#HAD TO SHOVE IN A THING FOR BARBS CAUSE LETS FACE IT

[jmkho]

The One Where They Did An Album Lore Podcast

Summary: The boys decide to talk about some of the lore behind TBAGG.

Words: 3k LMAO NOT 14K IM AN IDIOT

Warnings: swearing, drinking, talking over each other, gums smacking lol, questionable lore,

Extra note: Thanks to @starcatcherkiszka for sending me a msg asking if I could write this. And also to the OP of the picture that was attached about the guys doing a lore podcast. I tried my best to add some crack into it but also squint hard at what I've written about the songs these are just notes I myself have come up with after listening to each song and looking over the lyrics a lot to try and write something lol so don't take this seriously it's just ramblings of a mad woman.

“Well boys, I think we should at least introduce what we are doing.” Danny spoke into the mic as he looked around to the others. He smiled. To say he was excited was an understatement. 

“Well, I think as the best speaker among us…well, yeah, all of us, I think I, the ever so eloquent, Josh, should, well , you know, should tell the people, the fans, what we are doing today,” 

Sam, who was sat opposite him, opened his mouth to say something to that, but Jake beat him to it. “Go ahead and explain.”

Sam turned his head to look at Jake as if to say, "Do you want to be here forever?" Jake just sat smiling at his twin, totally aware of the burning look into his face, but couldn’t give a shit. “Josh has a magical way with words that will really get this podcast set off, so I think he should be the one to let everyone know.” Jake’s gruff voice broke out again.

Josh cleared his throat. “Well, today we are going to take a balls deep dive into the magical, the mysterious lore of The Battle of Gardens Gate.” 

Jake closed his eyes at the sound of ‘balls deep’ but went with it.

“Exactly! And today we are ——-“ Sam’s voice suddenly went quiet. Josh was moving to look around the mic in front of him to his little brother. Sam decided to move his head as if to speak AROUND the mic to Josh.

Jake pointed a finger to the mic to remind Sam, who just moved, and carried on talking about whatever he was going on about. “—so to say that it took an interesting turn is true.” 

“So guys, shall we go from song to song in order on the album?” Danny asked.

The rest all began to mumble out answers, talking over each other, but he got a collective ‘yes’.

“So, Heat Above. Where shall we start with that one?” Jake smiled into the mic, looking around.

“Well, the opening song comes across as a pleading, right? So, then it moves onto talking about how life ————-“ Sam’s voice went again as he moved his head, looking Josh dead in the eye but was nowhere near the mic. 

Josh laughed. “Sammy, you gotta talk INTO that round thing in front of you and stop leaning to talk AROUND IT TO SPEAK AT ME.”

Sam stopped and leaned back into his chair. “Right, to me, the song means living through the bad, like pushing through it despite bad things still happening around it, you can still live through it an experience good. And to ME, there’s also something with change in the song.”

“What makes you think of change?” Danny asked.

“Well Daniel, by ignoring the bad and ‘the fire burning around’ you can still live, and I guess that makes people make a change to their life. So, the character in the song wants to change above anything else."

The guys all smiled around at each other. 

“Yeah, I agree with Sammy on that view. It seems like a great perspective to have, almost as if the person within the song is putting a stop to the bad things happening to them, like war, to live how they want to.” Jake added.

“This is a great idea. I just wanted to throw that out there into the abyss of the listeners out there. Thank you for asking us to...well, I guess talk about the album’s meaning more and what’s happening.” Josh smiled into the mic with a big grin.

“Next song, My Way Soon.” Jake cleared his throat. “I think this song is quite obvious. We only have one life, and I think this song, in particular, was written to express that. We have so much freedom and so much we can do that we should just do what we want and explore what we want and I think that’s why people, sort of, well love that song, it’s a sense of I’m free and I’m going to do just that.”

Danny nodded to him and leaned into the mic. “I think Jake said everything. There isn't a lore behind the song, story wise, but you can use this song to express your freedom of wanting to, well make your own story."

Someone burped right into the mic after that, which broke the magical moment Danny's comment made.

“Broken Bells is another type of story, I guess you can say?” Sam took a sip of his drink as he looked at Jake, who nodded.

“Yeah the idea of this world was one where the world that’s within this album has people that are forced to fight when they don’t want to, there’s destruction, loss of people, loss of nature, and that-that really stuck with me when writing some of these songs. I wanted to tell a story, a film even.” Josh added

“The person in the story talks about not being able to see stars, doesn’t want to sleep, but still holds hope for the world and themselves.”

“Yeah, there seems to be a lot of hope within this song-“

“I love this song” All three brothers spoke over each other at the same time. And were weirdly having 3 different conversations with each other at the same time.

Danny just sat there looking at each brother until he leaned into the mic. “Built By Nations.”

That stopped them. They all looked at Danny, blinked, and all went “Ah yeah…” and then started talking over each other again.

“WARRRR!” Josh suddenly yelled, clawing at air as he held his hands up.

Sam pulled a face and then commented how the person in the story doesn’t want to follow his brothers but does so because he’s a coward and doesn’t have any pride to do what he wants.

Jake interjected that the person in the song was merely not really a brother but more of a soldier who was bounded to the others because of being forced to fight. Thus making them brothers.

"We're all brothers." Josh said quietly into the mic as Jake and Sam started going on about the soldiers. Sam lifted his cup and waved it about a few times as he spoke, not caring if he spilled any on Jake.

Danny listened to all three of them ramble on at the same time. “What about the line, Trouble gets so loud? What does that represent?”

Josh laughed. “I think us.” He lifted his shoulders in jest. “That’s the war that’s happening. And the wounded warrior can be taken in two ways, I guess, I mean if you want to take it two ways-“ Josh rambled on about how people can interpret songs while Sam’s attention went to the snacks he brought in.

He actually forgot he had them but thought bringing in something to munch would be his best idea of the day.

He tore into the plastic wrapper, making a loud rustling sound before he shoved some Oreos in his mouth.

Jake laughed, letting his head hang as Sam began to chew loudly, directly into his mic.

“I wish I could get deeper with your guys….um, whey-hey to that.” Josh mumbled into the mic, barely making what he said even recognizable before finishing it with a giggle. “But, Sammy has decided to get peckish and near enough, EAT the mic.” 

