwelled not an ounce of cruelty. Inflicting pain, breaking your heart in the way she did that day was not, should not, have been in her nature.

But you experienced it, barely survived her transgression, so what were you supposed to believe? Certainly not the mantra about rejection’s inability to fatally scar, because here you lay, permeating in the blood drawn from the wounds of Scotty's misdeed, slipping out of your mind, and away from yourself with time.

Once, you had a whole heart, it took up space, its beating gave you life, breeding your ability to love, because you loved Scotty. But now, similarly to your excavated bones, there lived a hollowness in your chest. A hollowness operating as a depressing reminder that your motionless heart existed in tatters, occupying the deepest depths of your knotted stomach.

Maybe you were being dramatic, though you’d tried being hopeful, thinking she would come round the next day, desperate to apologize, desperate to hold you and call you hers. But Scotty never showed, and all sense of promise had departed by the end of the week, amidst the lonely nights spent crying yourself to sleep.

Something you were attempting to do now as you tangled your aching body in your many blankets. A satin pillow covered your face, damp with tears as you groaned aloud, irritated by the music and laughter floating up from downstairs.

Your stupid fucking brother and his stupid fucking friends. Being in distress the entire week helped you forget about the party he was throwing tonight, but you couldn't ignore it now, and the sound of their happiness made your eye twitch. How dare that drove of losers enjoy life, when you sat teetering on the brink of death? It wasn't fair, and you wanted to scream it in their faces, but another wave of sobs flooded your cheeks, and you hugged your teddy bear tighter, mind racing to her.

“Scotts! You made it mate! Didn't think you'd be coming round after you've been MIA all week. You alright?”

You were up on your feet at the mention of her presence, drying your tears and booking it down the stairs as you gave in to your body's coercion, not a damn given about your somber appearance.

There was a singular mission: Lay eyes on her. You loitered in the kitchen, aiming to appear inconspicuous as you scanned the group with impatient eyes. After minutes of not spotting her head floating in the sizable crowd, you poured a drink, stuffing the bottle under your hoodie once you were certain there were no witnesses. You shook your head at the sea of people, so much for “real lowkey,” you thought.

“Pretty sure um, your brother wouldn't be too happy if he knew you were stealing his booze.” Fuck… that voice, its tentative quiver, her endearing tone doing everything in its power to bring your skin to life.

You spun, meeting her meek gaze, the liquid sloshing in the red solo cup you strangled long forgotten as you chose to drink her in instead. Of course she looked good, because apparently being unkind to your body was now a thing she practiced. Fuck…“Luckily I don't give a damn about what makes him happy then huh?”

Scotty smiled, providing competition for the sun, and it was then that you felt it, the sharp shards of your broken organ piecing itself back together inside your sternum. Because as much as she hurt you, you loved her still, with all of the splinters composing your barely beating heart.

“You alright?”

You hummed, feigning a small smile of your own, “Yeah.”

She shook her head, unconvinced, and she stepped in closer, reaching out for you as you did for her that day in the bathroom. “Can we um, I want–”

Protectively, your body recoiled against your will, jarring Scotty and jarring yourself with the abrupt movement. This defense was your mind’s doing; your heart was barely whole again, and your brain chose to reject Scotty in hopes of keeping it so. “I–”

“Christ, leave Scotty alone. She's not interested in you like that, learn when to take a hint,” Your brother left no room for a response before he dragged Scotty off. “Sorry about her man, little sisters are the worst.”

Scotty huffed a dry laugh, peering back at you in the kitchen, pleading with her eyes, but it was a stare you shunned, once again feeling that rush of neglect, so you trudged up the stairs, and back to your room to wallow, and get drunk by yourself.

You were lowering the bottle from your lips when showers attacked your windows, and you spared a glance at the rain, chuckling to yourself with a sniffle. The skies were mocking your tears, mocking your sorrow as you sat alone on the floor. The blackness of the starless sky was barely visible, but the swift flare of lightning provided illumination, and you braced yourself then for the impending angry roar that often followed.

You shuddered at the sound of clapping thunder, shutting your eyes as you took another long sip from the bottle of Don Julio you had tucked between your splayed thighs.

“It's just a storm,” You recited the sentence, wanting to convince yourself it couldn't get any worse. “It's just a storm, just a storm.”

As the downpour picked up, your breathing followed suit, the tequila whirling in your veins worsening your anxiety. “It's just a storm. Not like the power–”

Before you could cough up the rest of your sentence, the lights went out, the music stopped, and you could hear the wind’s sinister snicker as you rocked from side to side. “Fucking perfect.” Now, you were awarded the pleasure of crying like a lovesick baby in total darkness.

You sighed, attempting to hone in on the mumbling voices of the assholes downstairs, and their laughs that were not deterred by the pelting showers and deafening thunder. You took another sip, gulping it down and basking in its burn. There was a rap at your door, soft, almost questioning and you turned your head. It wasn't your brother, you could still hear his obnoxious baritone wafting up through the vents from where you sat.

The sound came again, this time followed by that voice you were in love with, shy and sickeningly demure, “Um, it's, it's Scotty.”

You didn't move, unperturbed by your drunken mind’s fondness for games, but when she spoke again, your battered heart led you toward her reprise. “I'm just checking–”

You pulled the door open, and there she stood, purple flannel engulfing her slim arms, frown set, and bright eyes wishing. “I'm just checking on you. I know you don't like thunderstorms.”

Scotty chewed her lip as you blinked before her, averting your teary eyes with a hung head. She wasn't oblivious to your state, anyone with sense could detect you’d been crying, and Scotty knew you well enough to discern that it wasn't solely the quaking skies inciting your waterworks.

“You remember that?” A small, desperate whisper disguised as a question. It held no weight, no power, but you watched as your words made Scotty shake. You’d relayed your fear to her once, when you were seven and she was eight, yet it remained a planted memory for her.

She didn't offer you words, just a nod, and you let your lips curl, dipping your head to hide your blush.

“I don't l-like knowing you're sad,” You stepped aside, making space for her to enter your bedroom and she moved intuitively to the scented candles decorating your dresser, burning them to welcome light into your space. “And I'm sorry. For making you sad.”

You shut the door instinctively, trapping her, with plans of keeping her. “Won't everyone notice you're gone?”

“Told them I was gonna go check the fuse box.” She laughed to herself, placing the last candle down, turning to face you in the darkened room, and you narrowed your eyes curiously. “I don't expect you to forgive me. But–”

“You want a drink?” You already had, forgiven her that was, and there lived no shame in your choice.

Scotty nodded, watching you stoop to the floor and she sat seconds later, mirroring you as you shoved the bottle toward her.

Dim candlelight brought your room to life, their low beacon silhouetting Scotty’s tipsy face as you watched her watch you. You were sitting across from her, chin on your knee with a smile as she permitted her palm to wander your outstretched leg. Her fingers brushed your ankle, making you giggle as she continued the action.

You would be forever indebted to the tequila she downed, because without it, this boldness would not bustle within her.

“Why have you been avoiding me, Viv?” Your eyes turned desperate, their gleam burning her in the dark.

“Haven't been avoiding you.”

You shook your head, “Liar.”

Scotty let her eyelids stutter as she scanned you, reading your written pages, decoding your metaphors with ease and you stiffened beneath her analysis. Scotty was your favorite story; a tale inscribed on your mended heart, but it seemed that she too was a lover of literature, particularly when you were depicted as the protagonist. “You don't like it when you don't have my attention.”

