3 Works by avenberry
Listing Works
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Summary
Dreaming about her feels illegal and Carmilla tries not to let herself linger in them. She’s usually better at keeping them at bay but when she’s exhausted like this, broken down and raw to the touch, she can’t help it. So, when she collapsed into bed not fifteen minutes ago and hadn’t had the foresight to beat her imagination into submission before letting her eyes slip closed, this is the resulting punishment: beautiful, lovely, impossible dreams about Laura.
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Kyle tracks Kenny to an alleyway between the optometrist and the dollar store, not that it's all that difficult; the trail of wet, crimson blood is a dead giveaway. It should’ve been busy, right off Main like that, but it’s strangely peaceful if you ignore the lingering smell of garbage, rat shit, and cigarettes. Kyle’s nose wrinkles as he steps over a stray banana peel. Fucking disgusting.
And there, behind the dumpster, is Kenny, smoking a cigarette with a sour look on his face. Kyle cracks a little grin and saunters over, stepping into the growing puddle of blood with no regard. He crouches down to be eye level with Kenny and rests his arms on his knees, his chin on his arms. “Hey, Kenny,” he murmurs, soft and playful and altogether fairly inappropriate considering the situation.
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Stan and Kyle walk into a bar, then promptly back out to light up.
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Stan was heavy, dense, warm, and so, so close. His arms wrapped tightly around his waist and squeezed Kyle that much closer. Kyle felt his pulse skyrocket as he lit the joint on the first try and pulled a shallow inhale, holding it in his lungs and letting his full weight fall back into Stan’s steady, broad chest. As Kyle exhaled, he let his head fall back to rest on his shoulder, pretty curls tickling Stan’s chin.