Sam chewed, looking at him. “Wmhwat?” 

“Your chewing into the mic so all the listeners can hear is your gums smacking.” Danny spoke up and stifled a laugh. 

Sam looked at the drummer, then down at the packet on the table. He wordlessly picked them up and offered them to everyone, still chewing. 

“Anyway! So the wounded warrior can be taken as in this, person, this character we are following, that he has been wounded in war but also maybe that he wounded because he no longer the person he once was because of the war.” Josh sat back with a smile, crossing his arms as the rest of them all broke out with comments.

“I never thought of it that way before.” Danny commented with a smile. “That’s actually an awesome way to look at this character. Is it an actual war that’s happening or one within.”

“This is getting really fucking deep, and I wasn’t ready for this type of discussion. We should have gotten drinks.” Sam took a large gulp of his drink as soon as he stopped talking.

“You have a drink in your hand right now.” Jake lifted his own to take a sip as his younger brother nodded, “True but it would have been better with something harder,”

They all started talking over each other again, Sam was talking about which drink would go with his Oreos as he sat there shaking the packet at the twins. Jake was laughing, telling Sam and the listeners that drinking harder stuff would just make them talk all over each other, despite that was what they were doing anyway. And Josh broke out with his own rendition of, Edwin Starr’s ‘War’.

“-HUH! GOOD GOD Y’ALL!”

Danny knew he has to try and get their attention BACK. He unemotionally leaned forward to the mic. “Age of Machine.” 

That didn’t work as good as he hoped. They merely stopped for 3 seconds and then broke out again.

“-humans grow and destroy things it’s about how humanity-“ Jake was getting into the zone, leaning more towards the mic than he was before. 

“Take a step back from what we think we’re wired into and realise-“ Josh was waving one hand around as he spoke.

“But then he told me he wanted to go bowling instead so I said-“ Danny had no idea what the fuck Sam was talking about.

“TEARS OF RAIN.” He yelled this time. 

Sam slapped a hand down on the table. “NWO DIS WILL BE GUD TWU TWALK ABWOUT!” Oreo crumbs flying out of his mouth as his spoke.

“What gets me about this song is that I never sing this live. I know for a fact I’ll over think that fucking high note and crack out.” Josh mused for a moment.

“Yeah, but you scream your balls off for that long ass note in The Weight of Dreams with no effort everytime, so maybe, get your head out of whatever you think about, and just scream your balls off when singing this.” And with that, Sammy lifted his cup and cheered his older brother, who sat there looking at him.

A soft smile faint was on Josh's lips. “Ah yes, I’ll just, as Sammy said so delicately, scream my balls off, next time.”

Sam nodded as if anyone could see him. 

“Bringing us back to the song and not focusing on Josh’s balls for a moment.” Jake cut in but got a bark of a laugh down the mic from his twin. “This song can almost have a connection to Heat Above.”

“I get what you mean, with the rain?.” Danny agreed. 

“So, the people within the world are begging for rain. The land is hot, it's just getting worse and all they want is rain. But could this also be about change?”

“You mean like the weather changing?” Sam asked.

“I think I know what Jake’s getting at.” Danny let out. “I guess the rain can be used as a metaphor almost? Like a metaphor for change. They want things to change as it will make their world different since, apparently, there is no rain. There are so many ways songs on this album can be taken and that is literally, like….you’re following a form of story through some songs, or you can take it as metaphors and apply them to even yourself. To your own life and story.” 

Josh grinned widley. “By joe isn’t he dandy?!” He let out in an English accent which Jake joined in with. “Yes, just splendid.”

Danny beamed a smile. 

“Speaking of rain, Stardust Chords.” Sam spoke way too close to the mic at that time, which made Danny wince. 

“I don’t know how that connects to rain, but okay.” 

“From what I get from that song is that the garden has been cut down, nothing is there, it’s all done and everything has fallen. Next song.” 

“Okay….One of our, well, every song is much loved, but you know what I mean. I mean, when we released-“ Josh went on a ramble again as Sam sipped more of his drink and shoved more Oreos in his mouth. Jolting forward a little when one hit the back of his throat, making him splutter out into a coughing fit.

Jake began to laugh manically because of how much he was going on. “Who the fuck thought this was a good idea? Letting me on one of these? I should run for, for office with how well I speak. Don’t you agree?” He looked around the booth to the other members as he broke out in a loud laugh while Sam's coughs were calming down.

“What Josh was trying to say was, The Broken Bells.” Danny saved the day again.

The boys all started talking over each other AGAIN.

“This is where that master is kind of mentioned-“ Sam spoke to Danny this time, gesturing with his hand at the mic as if it was the master.

“—-seeds mean growth, we need to replenish and keep growing to keep going-“

“What I liked that was the fact freedom was promised if they fought in this war, but was he telling them the truth-“

Danny couldn’t take it anymore, they were running out of time for their podcast slot.

“QUICK FIRE ROUNDS GO! LIGHT MY LOVE!” He yelled again

The brothers all looked at him and almost began to panic.

“Er, er, er….shit!” Josh groaned.

“Love. It’s about love. Finding love, having love, having someone make you feel love? Right?” Jake asked also getting in a panic.

“Also Danny wrote it!” Sammy threw in as he began to chug his drink as if he was being timed for drinking.

“CARAVEL!” 

“A BOAT!! EXPLORING NEW PLACES” Jake quickly yelled.

-“A SEXY SOUNDING BOAT!” Sammy yelled back.

“How can a boat sound sexy-“ Jake laughed, but then Danny cut him off

“THE BARBARIANS!”

“HAVING ENOUGH OF FIGHTING! AM I A WILLING PERSON IN THIS OR DOING IT CAUSE I’M TOLD? BESIDES I’VE DONE WHAT I’VE NEEDED. OUR HOME HAS FALLEN FROM THE WAR. BYE.” Josh yelled, screwing his eyes closed, hands clenched. 

“We should play that song more just FYI.” Jake commented and everyone made a collective noise of agreement. 

“WE SHOULD! TRIP TO THE LIGHT FANTASTIC!”

“Think it’s about traveling amongst the stars, going through time, to live, to experience-“ Sammy was actually getting into giving a deep answer until Josh cut him off.