You huffed at her revelation. Suddenly, the booze you downed was no longer happy residing inside the depths of your stomach — it wanted out.

“I-I don't like when you ignore me for five days.” You managed to counter, just as a furious clang dropped from the heavens, making you jump.

Scotty’s lips fell, but her kneading fingers remained on your jeweled ankle, smoothing up and down, her intent set on calming you. “I'm sorry. I–”

“It made me think you weren't into me in that way.”

She blew a laugh, blushing under flickering flames and she craned her head toward the wet window. You wanted to keep her there, flustered as you were. “I-I don't think there's any other way to be into you. You're all I think about.”

“Then why go ghost after what happened between us?” You sucked in your bottom lip as you awaited her response, though the answer was one you knew already.

She massaged your socked foot now, thumb rooting deep with that strength you fantasized about, and fuck if you didn't pass out then. “You know why.”

“He doesn't matter. This is about us.”

Scotty sighed, “It's no secret that I don't have many friends. Your brother is my closest and oldest, his friendship means a lot to me. Can't ruin that.”

You grinned at her with a hum, blinking back the sting in your eyes and the surge of hurt her statement triggered. It wasn't worth the risk to her; you weren't worth the risk, caring for you, indulging in you. Scotty's goal wasn't to hurt, but the way she blurred these lines so easily was daunting. “Being with me could really mess your life up, huh? Well, we can't have that.”

“T-That's n-not how I meant it.”

“How did you mean it?” You snapped back, harsher than intended, making her flinch.

Scotty settled, taking a sip from the bottle before returning all her attention to your foot. Both hands clasped it now, and the pressure they provided sent shock waves through your entire body. “I don't want to mess up my friendship with your brother. But I also know my feelings for you aren't g-going anywhere, and I can't see myself doing anything halfway. Not ever, not with you.”

You gasped when she pushed in hard on your arch, throwing your head back with a low moan. “And especially not when you make sounds like that.”

Alcohol made Scotty brave, you’d discerned, you liked brave.

“W-What are you s-saying Scotty?”

She sighed again, “I'm saying I’m conflicted. I'm saying I like you a lot. I'm saying you make me crazy, but I know your brother and I know he won't approve.”

“You're saying a lot of things.” You both laughed, and she nodded.

“Yeah.”

Heavy rain banged on the windows, pattering on the house like your pattering hearts and you scooted closer to her on the carpet, tugging your foot from her fingers as Scotty's eyes widened. “Can I say my things now?”

There was a gulp, and Scotty nodded. For a moment, all you heard was the drumming in her chest that mimicked the unsettling thunder outside, but this rumble was not one you feared, however. Instead, it existed as the only roar that could settle you.

“I like you too, Scotty,” God, how you loathed diminishing your feelings, but you hoped she sensed the weight in your confession. “I wanna be with you. Breathing hurts when you're not around. If I make you crazy, then god dammit, you make me batshit fucking insane. What I feel for you, Vivienne… these words of mine cannot do that justice.”

“There's no way you're like that because of me.”

You sat in front of her now, and her breathing grew rapid. “Let me show you,” You straddled Scotty's lap, and immediately, her hands found your hips as if they called out to her. “Let me show you what I feel for you, Scotty. I want you to feel it all.”

“I know what you're asking for. But we–”

You shut her up with a kiss, a famished one, and a moan crept out of you and down her throat. Scotty's eager lips danced with yours, and you tasted the tequila on her tongue, the agent of desire driving all of the night's confessions. Scotty pulled away with a growl, panting as she pressed her wet mouth to your throat, teeth sinking into your sweaty skin, and you saw stars. “Fuck, Scotty. Do that again.”

“We shouldn't be doing this. I don't wanna–”

We can't. We shouldn't. Words that held no meaning as you bounced without patience on her lap, the only thing on your mind being that line you were anxious to cross. “Scotty, to hell with the fucking friendship. You want me, fucking take me.” Your hoodie came off, and her eyes found your bare breasts with a sigh, erect nipples entrancing her.

“Why are you doing this to me? Fuck…”

You licked her neck, and her grunt was enough to make you come right there. “Please touch me. Anywhere. N-Need to f-feel you, please Scotty, just…”

“Baby I–” Her hot lips were on your neck again; biting and sucking, leaving you drenched, and you fought the urge to shove her hand down your biker shorts. Scotty called you baby. She whimpered it, and if you weren't so horny you’d be in tears.

“S-Scotty…” Maybe you would cry, your desire to have her ravish you pulling on those dams in your eyes.

She shook her head, firm in her protest and you climbed off her, sitting topless on the carpet as you finally let those tears roll free. “You don't w-want me.”

Silence.

“It's alright. I’ll leave.” You stood, feet on a mission to lead you straight out the door.

But then Scotty stopped you, locking your wrist in her warm palm and you halted in her touch, “T-This is your room. And you don't have a shirt on.”

A wet laugh escaped you. You’d forgotten about your hoodie, you didn't even know where it landed when you tossed it, and your readiness to book it spoke to Scotty's skewing of your mind.

She spun you, cupping your wet face in the darkness and her forehead met yours. “Please don't ever think that I don't want you. I want you so bad it brings me to tears.”

“Show me.” She nodded, lips finding your wet ones again and you felt like you were ascending. The way her mouth moved against yours woke the family of butterflies living in your core, and their fluttering pushed for a continuance.

Scotty's eyes landed on your boobs when she pulled away, and her huff of air came instantly as she nuzzled her face into your chest with a grunt. “Fuck, oh my god. They're right in my face, they're right there. Please, god please can I–”

“Scotty, you can touch me wherever you want.”

There’d still been some hesitation on her end, but sure enough, Scotty lowered her mouth to your naked chest, peppering open-mouth kisses along your blazing skin. Your moans were already on their way out of your mouth, and by the time those caring lips swirled your right nipple, your sobs were carrying.

She suckled your breast hungrily, shoving your back up against the frosty bedroom door with a desperate hum. “God, you're so pretty. So soft, I-I can't–”

Your hard nipple was locked between her teeth, and you whined, running your fingers through her hair as the tingle the action created shot straight to your damp folds. “S-Scotty, baby... N-Need more. M-More.”

“Tell me. I’ll do anything,” She rolled your puffy bud in her anxious tongue, slobbering all over your boobs with her endless sucking, and you writhed, the sensation fogging your brain. “Fuck, baby I’ll do anything you want.”

She found the second one, nipping softly, and the feeling almost sent you to the ground. “Bed, p-please.”

Scotty held your waist, guiding you swiftly to your bed with her lips still latched to your nipples, and you were a moaning mess the entire while, whimpering her name with each step.

She stumbled, ushering you to your mattress and she sat you at the edge. “Baby I want– I-I…”

You clasped her cheeks, gazing into those starry eyes and you smiled. Electricity seemed so insignificant when Scotty's bright irises emitted such power. “Talk to me, Scotty. I know it's a lot, use your words, yeah?”

She nodded, “I just, I’ve never done it before, but fuck, I need to taste you so bad it's killing me.”

“Yes! Yes, anything you need, please!” Your response was rushed, bellowing out of you like a dangerous wind of want.

Her hands were on the waistband of your shorts then, grabbing greedily at the hem in the darkness. Everything about the way she moved showed desperation, and it was the hottest thing you'd been subjected to witnessing. It took Scotty longer than necessary to get your bottoms off, and once they hit your ankles, she whimpered. “N-No panties? God, what are you doing to me?”