“I vote doing the ramramram bit again in a new song.” 

No one said anything they just looked at Danny as if to say, “yell the next one.”

“Oh, right.” He coughed. “THE WEIGHT OF DREAMS!”

“Ah the ball screaming song” Josh laughed and lifted his shoulders again in jest.

“This song is actually quite deep.” Jake smiled into the mic. “The mention of gold can be seen as exactly what it is, something people want, something people need to survive but then having things such as gold, money, whatever, can actually destroy you just as much as you think it will, well I guess, fix or help you?”

Sammy nodded and pointed a finger to him. “Yes.” They all looked at him as if waiting for him to say more, but he didn’t.

“Um, I guess that’s it, right? Did we make it on time?” Josh asked, looking around for a clock.

“Yeah we have a few minutes to spare, but that was quite tight.”

Jake barked out a laugh, throwing his head back.

“Well, I guess, thank you to all of those who listened and who wanted us to explore this world and our thoughts or feelings would have you. It was truly fun and I hope we can um, well I guess do more of these right?” He paused to smile at the other who all mumbled in agreement.

"Bye everyone!" Danny let out smiling and everyone joined in.

"Sweet dreams!" Josh waved to no one.

"All our love!" Jake was smiling at Josh as he continued to theatrically wave.

"See ya next time!" Sam finished the tiny bit left of his drink, then turned to look at the drummer.

"Hey Daniel, have you ever-" and his mic cut out.

[sorrowfulrosebud]

𝕲𝖊𝖓𝖗𝖊: angst

𝕮𝖔𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖓𝖙: in which Katsuki sees you get rid of a scrap book you planned to give him after he broke up with you

The breakup was… rough to say the least. You supposed it could have been described as a perfect mirror image to your relationship to begin with; the crushing pain of Katsuki being Katsuki.

Katsuki cracked his knuckles loudly from outside of the Heights Alliance building as he waited in the cold for you. Everyone was out doing something with the group, and Katsuki could not have been more quietly grateful. Even though he was going to rip your beating heart straight out of your body, he wanted you to maintain the dignity and pride that he had originally fallen in love with.

It wasn’t like Katsuki had woke up that morning and decided that he was going to break up with you; months of inner self-depreciation crept into his thoughts day by day, alongside the crippling realisation of his ex-victim’s strength and progress. The weight of his existence was slowly crashing around him, and he needed all of his attention for his strength.

Unfortunately, that meant cutting away dead weight.

Your happy humming could be heard as you wandered your way to your boyfriend. Your face lightened at the sight of him, before your smile drops at his scowl.

“Hi, Suki! Is everything alright?” You asked him worriedly, head tilted to the side. Katsuki’s scowl deepened, causing you to reach out to him.

“Suki please, you’re starting to worry me,” your voice rang through his ears as his hand locked around your wrist before it could reach his fluffy locks. There was a long pause as you retracted your hand, staring wildly at your boyfriend’s face.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” he sneered. If he was going to break your heart, he had to rip it out and shove it in the blender. Your eyebrows furrowed as you took your hand back.

“Katsuki, I-,” you were interrupted by Katsuki.

“Don’t fucking call me that either,” he grunted, shoving his hand in his pocket. Tears threatened to prick at your eyes.

“I’m breaking this thing up. It’s not worth my time at all. I’m training to be the number one hero, so I have no time to waste on other useless shit,” his gaze steeled, no ounce of insincerity to be detected. His words cut deep like a sword, your knees feeling weak as tears cling to your lashes.

“Y-you don’t mean that,” you sniffed. Katsuki let out a gruff laugh.

“Don’t I? Look, I guess it was fun when it started, but my priorities haven’t changed. You were just a distraction, something I could put my mind to. I’m not wasting any more time on you, so just leave me alone. I don’t care what you do, or who you get with. Just don’t fucking talk to me anymore, got it?”

His strength was impressive, you thought. How he could say such horrible things to you without buckling or feeling barbed wire dig into his throat. You could only stare at him with tears in your eyes, before shakily nodding. You turned at your heels and unsteadily walked off, before delving into a run back to the dorms.

Katsuki waited until you left. And he waited. And he waited. Until your sobs could no longer be heard. His body shook, before hushed hiccups and cries left his lips. His exhausted body slumped against the wall, shaky hands knuckling at his wet eyes. Well, his dirty deed was done.

Life afterwards was rough for you. After being together for 10 months, your daily routine stung in ways you didn’t know was possible. You found yourself stopping during tasks you had grown unconscious to; you had to stop texting him during the day. Even just the silly thoughts in your head couldn’t be translated in a text to him.

You could only make protein shakes for one now. Laundry loads grew lighter, snack trips became quicker and physical touch with others withdrew exponentially. For the next month, you rotted in your dorm. You ate when Mina would bring you food, her hugging you tightly and angrily grumbling about how much of a dick her friend was.

You managed to stumble to class when you didn’t oversleep the day away. Insomnia plagued you like the Black Death, tossing and turning as you tearfully mourned the relationship you lost. You arrived to class way later than your ex would, avoiding all eye contact even though you were deskmates. (You soon requested a seat change).

Aizawa had had enough when you stumbled late to his lesson for the 5th time, demanding you stay back after class. You gulped and felt your cheeks heat up, embarrassed that your teacher called you out.

The bell for the end of class sounded, bringing you out of your daze.

“(L/N), stay behind please,” came the tired drone of Mr Aizawa. Mina offered you a smile and a rub on the back as she walked off with Kirishima, throwing you a sympathetic look when she left.

Mr Aizawa cleared his throat as he signalled for you to take a seat in front of his desk. He continued marking some papers as his onyx eyes slightly looked at you.

“Your grades are slipping. You’re arriving late to class. You’re avoiding… certain classmates. If you’re struggling, I’d recommend telling me now and continuing the course. If not, pack your bags and take your grievances elsewhere. We’re training heroes, so you need to be exemplary,” he said bluntly, eyes flickering back to his paper.

You sniffled a little, rubbing your eyes.

“I’m sorry, Mr Aizawa. I’ll be better,” you promised dully, wiping your eyes on a tissue. His eyes looked back at you.

“I’m not an idiot. I can tell that you and Bakugou have come to some sort of disagreement. If it can get sorted, I would recommend making up as soon as possible-,” he starts.

“We broke up. He… he dumped me. He said such… horrible things to me. About me,” you whimpered, face screwed up as you clutched your uniform. Aizawa stopped writing before putting down his pen.

“I-I know I’m not exactly as composed as Todoroki, or as fast as Iida or as smart as Yaomomo, but I thought there was something about me that he liked. It just hurts how quickly he discarded me. I’m sorry for disturbing your lessons Mr Aizawa, it won’t happen again,” you quietly cried as you sunk your head in shame.

Only to lift your teary head as Mr Aizawa’s large hand encompassed your scalp. He looked at you with slight concern as you wiped your eyes.

“While it’s true that some of your classmates have advantages that you do not, a real hero doesn’t sell themselves short. Where Todoroki is composed, you’re bubbly and outgoing. Although Iida is fast, he often lacks the ability to let loose and enjoy the small things. And yes, Yaoyorozu is a prodigy student due to private schooling, but you put in the hard work and reap the rewards” his words soothed you as he softly rubbed your head.

“A real hero wouldn’t let someone who had to be chained up at the sports festival make them cry. So don’t sell yourself short. That boy has been in far too many detentions to have the nerve to point out your shortcomings,” he finished, removing his hand and gently pressing his fist into your shoulder.

“Understand me? I’ll let this incident pass if you can prove to me that you can put in the rest of the work and be a hero that everyone can put their faith in.”

The tears returned, but for a completely different reason. You quickly hugged Aizawa, his face immediately shifting into one of discomfort before gingerly patting your back. He let out his signature sly grin.

“Besides, if he tries anything, I can always say to Gang Orca that he needs more classes at the provisional licensing centre.”

You smiled at your home room teacher.

“Thank you Mr Aizawa,” you said, releasing him. He let out a small cough.

“Thank me with your actions. Tell anyone I let you hug me and it’s detention for the next month, understand?” He grilled you.

“I understand sir,” you giggled.

“Now go find Ashido, I can smell her anticipation from here,” he instructed.

“Yes sir.”

After Mr Aizawa’s curt but helpful words, you aimed on self improvement. You focused on bettering a routine, sleeping more and eating healthier. Days you would have spent rotting in bed were forced into activities with your classmates.

The breakup still stung like a knife, but it was easier to manage and slowly dwindled down to a papercut. You hadn’t talked to your ex in 2 months, only sly glances when he wasn’t looking.

Unbeknownst to you, Katsuki was absolutely miserable. Seeing you rot and struggle to cope absolutely murdered him inside knowing that he was the person who ripped your heart out, and that he couldn’t stitch it back together. He managed to keep his own composure, training even harder to avoid seeing you or bumping into you.

He nearly passed out from training, he was overworking so hard. It was his own fault, he knew that. He just couldn’t work past his issues with you there; you didn’t deserve to be at the end of his shitty stick.

The pride he felt when you started cleaning yourself up and interacting more with your classmates made his chest swell. You looked so much more beautiful and radiant; the person he fell in love with.

And dumped.

“Stupid fucking Sparky, gettin’ sick and makin’ me do his chores,” Katsuki grumbled, arms overflowing with bin bags as he stumbled to the large bins. It had been 2 months since your breakup. Or, even worse; your 1 year anniversary.

His heart was absolutely wrecked, but he could now slide quick glances to you without fear of you looking at him. He was so proud that you were able to overcome his asshole behaviour, and hopefully swallow any more feelings that you had about him. His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of sniffling.

He peeked his head around the corner, dropping the bin bags as quietly as he could. His eyes widened. You were stood near the incinerator, a thick book wedged in your hands.

Tears slowly trickled down your face as you looked at the book. A small smile appeared as you thumbed the cover.

“I… I thought we would have made it. I don’t know, I thought it was all going so well. I know I’ll never probably understand what was going through your head that day, but… it’s time to let go of the past,” you say quietly, rubbing your teary eyes as you open the incinerator door.

“I loved you, god fucking damnit! More than I think I could have ever loved anyone! I suppose a small part of me always will now, though. I just thought we had a better chance. Happy one year anniversary, Katsuki,” you finish as you let out a sob, throwing the book into the furnace. You ran off before checking that the book was fully inside the furnace, slamming the door and running back inside.

Katsuki waited until your steps made no noise, before running forward and pulling the book from the furnace. It was a scrapbook; the book was ridiculously chunky, with glitter glue and doodles smothering the outside, as well as stickers from your combined favourite TV shows. The furnace had charred a large chunk of the book, the smell permeating his nose.

Then he saw your names scrawled neatly in cursive. His heart started to thud as he thumbed the pages.

Polaroid photos of you on dates were plastered neatly on the pages; some photos he remembered, others he had no recollection of. Movie ticket stubs, post it notes with cute messages detailing your affections, stickers you gifted each other, silly photos from photo booths that you dragged him into.

Each page was a flash of white-hot pain. There were photos of him during a festival winning you a fish from a difficult carnival game, his eyes smoked beautifully with eyeliner as he grinned (and won the fish). He wonders if you still had it.

Another photo of his birthday party. The two of you had snuck off to your favourite spot in the woods, where he found that you had created your own picnic spot with a spread of his favourite foods. Photos of shy hand-holding, of him resting in your lap and vice versa.

Katsuki was struggling to see the paper for the tears he tried so desperately to blink away before reaching the last page. A whole page was filled with your writing, and Katsuki had to knuckle his eyes to read it.

Dearest Katsuki,

Wow, a year already! I’m so happy that we’ve come so far, my love. I’m so indebted to you for everything that you’ve done for me; helped me with training, putting up with me, hell even just being there for me.

I know I’m not exactly the easiest to get along with, I know I’m easily excitable and not exactly quiet. I love and appreciate that you can listen to me and not get bored, just as I do with you.

Training to be a hero is hard work, so I’m so thankful that you’ve chosen to take your journey with me, even though you’re training so hard to become number one.

I love you more than words can ever describe; you’re the reason I wake up everyday. I adore you, and I hope we can have many more years together kicking ass and beating Deku >o<

Lots and lots and lots of love,

Your (N/N)

Katsuki couldn’t stop the tears that trickled down his face. Reading your words of quiet insecurity, thanking him for things that he threw right back into your face like you were nothing made his heart ache so badly.