She nestled her face into your thigh, taking a moment to admire your shiny dripping folds in the darkness. “You're so wet already.”

“Only for you. Please…” You sprawled wider, showing off your leaking pussy to the salivating girl before you, and she allowed herself to blink for the first time in minutes. It was a brief one; Scotty refused to take her eyes off the cunt she made wet.

“Can I? Please tell me I can put my mouth on you. Need t-to hear you say it.” Hot lips sucking on your inner thighs made you shudder as you searched your brain for those words she sought off your lips. It was hard, talking this much when all you wanted was to feel her tongue steeping in your slick.

Her lips were on your waist, kissing you delicately, sucking your supple skin in attempts to coax consent out your throat, “Baby… say it. Say it, please.”

She begged so sweetly, never had you heard such a simple request coated in that much vulnerability. Your fingers found her hair, and you nodded, dragging her head to your center. “Put your fucking mouth on me, Scotty.”

That initial stroke of her tongue packed a punch that knocked you straight into your purple sheets as you released a guttural cry, feeling her hungry fingers trail your convulsing stomach. “Oh my god!”

Her sucks were masterful, the sensation of Scotty trapping your clit between her tender lips snatching the air from your lungs. You wanted to moan, wanted to cry her name as her sucks built you up, but you couldn't. All sound was trapped in your throat as you let your tears slip silently with Scotty’s tongue inside your depths.

It was all a dream, an overwhelming dream, except it wasn't. This was real life, the lapping at your dripping core was happening in real-time. And she made sure you knew that; there had been no taunting, no edging, Scotty went right for it, slurping your honey-coated folds as though it were her only purpose. “S-Scotty…”

“Is it good? Am I doing good?”

“Fuck s-so damn good. Perfect.” You pushed your hot cunt harder into her face, and Scotty breathed you in deep, neglecting oxygen as she chose to bury herself in your spilling juices. “Just like that! Ooh just like that!”

“Like this?” The languid strokes against your excited bud sent you soaring, small whines tumbling from your lips as you nodded in approval, relaxing into the pressure.

Your tears rolled down your face as you reveled in the way your pussy accepted Scotty's starved mouth, your body finally receiving the attention you knew she deserved.

“You taste so good, can't believe you're this wet for me.”

“Oh, Scotty, baby, every drop is for you. Only you make me this wet! Only you!” You were gonna come soon, that dangerous tongue of hers luring your climax from her hiding place deep within you. She crept up slowly; shy and unsure, but the second eager fingers slipped into your pulsing hole, she exposed herself, and the spasming force of pleasure she harbored.

“Fuck! Oh! Oh! Scotty, I'm coming please, don't stop! Please please please, baby, don't stop!” You squirmed as your orgasm hit, flailing desperately as you screamed Scotty's name over, and over, and over. Her free hand found your wet nipple, squeezing, tugging as she continued to lick, and suck you through the pleasure rush, never once taking her eyes off your body's reaction to her touch. “God, baby, wait, wait, I-I can't!”

She shook her head as she allowed her tongue to replace her fingers inside you, “Not done.” Her mission being to drink in every drop, every trickle of your cum, the sap from the fruit she was forbidden to have. Scotty knew it would be too much for you, but stopping herself wasn't an option, so you would just have to take it.

Your pleading clit palpated against her taste buds, shivering the longer she licked, but you would rather be rendered unconscious before you denied Scotty access to your wetness.

“M’gonna make you come again.” Her tongue swirled your entrance, pushing in and out, in and out as she swallowed everything your pussy expelled, your fractured whines only egging her on.

You nodded, eyes spinning, as you began to let yourself plummet, tangling in your sheets from the overstimulation. “Make me come again b-baby! I only w-wanna come for you, Scotty!”

“Are you mine?” Scotty's hand left your nipple, fingertips grazing your quivering abdomen on their way down to spread your pussy lips as she devoured you.

Your hips jerked. She was so desperate, her words pulling on that second release, and you braced your shaking body for impact. “Yes, I'm all yours Scotty.” You’d always been hers.

One last thrust of her tongue broke that dam holding back your raining orgasm, and you squirted in her face, groaning long and loud as your toes curled and your heels dug into her shoulder blades.

“You sound so p-pretty. So gorgeous.”

Your chest heaved, and your vision was damn near nonexistent, small flames doing what they could to anchor you. But you saw her, you saw Scotty: her pretty smile as she emerged from your deepness, the way both loads of your cum decorated her lips, and the way she licked them clean before climbing up the bed to hover above you.

“Are you okay? You aren't talking to me.” You wanted to, but the mist in your mind eliminated every word you knew. Every word except those three. They existed on your tongue, brash in their fight to escape, but you refused to be bested, even in this fragile state. “Baby? Where are you, talk to me, please. Need to know you're alright.”

“Mmm.” It was small, barely audible, and it did not suffice for Scotty.

She cupped your face, loving as ever, and those deep, lust-filled eyes bore into your drooping ones, “Hey.”

“H-Hi.” You gave her a weak smile, still floating, barely conscious and she kissed you softly.

Scotty swooped your braids out of your face when she pulled back, marveling at your blown irises under the moonlight seeping through your cracked curtains. You’d forgotten about the rain, but the scattered showers hadn't forgotten you. They demanded you shut your eyes and drift, and they somehow managed to get Scotty onboard. “I think you're done for the night, yeah?”

This rattled your heart, the idea that she would stop touching you and you shot up breathlessly with a stern head shake. “No! No, I n-need to f-feel you, wanna m-make you come t-too.”

Her blush was instant, “I don't wanna make this about me, this is about you, I just want to take care of you.”

“It’s about us, Scotty,” You pulled her in for a deep kiss, tugging at her flannel. “T-Take this o-off.”

A smile covered her lips and she pushed off you to strip. You were propped up on your elbows as you watched her, a smirk hanging on your mouth as your butterflies attacked your insides. Scotty reached for her briefs, but you stopped her, “Wait! Let me just… take you in for a minute? Just wanna s-see you.”

You’d waited your entire life to have a naked Vivienne Scott all to yourself, and you'd be damned if you wasted even a second of this glorious moment.

Scotty chuckled nervously, standing before you in her sports bra and boxers, wrestling with the desire to hug her middle and you frowned. “Scotty, do you know how fucking gorgeous you are? God, it's overwhelming.”

“Thank y-you.” She slipped her underwear down and you moaned at the sight of her pretty pussy. Dripping and glimmering, just begging to be consumed, and you licked your lips at the thought of being buried between those thighs of hers as you took her to heaven with your tongue.

“Come here.” You beckoned her forth with a lone digit, and she pulled her bra off before allowing your call to draw her in. She climbed you, settling her waist between your open legs as she peered down at your mess, then back to your eyes. “See what you do to me, Viv? Only you can m-make me come that hard.”

Your confession made her blush, and she buried her head in the crook of your neck shyly, “You can't say that, god I don't know how to take stuff like that.”

The waves from her giggle as she pressed her lips to your neck tickled you, and it made you grin. “You're so cute, but it's true.”

“Can I kiss you?” The question was her way of shifting the subject, and you laughed at her bashfulness before agreeing, pulling her lips to yours eagerly. “You feel so good under me.”

“I wanna feel you against me, Scotty.”

•••

Your right leg hung over Scotty's left, hips rolling skillfully into hers as you allowed her soft clit to knock tenderly against your own. She brushed your stomach as you rode her pussy in the dark, eyes glued to the meshing happening at your equally slippery cores. “Oh, Scotty, feels so good, fuck! God!”