He clutched the scrapbook to his chest tightly, sending silent but desperate apologies to you as his head sunk to the floor. Guttural cries escaped him as his choices swirled through his head. The scrapbook’s cover buckled due to the force of his grip as he sobbed his heart out.

Months of self deprecation caught up to him as he craved your touch; he wanted you to hear him, to turn around and hold him tightly to your chest and never ever let go ever again. He needed your sweet affirmations as you played with his hair; “my number one hero,” you would croon as you hugged your tired boyfriend.

His stupid pride got in his way once again, and he finally came to the one conclusion he should have met those 2 fateful months ago.

He couldn’t do this without you.

The trip back to Heights Alliance was a painful one, but Mina hugged away your issues as soon as she saw your misty orbs.

“I’m so proud of you for doing this bestie. You deserve so much better. It’s time to let go of the past,” she told you softly, pink hair tickling your face. You smiled at your best friend.

“Thank you for everything Mina, I really mean it,” you sniffle, wiping your nose and taking a deep breath. You let go of your friend as you smiled at her.

“I think I’m gonna go for a nap, training was super rough today,” you told her, squeezing her hand as she squeezes back.

“Okay, let me know if you need anything. Sleep well, and I’ll let you know when dinner’s ready,” Mina promised, giving you one last hug.

You gave her a wan smile as you walked to your dorm room, throwing a pained look at your exes room. You shook your head as you unlocked the door and got changed into some comfy clothes. Tired bones sunk onto your bed as you let out a sigh.

“It’s time to let go of the past,” you murmur as you fell asleep. As soon as you were about to beat Shigaraki to a pulp, a loud knocking on your door pulled you from your dream.

The knocking was quiet at first, then grew louder, more desperate. You thought it was Mina, and that you had skipped dinner.

You let out a tired laugh, getting out of bed and redoing your hair.

“Okay, okay Mina, I’m coming-“ your voice was cut short as you opened the door, seeing a disgruntled ex staring at the floor.

Clutched tightly in his hand was the scrapbook, as you looked on in shock. How did he get it?! He wasn’t there when you- oh fuck.

Katsuki raised his head, volcanic eyes plagued with tears as he wildly searched your face. He gingerly reached for your hand before sinking to his knees, placing your hand on his face.

“P-please take me back. I know I was a dick, but I’m willing to show you all of my vulnerabilities. Please baby,” he raised his head again.

“I can’t live without you.”

[bullet-clubs-bitch]

Older

Inspired by Older by Isabel LaRosa

Cm Punk X fem reader Word Count: 1300

Summary: Cm Punk was always jealous of the relationship between Y/n and Wardlow, he never understood their relationship. Sure he and Y/n had an 18-year age gap but he knew he would treat her so much better. When Wardlow cheats Punk knows now is his only chance to get with Y/n. “I can be your new Daddy” 

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Die For You (Pt 2) Obsessed (Part 3)

I knew it was wrong, everything about this was wrong. Y/n was young, way younger than I, 18 years to be exact but I couldn't help the feelings I had for her. I was jealous of the guys that spoke to her, they were head over heels in love with her and I couldn't blame them, she was the most gorgeous thing I had ever laid my eyes on. She was delicate like a flower, yet wrapped in barbed wire. She had a sensitive soul yet she hid it from the world, building walls around her years ago. I watched as the blond girl ran past me with tears in her eyes and I knew something was wrong. I walked to catering and noticed Wardlow trying to run after her. 

“What the fuck did you do?” I yelled walking up to the large man, stopping him in his tracks 

“It’s none of your damn business Punk” He spat, shoving me out of the way. Without realizing it I went to swing at the man when I felt someone grab me from behind. 

“Woah there big guy, he’s not worth it” I turned to find Cash and Dax, both having concerned looks on their faces. 

“What’s going on?” I asked the two men in front of me

“He cheated on her” Dax replied 

“What a jerk!-” I yelled

“Okay man, I love you but you are causing a scene” Cash interrupted me “Let’s talk somewhere else” I looked to see everyone looking at the three of us like we were madmen. 

We walked down a few halls to the private locker rooms and passed Wardlow pounding on Y/n’s door. “Y/n, I’m sorry, okay. Open the door” I gave him a nasty look before heading into my locker room. 

“Okay, what really happened?” I asked Cash and Dax, closing the door behind us

“Do you remember how she was upset after he had that fit at Revolution?” Cash said 

“No-” 

“Oh that’s right you weren't there” I gave him a nasty look. “My bad, so anyways he lost the TNT title, blew a fit and left right before Y/n won the title”

“What an asshole” I muttered under my breath

“So apparently when he left, he got with some groupie. Fucked up right, worst part is after she finally forgave him and everything because he was literally begging on his hands and knees for her to take him back he kept sleeping with randos in each town we went to” 

I said nothing, I just sat in shock, trying to comprehend what I just heard. I never understood the relationship between the two of them, she was too good to be with someone like him. Their relationship always seemed weird, like something was always off, but I could never place it. I was lost in my thoughts when I was interrupted by a loud knock on the door. 

Cash and Dax exchanged a confused look before opening the door, revealing a quite angry Wardlow. “What the fuck do you want?!” I asked the man who now stood in front of me. 

Sure the four of us were friends but for some reason I never quite liked Wardlow. I was always civil with him but maybe it was my jealousy that made me secretly despise him. 

“Can you get her to open up?” He asked, referring to Y/n who had understandably locked herself in her private locker room. “Why should we help you?” Cash asked, “Your just going to cheat on her again” I spat “You have no idea what you are talking about Punk” Wardlow spat back “This is none of your business” “Well it sure seems like my business if you are out here asking for our help” “Tell us why we should help you?” Cash asked, not buying a thing coming out of wardlows mouth. “She’s mentally unstable, she is literally crazy. I’m scared she is going hurt herself in there” I could tell his words were sincere, however, I did not buy the fact that Y/n was mentally insatiable. Sure her whole gimmick was being a hardcore Barbie but I knew deep down she wasn’t really crazy, or was she? 

We agreed not to help Wardlow but to help get inside Y/n’s locker room. “You two stay with him, I will check on her,” I told Cash and Dax, not trusting Wardlow within a square inch of Y/n. 

I carefully knocked on Y/n’s door, waiting for a response. “Go Away!” She yelled through the door “It’s just me” “What do you want Punk? I’m not talking to him” “This has nothing to do with Wardlow, I just wanted to see if you are alright. I saw what happened.” Y/n opened the door and let me inside. “So everyone saw,” she said as the tears began to reform in her eyes. “Don’t worry about them” I told her sincerely, joining her on the small couch which sat in the middle of the locker room. “So what happened love?” “I don’t wanna talk about it” I know I shouldn’t be asking such an invasive question but I just had to know “What do you see in him?” “What?” “Wardlow? What do you see in him? He is a big idiot with big muscles and probably a big dick” Y/n laughed at my comments, which made me happy to see her smile. “So you’re only interested in his dick?” I asked playfully “No” “Then what is it?!” “I dunno, he made me feel safe. I know that sounds stupid but it’s true. He’s huge, he kept all the creeps away, and the sex was a nice bonus” I mean it made sense. When they were first an item I noticed how protective he was of her, I wonder what happened. “I could take better care of you. I know I’m not as tall as him or as muscular but the difference between the two of us is that Wardlow is a boy and I am a man. I bet I could make you feel just as good as he did. I would do anything and everything for you.” Y/n said nothing, I knew she was shocked at my words. I knew I was better for her, I would spoil her with expensive gifts, and praise her every day. I knew she was into older guys, she and Wardlow had an eight-year age gap, the only thing the two of us would have was eighteen years. 

“I mean it,” I told Y/n softly as I carefully lifted her chin so she could look at me. “I will give you the world. You will never have to worry about a single thing. I know you Y/n, you act all tough, you live for violence, love the taste of copper on your tongue. Fuck, I’ve seen your matches the title of ‘The Queen of Hardcore’ serves you well but I know that’s an act to hide who you really are. All you want is to be cared for. You like being with older men, the way they protect you, the way they love you better, the way they spoil you. You kill yourself in that ring to have someone like me put you back together, hold you close when you cry, love you to death. Tell me when I’m telling lies” I could tell by the look on her face that she knew I was right 

“Forget about Wardlow, I can be your new daddy” 

[simplydannie]

Previous: Chapter 1

TRIGGER WARNING ‼️ MENTIONS OF DEATH AND VIOLENCE

Velvet has made it to Bergentown where she seeks refuge within the castle. One thing they notice is that she arrives without her brother…

Still pained by the memory, Velvet slowly begins to loose it, sadness winning her over… but her brother’s m*rder was planned… and so is hers.

NOTES: I also wanted the opportunity to showcase just how cruel Vaughn can be if you mess with him… or his family.

She was being held back by the Goyle Rageons. They were strong, anything she tried didn’t work… she couldn’t break free.

“VENEER!!” She screamed at the top of her lungs. She could see the other Rageons had him pinned to the ground, one on top of him…. A knife in his hands.

Her brother let out the most painful, agonizing cry she would ever here… but even that wasn’t enough to cause her to break free. What was happening? Why couldn’t she move? Why couldn’t she muster the strength? Velvet stood there, staring in horror at what they were doing to her brother. He cried, he screamed, he begged them to stop.

“Please stop!” She cried, the tears escaping her eyes, her body shivering in hopelessness, “Please!!”

He cried, he screamed, he begged. She heard him call out one more time, “VELS!”

……….

……….

Then silence…… there was no more crying….. no more screaming….. only silence.

The Goyles finally let her go. Velvet fell to her knees, her body still trembling. She looked up towards her brother… he lay there… motionless…

“Ven….” She slowly began to crawl towards him, “Ven….” She called out again. The closer she got, the more she could see the horror they did to him. His face…. His adorable little face… bloodied and scarred…

“Oh…. My…..” Velvet couldn’t finish the words as she let out a scream. She hugged herself, “VENNIE!!!” She cried.

Velvet could hear the Rageons behind her laughing. A rage ran through her, but still nothing, nothing came to her, she only continued to stare at the horrifying scene in front of her. She reach over and took his beanie off, holding it close to her as tears continued to fall. “I’m sorry Vennie…. I’m sorry.”

“One down. One to go. Get her.” The Strobe Rageon commanded…..

….. it was that instant that she took off running…….

“What the hell!!!! Get her!!!”

Goyles were fast. It be a matter of time before they caught up. With a leap she jumped on the fencing that surrouded Under Rageous. She climbed and climbed, the barbed wire scratching at her legs.

…. The Goyles grew close…

With a push she shoved herself across the fence and landed to the ground with a hard THUD. Pain crawled up her thigh. She looked as the Goyles began climbing the fence with ease….

….. she took one last glance at her brothers body……

“I’m sorry….I….I lo-……” She was so stubborn she couldn’t say the words. She took off running into the dangerous woods of Under Rageous….

Velvet woke up with a sweat….. Her body trembling.

It was a nightmare. The same nightmare of that horrid memory every single night. Since it happened, she couldn’t get any sleep. The same memory kept replaying over and over in her head. The sound of her screaming brother echoing in her mind.

She glanced at her surroundings.

Velvet should feel safe. She should feel free. She had made it to the Bergen Castle just like Veneer had wanted them to do… before she convinced him it was a bad idea. Perhaps if she would have listened, he’d still be here, he would have occupied the empty bed on the opposite side of the room.

“Oh! There’s an extra bed for your brother. Just in case.” Bridgette had told her when she showed her the room.

….Those words stung Velvet. It shattered her heart into a million pieces. Was that possible if her heart was already broken? She had glared at Bridgette. Velvet was fuming….She was mad…She wanted to be mad…but how could she? The Bergen didn’t know anything. She was so clueless to it all…in a way it reminded her of Ven-…No, Velvet refused to say his name again. The more she buried it, the more she forgot what his name was…It would become nothing but a painless memory. Velvet let out a sigh…

“…Thanks.” Was all Velvet told Bridgette..

Velvet broke down once the Bergen left. She had cried and cried until she couldn’t anymore, until the exhaustion lulled her to sleep….She was afraid to sleep now though because every time she closed her eyes, the same memory would replay over and over in her mind. For three months she wasn’t able to sleep. Velvet was so tired, so, so tired. She curled up in her bed, staring out at the window as the moonlight shined through. Her head then turned towards the door.