A blissed-out Scotty lived only in your dreams, sweating and panting from the pleasure you caused her, moaning your name as you humped her cunt with yours until she was spilling all over you. Never had you thought a reality such as this could exist, and the sensation of finally living it had you bawling above her as she groped your bouncing boobs. “So good baby, I can't–”

She too was crying below you, overwhelmed by the pleasure created when your clits kissed. “Come for me, Scotty. Oh my god, come all over me, wanna feel all of it.”

“You're so stunning, so beautiful. My beautiful girl.” You’d been keeping count of the many times she'd called you hers all night, and the sound of those words falling from her lips coupled with your tired bud pressing into hers numbed your mind.

You gripped the back of her thigh, feeling its warmth, its dampness as you slipped your pussy against her swelling folds, ears welcoming the slick sounds of your melding cores. Each squish, each splash, pulled on Scotty's release, and it delighted you, the idea that she was in this state because of you. Scotty was going to come because of you. “Your pussy is so pretty Scotty, the prettiest. Can't believe I'm about to make her come. Please come for me!”

“Yes baby, I'm close, you're gonna make me come!” Her protruding clit knocked into your erect one and you screeched, the pads of your fingers leaving impressions on her soft skin. You felt your cum trickle from inside you, seeping onto Scotty's sex, nice and warm as it lubricated your desperate jolts. Your pussy was made to mold with hers, your releases serving as the nectar of your love, fusing you to her, thick and sticky and everlasting.

As the storm outside your windows intensified, so did the passion blooming in your bedroom; the spluttering rain was no match for the wet sounds created by the loving collision of your dripping cunts.

She was breathless, eyes rolling as she gnawed on her dry lips and you smiled, noticing a bead of sweat running down her erratic chest.

You leaned forward, grinding never faltering, and you licked it, absorbing her perspiration with your thirsty tongue. Scotty’s body convulsed at the feeling of your tastebuds grazing her abs, and you trailed a long line of spit up her middle, to the space between her boobs before pulling the left one into your mouth. “Oh yes… so good, feels amazing, keep doing that.”

“Come on my pussy Scotty, don't hold anything back. You deserve it, baby, please.” You mumbled with her hard bud trapped between your teeth.

“I'm, I’m, fuck baby w-wait– I'm coming all over you! I-I…” And her hips rolled faster, her breathing grew harsher and Scotty arched off the bed, moaning a long gurgle of your name, and it was this that exorcized the spirit of your orgasm from your own trembling being, hips sticking and stuttering as you felt the warmth of Scotty's cum pouring out of her and onto you.

She jerked underneath you, involuntarily striking your exhausted clit and the pair of you hissed from the hurt. You wanted to stay that way, keep her there, gasping for air as her head swam in her rapid release, eyes dazed and dark with her breathing inevitably mirroring your quiet huffs. Your cunts and thighs were a mess, cum coating your bodies as it drizzled down your interlock limbs. After a while it became indiscernible, whose juices belonged to who, but you didn't care, because you liked it that way, you loved it that way.

Scotty was an extension of you, your pleasure an extension of her own.

“That was amazing, baby, I-I, Th-thank you. I…”

You kissed her forehead, pulling her in as she caught her breath, and you smiled into her damp eyes. “Scotty, I need you to f-fuck me.”

“I d-don't,” You felt her tense, and her panic set in. “I’ve n-never–”

You pecked her, nibbling her bottom lip before pulling away, “S’okay. I’ll show you how I like it, just please, I need it. I need you.”

“I’ll do whatever you want.”

•••

“It's okay baby.” You were holding Scotty's face as she hovered above you, your trembling thighs widening to grant her entrance. As dark as it was, your slickness beamed brightly in the lack of light, shining only for her.

You pulled her in, ignoring her spilling tears as you planted a kiss on those delicate lips of hers. “I trust you, and I know you won't hurt me.”

Scotty nodded, gripping the head of the strap in her shaking fist as she rubbed it up against your achy clit, pulling on a hiss that prickled your eyes. “Scotty, I–”

The sensation was a lot; too much, and the building friction of the sensual assault on your bud had you weeping once more. “I know baby, I know. I just… Please let me rub it here for a little while,” Scotty used her hips now, avoiding your awaiting hole as she pushed the slicked toy through your tired folds, your clit throbbing beneath each glide. “You're so wet, I just wanna hear it, okay? Just wanna rub it against you.”

You could come from this: the pain, the pleasure, every emotion Scotty unlocked inside of you. But you were fighting it, battling that creeping crack deep down, because you wanted your last orgasm to consume you with the love of your life submerged in your canal.

She kissed you, guzzling your warm tears sitting on your puffy lips, “Please tell me you're wet for me. Tell me I can put it in, please?”

“S-So wet for you Scotty, please put it in, I need you, baby, need you so bad it fucking hurts.”

She wasted no time sinking into your searing heat after that, making you sob upon delivery, and you pulled her closer. Your nipples grazed hers with each of her ruts as your sopping cunt sucked her in, and she moaned in unison with you at the sudden contact. Her open mouth was on your wet cheek, pecking you as she filled you, stuffing your hollowed bones with a syrupy salve contrived of pure ecstasy. Her long, laggard strokes did away with that gorgeous ache you'd grown to love.

You just felt her — Scotty’s essence existed everywhere.

She was deep, bottoming out with the sexiest grunt you'd ever heard. The feeling of being stretched out around her as she worked your hole warped your mind, and you lost your grip on reality the higher she took you, something she sensed as she studied your contorting features. “Baby, b-baby, stay with m-me, eyes on me, okay?”

“I know. I'm g-good, keep doing it like that. Fuck me d-deeper. Need to feel all of you.”

Scotty swatted your watering orbs, rocking into your g-spot with all the care in the world, eyes swallowed black like the night sky as she spread your worn-out cunt with precision. “You're so precious, I-I don't want to ruin you.”

“Ruin me Scotty. Fucking ruin me.” Wet eyes clouded your vision, blurring the distant flicker of your candle’s waning flames as the sound of Scotty fucking you filled the room. Though gentle, her drives held power, sending tsunami-level waves of exhilaration through your cells. You could feel your pussy blooming wider as she drilled you into your creaking bed, and you inhaled the prominent aroma of Mulberry and Vanilla dancing in your room, allowing it to lull you.

Staccato thrusts tore you apart with each loving jolt, electrifying you as you wailed in her arms. Scotty was breaking you just so she could mend you. “You're doing amazing, s-so perfect. Don't cry baby, I'm taking care of you. Does that feel good?”

"G-Good."

She nestled into your bruised neck, inhaling you deep with grunts that made you quake. “Thank you for letting me take care of you, s’all I’ve ever w-wanted, baby.”

“I-I…” Your throat burned from all the crying, and you gripped tightly to her rolling shoulders, pulling her impossibly closer to your barren skin. “I love you, Scotty.”

Three little words. You’d been battling them all night, warring with them all your life, and tonight they emerged victorious. Their might surpassed your own in this state, frail and fucked out, floating aimlessly on your many billows of bliss. So you spit them out, and without hesitation, Scotty drank them, allowing her slow thrusts to gain speed as though your declaration were fueling her.

“I love you too. I love y-you s’much. You mean everything to me, you're m-mine.”