Deep inside, she wanted her brother to barge in like nothing happened, like it was all some kind of sick twisted joke.

“Psych! Got you Vels! That was payback for that time you scared me and made me pee myself! Who's laughing now?” She wanted him to come in. That those sick twisted Rageons were just paid actors…but no…it was all real…he was really gone. Velvet cocked her head to the side taking a glimpse at his purple beanie laying on the night stand by her bedside….That was all she had left him; his stupid purple beanie he never took off….now it was her that never took it off.

She didn’t want to go back to sleep again… So she cried, her tears staining the blanket, her shoulders and body quivering and shaking.

Outside her door, a small Troll stood listening to everything, he listened in to the stifled cries and whimpers. Branch peeked through the partially opened door to see Velvet sitting curled up on the bed…and….crying? This surprised him. The one time he met her, whatever he had known about her, she never seemed one to cry. If anything, he’d imagine her brother doing all the crying. Branch glanced at the empty bed that lay on the opposite side of the room. He began to feel that this had something to do with Veneer. It was odd to see her arriving without him.

“Where’s Veneer?” They had asked.

“Don’t worry about it.” Was all that she had responded. Her tone made them afraid to ask any further.

…This was odd. This was all odd. Branch didn’t trust Velvet one bit…but his heart went out to how miserable she seemed. Was Veneer in trouble? Was something happening that she didn’t want to say…or couldn’t say? Velvet was not one to easily trust anyone, he knew that for sure. She had come here for a reason….and he might have figured what that reason was for.

“If any of us can talk to her, it’s going to him.” He whispered to himself. Branch ran off to find Floyd.

3 months prior, back in Under Rageous…

A tall pale Rageon stood staring off out the window. Next to him lay a map…It was crossed out, written in, utterly almost destroyed…He knew he was close, those two were hard to find. He knew they were back in the under-city, and he knew there was only a matter of time before others were on the hunt for them too…

Vaughn fiddled with the wedding ring on his finger, “We’ll have them back to us in no time Vivian.”

The doors to his office swung open as two more pale Rageons entered. Vaughn turned to them, “Well?”

“Sir…We…..We found….We found your son. But your daughter was nowhere to be seen…”

Vaughn clenched his fist…Velvet…Why wouldn’t she be with Veneer? They always stuck together, always. What would cause this?

“Bring him to me.”

“Sir…”

”I SAID BRING MY SON TO ME!” He demanded, but the Rageons didn’t move. They looked at him with sad, sober eyes. Vaughn knew that look, he knew that look all to well, “…..Where……Where is Veneer?”…..

…..There….

…..There his son lay on a metal table, a white cloth draped over him, covering his entire body….

Vaughn hesitated at the doorway, his men still behind him…

“….Where did you find him?”

“In a ditch near the outskirts. Near the broken walls that lead out of Under Rageous..”

“Did….Did you find anyone, or anything else?”

“No sir. There was no sign of your daughter anywhere.”

Good. That meant she could still be alive….

“Leave me. Now.” He commanded. With a single nod, they left him alone in the cold room. The door shut behind him loudly…A silence lingered in the air as Vaughn stood there staring at the white sheet…and the motionless body that lay underneath. Slowly…he began walking towards it…

He soon stood hovering over the covered body of his son…of his boy…not even eightteen, and his life was already over. Vaughn’s hand hovered over the white sheet…he allowed the silence to linger as his thoughts wandered…Grasping the sheet, he pulled it back…and there he was…

Veneer lay motionless on the cold steel table. His eyes closed…his face marked up and cut, gashes going down to his neck…They left him nearly unrecognizable. Vaughn clenched his fists, the blood draining them, a scowl coming across his face, his heart racing as the anger built. His lip quivered…but he refrained from crying any tears.

Ven, who would do this to you? The words echoed his mind. Where was Velvet? Did they take her? Did they kidnap her? Oh god, the horrors they would do to her alone? Is that why they killed Veneer? Was he trying to protect her? So many questions built…Questions he was determined to get an answers too.

He reached up and grasped his son's cold hand. Vaughn stared at Veneer, hoping that maybe, just maybe, he would move, he would budge, he would wake up.

“If you hadn’t run away…You would still be here .... If i hadn’t messed up as a father…this wouldn’t have happened..” He moved his hand up to stroke his son’s cold face, his cheeks which once held such warmth and life….

Vaughn…

He heard a sweet voice echo in the room…

Darling. I have him now. Let him go.

“…Vivian…”

He’s with me. I have our baby boy. It’s okay, he’s safe now.

“…But…”

…Now go find our girl…

Present day…

Blood trickled down their nose and fell to the ground in small drops as they hung by chains upside down in an abandoned warehouse. It was three Rageons held captive, two Strobes, and a Goyle. Groans of pain escaped their lips as they drifted to and from conscience…

With blurred vision, they saw the tall figure standing in front of them. Black vest and pants, his white collar shirt rolled up to his elbows revealing his tattoos. He wore black gloves as he sharpened his knife, the darkness and shadows of the warehouse covering his face…

“..P-please….L-let us go…” The strobe Rageon begged. The tall pale Rageon continued sharpening the knife as he heard them beg.

“Funny. Is that what my son told you when you murdered him?” The Rageon spoke. The Strobe stared at him, a confusion struck across his face.

“What the hell are you talking about? We ain’t killed no one's son.”

SHRINK!

He finished sharpening the knife. It glistened in the light ever so beautifully. He finally stepped out into the light where the captive Rageons finally saw his face for the first time…the ice blue eyes, the scar running along his left eye…

“….Vaughn….” A terrified expression crossed their face, a horror in their voice as it escaped the lips of one of the Rageons.

A terrifying cunning smirk crossed Vaughns face as he knelt down in front of one of the Rageons, his knife gliding playfully across the Rageons cheek, “What made you decide to kill my son?”

“…W-we…w-we didn’t know he w-was your son! W-we s-swear.”

“….BULLSHIT!” Vaughn cut the Rageons cheek.

“Please, please don’t!”

“Then answer my damn questions…WHY DID YOU KILL MY SON!”