“I’m y-yours, Scotty. Only yours.” She bit your neck, hard, pulling on your hot wells, and you watched them drizzle down her bare back, mirroring the raindrops racing one another down your fogged windows.

“Please come for me. Please, please, need you to come with me inside you baby, you're so beautiful when you come, sound s-so pretty.”

You nodded weakly, already feeling that tensing band deep within. It wrapped around itself, stiffening — toughening into a coil whose demise was inevitable with the way Scotty fucked into the creamy chasm of your cunt. And you felt your walls narrow, clenching the strap and holding it in place the second she pressed the tip into your overstimulated nerves. You came then, eyes rolling like the thunder stifling your scream as your red nails punctured Scotty's flesh.

Her hips stammered when she knocked them into yours, and she used your throat as a silencer, grunting lowly into your sticky skin, weeping as you were from her own approaching climax. “I'm, I'm, b-baby I’m coming. Please, let m-me, I wan-wanna, Can I…”

You huffed, exhaustion treading through your body as you pursed your lips to kiss her head, “Let it out, Scotty. Give it to me, yeah? I love you so much, you make me feel so fucking good baby.”

Your name leapt from her stomach with one last push, and she whimpered softly into your ear, panting like a dog. “I love y-you.”

You were barely awake when Scotty eased her way out of your used walls, and you squirmed, feeling your hole clench around the absence of her stretch. You cried still, body vanquished by the thrill of the entire ordeal. Her lips pillowed your wet face tenderly before she rolled beside you, the pair of you exhaling on the same breath as the rain comforted your weariness.

Scotty said nothing, and her prolonged silence forced your mind to wander. Had she regretted the sex? Had she regretted you? Did she truly love you as you loved her? You wept heavier now, sniffling in the darkness, “I-I guess… I guess y-you should get going now. Don't w-wanna get cau–”

“Did y-you mean it?”

Your turn in the sheets was immediate, words steeped in admiration as you spoke, “I meant all of it, Viv.”

“Me too.”

You exhaled, mustering the courage to request to hear it again. “Can… I wanna hear you say it again. Please? Tell me again.”

Scotty did away with that practiced stutter, welcoming confidence into her confession. “I love you.”

“And I love you. Deeply, entirely, and unequivocally, Vivienne Scott.”

She sighed, and you detected her wavering assurance in the brush of her fingers when she stroked your side, “I-I w-want to be yours.”

You kissed her, sipping the fervor raining from her swollen lips as you permitted her respire to enter your being, melting the ache you once thought to be eternal. “You're mine.”

•••

Getting Scotty up and dressed proved to be exceedingly difficult. Rain still poured, the lights were still out and you were certain her absence would be questioned eventually. So she needed to be gone. “Baby, please, I don't wanna leave you. Just one more kiss? Last one please, please!”

Fuck… She deserved it. You wanted her to have it, but there was no time. You knew your brother well, and you had no plans of dealing with his scolding tonight if caught, not after the experience you and his best friend just shared. You wanted to allow yourself time to float on your high. But Scotty wanted one more kiss, and her lips were morphine. “Okay. One, Scotts, just one.”

“One.”

You pecked her, guiding her to the door and she whined into your throat, forcing you to swallow the heat it pushed out, and the gust shocked every last one of your nerves. You reached for the knob, lips still locked, and you pulled the door open. “You have to go.”

She giggled, stealing another peck before stepping into the hallway, flannel bunched in her fists, belt still unbuckled.

“Bye.” She said it, but her feet had yet to move, and all you could do was smile.

“I love you so much.” You pulled her in again, kissing her deeper, fuller, and it was you who moaned aloud this time as you fumbled with her belt buckle, wanting to clasp it for her, but fighting the urge of falling to your knees.

Her lips hovered over yours, sweeping, ghosting, and heating your feverish skin, “I lov–”

“Scotts, you still up here? I don't think you're gonna get that fuse fixed mate, the whole–” Your brother looked up from his phone, shining his flashlight down the dark hallway, and directly into your faces. “Yo, man what the fuck?!”

[inthe-dark-tonight]

Falling Into My Sins

chapter five: cling to the memory

dbf!joel x fem!reader series - loosely inspired by the song skin by soccer mommy

chapter 1 chapter 2 chapter 3 chapter 4

summary: you go out to dinner with your friends to fill them in about the mystery man from the bar and run into some unexpected company.

word count: 3.2k

series rating: E (18+ mdni)

warnings: no outbreak AU, age gap (reader is in their 20s, Joel is in his 40s) no use of y/n, more tommy and reader flirting, slight angst/confrontation, alcohol consumption, joel only being a bit of a menace (for now), if i’m missing anything let me know <3

notes: this is a bit of a filler chapter but we’re setting up some future plot points okay!! stick with me please!! i swear there will be some really good drama in the next chapter. thank you @javiscigarette ,my love, for beta reading and also helping me come up with the most diabolical plot ideas for this fic xo. and thank you @ilovepedro for reading this chapter over for me and giving me some input ilysm bby<3

A few days have passed since your date with Tommy, and the kiss. You knew it was wrong, you only kissed him to try and get back at Joel. At least that’s what you’re trying to convince yourself. You haven’t seen either of the brothers since that night, and Tommy only reached out to see how you were feeling the next day. 

You decided to make plans with your friends tonight after they wouldn’t stop bugging you for an update on the mystery man from your night out. As you leave to meet them for dinner and drinks, your eyes linger on Joel’s house noticing that his truck isn’t in the driveway tonight. 

You picked up Dee first, then Aya and started to make your way downtown. You all agreed to have dinner at your favorite local restaurant, the Attic.

“You have to tell us, did you ever see him again!?” Aya asks. “We’re dying to know.” 

You let out a small laugh before answering. “I think I need a drink before I can get into it.” You let out a sigh, drifting off into thoughts of that night in the bar and meeting Joel for the first time. You see the two of them exchange a look from the corner of your eye before their gaze falls back on you. 

“That bad?” Dee asks hesitantly.

You purse your lips and push the thoughts to the back of your head as you pull into a parking spot. “Yeah, that bad.” 

“I haven’t been here in ages,” Aya states as you put the car in park. 

“Me either.” you glance back at her in the rear view mirror and smile, grabbing your purse and unbuckling before reaching for the door handle. 

You step out and meet them at the back of the car before walking towards the restaurant. The sun is setting and the air is starting to cool down now as the three of you walk towards the entrance. The host seats you at a booth against the back wall of the restaurant and you all settle in, taking a look at the drink menu. 

“How's the new job?” Aya asks as you all flip through the menu. 

“Well,” you're unsure how to start. “It’s not bad, I actually work tomorrow night.” You know that you'll have to tell them about Joel showing up at your job with a date at some point, just not right now. “What about you guys?”

“Nothing really new or exciting…” Dee starts before the waiter comes to the table to ask your drink order. 

The three of you order margaritas to start and the waiter brings out chips with your drinks. You chat for a couple minutes, sipping on your drinks as you finalize your orders. After you're a little more than halfway through your first drinks he comes back to take your food orders, and you finally feel ready to talk. You can tell they've been trying not to bring it up ever since you sat down.

“Okay, are you ready?” you smile at them letting out a small laugh.

“Yes, I can't wait any longer.” Aya huffs dramatically as she rolls her eyes in a joking manner. “So you saw him again?”

You laugh and take a deep breath before answering. “Yeah, I did see him again.” you look down at your drink and play with your straw as you wait for their next question. 

“Okay and? How did it go?” Dee asks excitedly.

“Did you find out his name? Did he take you out?” Aya adds in eagerly. 

“Well, um,” you glance back up at them. “Not exactly.” you let out a nervous laugh as they both stare back at you in anticipation. “I saw him again at dinner… at my dads house.”

Both of their eyes shoot open wide in surprise. “What do you mean?” Aya asks cautiously.

“It turns out he's my dads best friend… and neighbor.” you pause, giving them a moment to process before you continue. “My dad had told me that he invited his friend over for Sunday night dinner, I never met him before this, and when he walked in it was him. The mystery man.” You take a deep breath. “His name’s joel.”

“Oh my god.” Dee says, mouth falling open. 

“That's not even the worst of it.” They just stare at you in silence as you prepare for the next part. “After we had dinner we talked a bit and, uh,” you take another sip of your drink before going on, trying to calm your nerves. “We had sex.” 

You get interrupted by the waiter bringing out your food. Both girls are still in shock as the waiter sets your plates down. “Thank you.” you mutter as he steps away. 

Once he’s gone, Dee finally speaks. “Did I hear you correctly?” she's just staring at you. 

“Yeah, we had sex… behind my fathers house.” They both blink at you. “I told him before it happened that I understood if he didn't want to see me again, that if he wanted to end things it was okay with me. I mean the last thing I expected was for him to be my dads new best friend, but he said he didn't want to end things.” you sigh. 

“So you guys are like, seeing each other now?” Aya asks, finishing off her margarita.

You bite at your lip and let out a stiff laugh. “No, we're not.” you clear your throat and grab your fork. “We made plans for later that week before he came over that night, but he ghosted me after Sunday night dinner.” You take a bite of your food.

“Oh my… You're joking right?” Dee scoffs. You swallow your food and shake your head. “What the fuck…”

“Yeah so that happened.” You rub your cheek, thinking before you tell them the next part. “Then the first night at my new job his brother, Tommy, came into the diner and we were talking for a bit. Maybe 30 minutes later Joel walks in. With a girl.” You look up at them, both completely invested in your story. “So I confronted him about ghosting me, we argued, he kissed me, and then his brother asked me out…” 

Dee almost spits out her drink after the last part. “This is insane, did you go out with his brother?” 

“Yeah, you're telling me.” You take a sip of your drink, finishing it off. “I did, and he’s really sweet. Picked me up, taught me how to play pool,” you find yourself smiling. “but Joel was there.” 

“Is this guy just everywhere? My god.” Aya adds in. 

You chuckle at her comment. “We talked again that night. He was flirting with another girl at the bar but when I went outside to get some air he followed me.” You stop, zoning out for a moment. The memory floods back as you retell the story. “It’s weird, I feel some kind of pull towards him but… I don’t know. I think he’s just a player. Actually, I know he is. It was just a fuck to him, those were his own words.” 

“God… sounds like an asshole to me,” Aya rolls her eyes and glances over at Dee. “Tell us more about his brother, what was his name?” She takes another bite. 

“Tommy,” you smile while saying his name. “Yeah um, I ended up kissing him at the end of our date.”

“You kissed him?” Dee’s eyes practically pop out of her head. “Damn.” She shakes her head in disbelief. 

“Yeah yeah,” you wave your hand in front of you. “It was wrong I know, I think part of me only did it to make Joel jealous.” You look away, a bit embarrassed after admitting that. 

“Well what did Tommy say after the kiss?” Aya asks, resting her elbows on the table and leaning in closer. “Was it a good kiss?” 

“Well first I apologized on the drive home because the kiss was a little abrupt, but it was good. He said it was okay that I kissed him.” You bite at your lip. “He hasn’t really reached out since then though, only to check on me the next day, and neither have I.” 

“Why not? It seems like he’s actually into you.” Dee says. 

“Unlike his brother.” Aya shoots you a glance. “I say forget about Joel and go for his brother.” 

“I’m just not sure if I like him like that, it would be wrong to lead him on.” You play with your fork while you think about what Aya just said. 

“You’ve only gone out with him once, how do you know for sure you’re not into him?” She shrugs. 

“I guess you’re right.” You hum. “I don’t know though.” 

“Just think about it.” Aya shoots you a devious smile. 

You laugh, putting your fork down and placing your hands on your lap. “I’ll be right back guys.”

You get up from the booth and start towards the restroom, you really just need a breather after spilling all of that. You walk past a handful of booths feeling a little tipsy as you go, then turn down the hallway and push open the black door to the bathroom. You step in and walk towards the row of sinks lined in front of a mirror, staring at yourself in the reflection before turning on the water. As you run your hands under the water and grab some soap, your eyes stay on your reflection and you take a deep breath. 

I can’t believe I just told them all of that, you think to yourself. It all feels unreal. You’ll probably take their advice and text Tommy back tonight, they did have a point. He’s into you and Joel isn’t, that’s just the facts. 

You reach to turn off the water and grab a paper towel before taking one last look at yourself in the mirror. You  throw the paper towel into the waste bin and reach for the door handle. As soon as you step into the hallway you run into someone nearly falling over before they grab your arms, catching you as you place your hands on their chest. 

“Woah there.” You’d recognize that voice anywhere. You look up to find Joel Miller holding you against him. 

“Joel!” You immediately pull back, releasing yourself from his grip. “Hi-” 

He was the last person you were expecting to see, especially after you were just calling him a player to your friends over dinner. What were the odds of him being here at the same time as you, you know that you live in the same town but it’s like you can’t escape him. 

“Hey.” He offers you a small smile and glances down the hallway. “What are you doin’ here?” His eyes fall back on you as he waits for an answer. 

“Um, I’m having dinner with some friends,” you straighten yourself out, suddenly feeling nervous. “Girls night.” You take a deep breath and his scent fills your senses. 

“Hm. Nice.” You look back up at him, preparing to walk back to your friends when he takes a step closer to you. He runs a hand through his hair before speaking again, and your heart leaps into your throat. “Hey uh, I’ve been wanting to talk to you actually-“ 

You take a small step back from him, panicking and trying to keep a fair distance between the two of you. “Maybe another time, Joel. I gotta get back.” His face falls as you turn back towards the end of the hallway and make your way back to the booth. 

What makes him think you would honestly want to talk to him,what would he even have to say? You don't care anyway. As you walk back you frantically glance around the restaurant. You’re assuming Joel’s here on another date until your eyes land on Tommy sitting in a booth diagonal from yours and a little further down. His back is to you and Sarah is there as well. Shit. Both brothers are here. You get to your booth, turning around and sliding into your seat as quickly as possible. 

“Guys, don’t make a big scene please.” You slouch down in your seat. “Joel’s here with Tommy and his daughter, I just ran into him while leaving the bathroom.” 

“Where?” They both lean in closer. 

“Behind me, to your left.” As soon as you finish saying it, Aya’s head snaps towards the table. Dee waits a moment before also glancing their way. “Aya!” You smack her hand playfully. “I said don’t make a scene.” 

“Oh my god!” She whispers, eyes still locked on Tommy sitting at the booth. “His brother is gorgeous.” She smirks. 

While Dee and Aya ogle at Tommy, you notice Joel walking back. His eyes lock onto yours immediately as you watch him make his way to Tommy. You can’t imagine what he wanted to talk to you about, there’s nothing to even talk about. And if he wants to talk about what happened with Tommy, it’s none of his business anyway. Once Joel walks past you, you snap out of it and look back at Aya and Dee. 

Aya leans in and whispers. “That’s Joel?” She looks past you at the booth where they’re all sitting and you nod to confirm. “Wow, they’re both gorgeous.” She smirks, looking back at you.

“Oh god.” Dee snaps her head back towards you. “They saw us.” 

“Are you serious?” You slowly turn to look towards the booth and both brothers are looking towards you. “Fuck.” You turn back in shock to look at the girls again. This can’t be happening.

“It’s okay, what’s the worst that could happen?” Dee says, causing you to let out a nervous laugh. 

“Guys, I need to get out of here.” Your chest is starting to feel tight, they both definitely saw you.

The waiter walks past and Aya flags him over to the table. “We’re ready for the check please.” She smiles up at him before he walks away. 

You start to dig in your purse for some cash as the waiter comes back and sets the check on your table. Immediately you set your cash on top of the check and wait for the two girls to do the same, then you feel a presence beside you. Aya looks up behind you, eyes going wide and you turn to see what she’s looking at. You find Tommy Miller standing to your right, one hand in his pocket as he smiles down at you. 

“Hi.” He says softly. 

“Tommy.” You’re breathless. “Hi, what are you doing here?” You’re trying your best to sound genuine. 

“Just out to dinner with Joel and Sarah.” He glances at your two friends and back to you. 

“Oh uh, Tommy these are my friends Aya and Dee.” You turn towards them. “This is my neighbor, Tommy.”  You raise your brows at them and they both give him a small wave. You turn back towards him and he nods in their direction before giving you his attention. “We’re just having a girls night, we were about to leave.” You smile. 

“Nice, well uh,” his hand rubs at the back of his neck. “Text me when you get home? I mean, only if you want…” 

“Yeah, I will.” You clutch your purse as he smiles down at you again. 

He looks at your friends again. “Nice to meet you ladies.” He winks at you before walking back towards the booth where Joel and Sarah are seated. 

You let out a deep sigh and glance over your shoulder as Tommy walks back. Joel’s staring at you, a deep crease between his brows as he watches you, eyes falling on Tommy as he scoots into the booth. Tommy turns around to look your way one last time and your eyes meet for a moment. 

“Let’s get out of here,” you turn to the girls. “Please.” 

You all get up from the booth and you practically sprint out of there. As you open the door to go outside, Aya’s arm loops around yours and she lets out a little shriek. 

“What a heartthrob! You better text him when you get home.” She leans into you and you all laugh as you approach the car. 

“I will.” You give her a genuine smile before walking towards the driver's side and pulling open your door. 

After dropping off Dee and Aya, you find yourself thinking about Joel as you pull into your driveway. Your skin tingles as you think about the way he grabbed you when you ran into him, and the way he watched you as he walked past you keeps replaying in your mind. 

Your phone vibrates as you put your car in park, you grab your purse and dig around for it. Tommy had told you to text him when he got home, you’re assuming he decided to text you instead. When you pull out your phone, the message that pops up on the screen isn’t from Tommy. It’s from Joel. 

Hey, I was really hoping we could talk. Maybe tomorrow night? If you’re free. 

You scoff at the text, ignoring it as you unlock your phone and immediately go to your messages to text Tommy. 

Hi, are you free on Friday?

You send it before you can overthink it and bite at your nail before grabbing your purse from the seat beside you, then you feel your phone go off again. You eagerly open the message from Tommy. 

Yeah, let me take you out. I’ll pick you up around 8. 

A smile spreads across your face as you read the message, and the comments your friends made at dinner play through your head again. He’s actually into you, unlike Joel. 

Perfect, see you then :) 

You shove your phone back into your purse and reach for the car door. Once you step through your front door, you run up your stairs, a smile still plastered on your face from Tommy’s text. You close your bedroom door and throw your purse on your bed as you walk towards your window. As you grab your curtains to close them, you see Joel’s truck pulling into his driveway across the street. 

You stand there frozen for a moment, watching as he parks the car. Sarah gets out first and Joel tosses her the keys as she runs to the front door, Joel closes the car door as he watches her. He lingers there for a moment, hand resting on his truck until Sarah is inside. As soon as the front door closes, Joel turns his head and looks towards your house. You just watch him from your window, hoping the darkness hides your silhouette. You swear you can almost see a hint of a smirk on his face as you pull your curtains shut. 

That night your mind lingers towards thoughts of Joel until you fall asleep. 

thank you for reading!! feel free to leave comments or asks about your thoughts, and reblogs are appreciated :)

tag list and some moots: @ilovepedro @isitmeulookin4 @joelsversion @nostalxgic @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @gracieheartspedro @jenispunk @javiscigarette @pedropascalfan221 @mellymbee @kaybee181520 @joeldjarin @akah565 @chefchy4 @untamedheart81 @eliza-8 @fellinfromthetop @znerac let me know if you wanna be added :)

[etrevil]

skk that got married for a mission (that didn't need them to get legally bound but they did it either way) as teens in the mafia, and now, years later, Chuuya is fed up with Dazai being unsanitary while "temporarily" crashing at his apartment and demands a divorce for an indefinite period of time (aka until they're mushy-hatey with each other again).

Nikolai's the judge, Sigma's the lawyer (aka the guy trying to translate the mushy-hatey language of skk into normal words), and Fyodor's the jury with Bram and Aya. The ADA and PM are the unfortunate, unwilling witnesses to the "horribly domestic lives of Osamu Dazai and Chuuya Nakahara" and has to recount instances of them being a couple.

Ango brings out the actual paperwork for a divorce and skk glare at him like hell hath no fury comparable. Then it's offered they live apart, and both react so dramatically it's like you suggested they rip out their hearts for a day. Dazai even pulls a Victorian-lady faint. Sigma walks out at this point.

In the end, it's settled Dazai sleeps on the couch for a week.

[in-class-daydreams]

Everyone who turned against Sebastian really forgot about “There was nobody else. I came alone” huh

[lachesis-games]

What's ur favourite TV show, book and movie? 👀

Mine?? You wanna know about me??? ;-;

Movie: Dirty Dancing. The plot is excellent and the characters are amazingly multi-dimensional for the time it was made. Also the soundtrack slaps.

TV Show: Harley Quinn the animated series. Hilarious dark humor with genuine feminism. OH AND ATTACK ON TITAN. Nearly forgot about it but I'm originally a fanfiction writer and I've been working with that universe for years now and holds a special place in my heart.

Book: Super hard ask! I mostly read dating sims and IF's nowadays, not as many books but uh. The Jean Anouilh version of Antigone. Fangirl by Rainbow Rowell. Fairest by Gail Caron Levine.

[tinogiehd]

what did skull anon say

that I seem like the type who wants george and karl or george and austin to fuck now bc dream dares to know women 😒

[soupthatistohot]

BSD: An Absurdist Analysis - Ch. 114.5

Fyodor: The Unkillable Devil

[BSD Absurdism Masterpost]

So, I was mostly correct in my speculations from last month's chapter! I'm really proud of this, though I will admit that my theory wasn't a complete match to what ended up happening

I assumed that Fyodor took on the guard's lifeforce, but it was Bram who he body-swapped with, which makes for a much for interesting (and higher stakes) situation.

Admittedly, this post is going to be a bit less analysis and more me sharing my thoughts and questions, because not much has changed from what I said last month: Fyodor being practically unkillable is the ultimate absurdity for him as a villain -- how do you defeat a literally immortal super genius?

It's just made even worse now by the fact that it is Bram's body who he's "subsuming." It puts considerable distance between himself (now in Japan) and Dazai (in France), who is the only human being capable of killing him due to his nullification. This is deeply ironic in that Dazai was so goddamn close to killing Fyodor, if only he had delivered the final blow himself, he would have succeeded. That's dramatic irony for ya!

The ultimate absurdity lies within the fact that Dazai was so close to victory the entire time; Fyodor was in genuine danger throughout the whole prison break thing (because either poison or Dazai could have actually killed him), but one lapse in judgement has now left Dazai relatively powerless.

There is also absurdity in the fact that Fukuawa, Fukuchi, Aya, and Teruko are basically incapable of stopping Fyodor not only from subsuming Bram's body, but from carrying out his plan with the tripolar singularity. They don't even have enough time to enact a last-ditch effort to stop him before he stabs Fukuchi.

Jumping back to the reveal of Fyodor's ability, this chapter has left me with some questions about Fyodor's plan:

Why allow Sigma to learn of this? I see no really good reason for why Fyodor didn't kill Sigma when given the chance. The only thing I can think of is that he wanted to distract Dazai, ultimately knowing that he would eventually go back for Sigma and try to figure out why he was passed out, killing some time. Still, this doesn't really make much sense to me, as killing Sigma would have done practically the same thing. Also, at that point, there's really no reason to distract Dazai, the deed has already been done. My only other idea is that he figured that once he was able to subsume Bram, it wouldn't matter if Dazai knew about his ability, so he allowed Sigma to obtain this information in order to let Dazai know of his loss. Still, this doesn't make any strategic sense in the way that keeping Dazai in the dark for as long as possible appears to be the optimal course of action.

Does Nikolai know about Fyodor's ability? If so, it would explain the usage of the poison in the prison break challenge, given that his ultimate goal is to kill Fyodor. It might also explain why he considers them to be "besties," because he's one of very few people who know the true nature of Fyodor's ability. This is complete speculation, though, as it could really go either way.

Did Fyodor know Chuuya was faking it the whole time? Because if not, I think Chuuya was his fallback plan. If he truly believed Chuuya to be a vampire controlled by Bram, then at any point he could have ordered him to kill him, but I think the only thing that stopped him from doing so was his desperation to have Dazai killed as the only person capable of actually taking his life. If he did indeed know Chuuya was just acting, though, I wonder if he had just thought far enough ahead to know how things would go and needed Chuuya to be present to get to that conclusion. I'm really curious as to how much of this plan was actual foresight and how much was improvisation.

As for the tripolar singularity... well I think we know where that leads, given that the anime gave us a little preview to future events.

I'll admit that the concept of the singularity is one of the things I least understand about the BSD lore/universe, but this certainly raises the stakes. I might be wrong about this, but aren't there theories that somehow Akutagawa and Atsushi's abilities combined are able to supersede singularities? In this way, they'd be the only hope against Tripolar Singularity Fukuchi (which I've got to assume works much like Arahabaki in that Fukuchi is not in control anymore).

We also now can now assume that Akutagawa (and assumedly anyone else who was turned into a vampire) becomes un-vampirified because Bram ceases to exist when Fyodor takes on his body, so this explains how we get to the above situation.

That's all I got for now! Please feel free to add to my analysis and discuss the questions I've asked, I love talking about this stuff with y'all! :)

Edit: Ok so of course almost immediately upon posting this I thought of more things to add in terms of how this all relates to absurdism. The concept of Fyodor being unable to die is not only absurd from the storytelling perspective of him being BSD's ultimate villain for so long, but also on a personal level for himself.

One of humanity's defining qualities is mortality -- the idea that we all die eventually, whether we like it or not. For Fyodor, this isn't true, though. His ability is a curse that traps him into living so long as people try to kill him. This further explains his ultimate motive of wanting to eliminate all abilities, probably because he recognizes many abilities to be curses and also that abilities have potential to be abused by those in power, whether for "right" or "wrong" reasons.

The irony in this is that Fyodor is doing just that, he has used his ability to remain alive far longer than he should have, and is thus able to carry out his plans. Yes, he believes what he is doing is for the good of humanity, but as the reader, we also know that this is not his decision to make. He has become the very thing he's trying to fight! This can be seen as Fyodor giving into the absurdity of reality, rather than actually rebelling against it, which makes him the antagonist to our absurdist protagonists, who refuse to give in and continue to push back against life's absurdities.

Fyodor's problem (and I think I talked about this in the chapter where he "died") is that he wants to control the absurd reality, but that is just not possible. You can't control meaninglessness, all you can do is not become a part of it, which Fyodor fails to do in his effort to not do so. It's a complete paradox.

Hopefully what I'm saying here makes sense, I am currently running on like five hours of sleep (which not a lot for me) and black tea lol

[sweetbottletops]

“Would you still love me if I were a worm?” — Mitsuki Koga probably

Ch. 76

Koga’s original fear back before they cleared up the boy/girl misunderstanding was that Aya, who she knew was romantically interested in “Onii-san”, would be disappointed if she knew of the real her. She's the gloomy kid from school AND a girl. Not the "guy" she heard Aya crush about... even if it was her interests and personally that was winning her over too.

*flashback*

Koga was flirting with her that whole time fully aware they were both girls. Which...fruity. She liked being close to Aya in that way.

Their falling out was mended with Radiohead and resetting things to a new beginning where she could risk being herself. And while Aya has seen more sides to her they still haven't talked about the mutual attraction from before though.

*flashback*

Aya has spent all vol 2 getting comfortable with the heart flutters around Koga even at school, but they've still never had that talk.

Aya is worried she's possibly annoying Koga by wanting to be so close all the time. She day dreams it being girlfriend close. Meanwhile Koga's original fear has been triggered again.

Back when this all started Koga was not trying to pick up girls as "Onii-san" or even to pass as a dude outside of the stray "boku" after it started. It came as a surprise to her when Aya set her sights on her and fell in love with the shop "guy" because of their shared interest, her appearance, AND mutual attraction.

At the moment it seems like a simple thing to her. It's because it's cool. She's just being herself. She's Joe's mini-me. And while it's been a firm, non-negotiable thing since she was little it also doesn't seem like something she's uncertain about at the moment either. "But I'm just me..." Self-esteem issues aside, she knows who she is.

Wanting to be enough (*cough* Kenough) for Aya when she is competing with an imagined "Onii-san" is a unique way of having a love triangle. She got an earful about Aya's feelings for Onii-san while in school... she knows Aya's type in detail from back then and hasn't gotten the updated Aya OS that includes all of her.

Oh, honey. (Aya is so cute in Koga!Vision.)

Koga feeling things is actually good, but she noped out of feelings for about six years and she's a teenager so this is now DRAMATIC. And possibly a medical episode. Or maybe love. Or she needs to drink some water.

Aya fending off her brother with the reverse face palm / phone grip. What a pro. It's interesting this "Onii-san" came up with her brother in frame. Her brothers both have to be reminded Koga is a girl and she's had to tell her mom that too. She is fine with Koga being a girl. She's not trying to pass Koga as a boy at home even if her family instinctively knows the place Koga is fitting in Aya's life is like one.

I wonder "who" Aya will meet when she picks Koga up for her transit pass and school. Is their dynamic going to be different?

[sskk-manifesto]

Okay but by the way they framed it, it feels like Bram with his radio talk was being dramatic (silly) on purpose to cheer Aya up after he saw her cry. This episode was so cute