“W-we were told to pursue a set of twin Succubi! We were paid to exterminate them! They didn’t tell us who they were, they never told us they were your kids!!” The Strobe cried out in tears.

“Who was it that told you?” Vaughn asked.

“We don’t know! We swear!”

“Where did the girl head off to?”

“We last saw her running out of Rageous. We couldn’t catch her, so we let her go!”

A scowl came across Vaughns face, a twist of disgust on his lips. Thugs, worthless thugs, he thought to himself. He looked at one of the Rageons, Vaughn pointed at him with his knife…

“How old are you boy?”

The Strobe Rageon didn’t answer at first, “….Twenty-two….”

“Don’t lie to me.”

“…..Fifteen”

Vaughn looked at the other two in disgust, “Bringing in children to your little gang. Have them do the work you cowards can’t do? Despicable.” Standing up he cut the ropes of the young Rageon loose. He stared up at Vaughn in disbelief.

“Get out…If I EVER see you again, you won't be so lucky.”

The young Rageon stumbled and fell as he ran out of the warehouse back into freedom.

“Wait! What about us! We told you everything…We told you the truth!!”

“….I believe you…” Vaughn replied.

The remaining captive Rageons sighed in relief…A cunning, wicked grin twisted on Vaughns lips as he twiddled with the knife in his hands, “But that won't save you…Allow me to inflict the pain you inflicted on my son.”

…Terrifying screams were heard coming out of the warehouse. Screams no one would hear…Screams no one would ever want to hear…Screams that would haunt anyone’s nightmares.

One thing was certain….Vaughn wasn’t the only one looking for Velvet now…

[competitivemen]

David really didn't like being assigned to go on so many jobs with his coworker, Keith, and he thought that the feeling was mutual. While David tried to get along with him, Keith did not make it easy. David being new in the job meant that he was often unsure of how to complete a task, and he didn't respond well to Keith's teaching style of forcing him to try it until he got it right. When he refused to out of fear of messing up, he'd be called lazy.

The social side was also a problem. Keith and the rest of their colleagues would often banter about and make crude jokes that David was too reserved to even think about making. It made David uncomfortable when they joked about how sweaty their balls were after a day's work or talked about how much they needed a good wank. Keith was definitely the most crass and boisterous of David's colleges who made most of these sort of jokes and was also the one who directed them at David the most often.

It didn't help that David seemed to be the only gay guy Keith knew. It meant that David had a constant barrage of gay jokes directed towards him. He was frankly tired of Keith's taunts, such as Keith jokingly grabbing his own crotch while asking David if he's ever thought about sucking straight dick or showing off his sweaty armpits and mockingly asking David if sniffing hairy men is the sort of thing gay guys are into.

What made it really hard for David to ignore was that he was secretly desperate to do all those things. He had to put all his effort into suppressing his reaction to Keith's barbs. He'd never live it down if he got a hard on in the middle of the work day. It certainly wouldn't lessen Keith's jokes.

It all came to a head when, once again, David and Keith were alone on a job. David was trying to focus on the task at hand, but he was being distracted by Keith's builders bum that was really showing off his hairy arse. David had to fight the urge to give it a sniff.

He must have been staring at it for too long because he was suddenly brought out of his fantasising by Keith's yell. "Oi, earth to planet Fag! Stop drooling over my arse and get the tools." He barked, having caught David red-handed.

David tried to get out a few unconvincing denials while turning as red as a tomato, but Keith wasn't having any of it. "Stop sputtering like a car engine; you're fooling no one. Now get the tools! If you're quick about it, I'll let you have a lick, ha!" He said it with a mocking grin before turning back to the job.

It took a moment for Keith's words to fully register in David's frazzled brain. When they finally did, he was off like a shot, getting the tools and bringing them to Keith in record time. As he placed the tools down beside Keith, he shifted nervously before finally building up the courage to speak. "W-was I quick enough?"

Not taking his eyes off his work, Keith let out a derisive laugh. "Yeah, knock yourself out." He said, rolling his eyes at what he thought was his colleagues' poor attempt at leaning into the joke.

Except David was anything but joking. As soon as he was given the supposed go-ahead, he crouched down to just behind his colleague's exposed bum. He didn't pause as his hands reached for Keith's waistband, and in one swift movement, he tugged the pants down, fully exposing Keith's hairy arse.

Before Keith could do more than let out a surprised yell, David had shoved his face right in between Keith's arse cheeks. He did so with enough force that it caused Keith to topple forward. Keith let out a pained grunt as he was forced to drop his tools and put his hands out in order to arrest his fall.

His face now firmly planted where he wanted it, David greedily sniffed up the smell of sweat and musk from the hairy arse crack that his nose was logged in. Finally, he was getting to smell the scents he'd only been able to fantasise about before. The aromas caused him to gasp in pleasure. Due to his position, he opened his mouth directly onto Keith's puckered hole.

The sensation of lips brushing against and air being blown across his backdoor finally brought Keith enough out of shock to be able to form words again. "Fucking hell! I was joking. You sick fuck." He grunted as he tried to move his arse away, but to little success.

David flushed red, but he didn't remove himself from Keith's arse. Instead, he opened his mouth again and tentatively stuck his tongue out to poke at Keith's hole. "I'm sorry." He said before again, licking Keith's puckered hole. "I'm not very good with jokes." Another lick. "Let me make it up to you." He said before puckering his lips and giving Keith's hole a sloppy wet kiss.

Keith had to stop himself from moaning as David peppered his back entrance with licks and kisses. David's tongue was driving him mad with its constant teasing flicks. Finally, it grew too much. Keith stopped trying to pull away and began shoving his ass backwards into David's face. But still, David would only tease the entrance to Keith's arse.

With a cry of frustration, Keith demanded more. "For fucks sake. If you're going to be an arse lickings slut, at least fucking commit to it! Stick your tongue up there, bitch!" He growled.

David didn't need to be told twice. He vigorously began working his tongue into Keith's tight hole. Keith gave up on suppressing his moans as he felt David's tongue worming its way into him.

Soon, David had breached Keith's ring and was aggressively thrusting his tongue as far up Keith's ass as he could go. "Fuck yesss. Eat my fucking hole." Keith groaned as he was eaten out.

David lost himself in the trance of making out with his colleague's asshole. He didn't know how long he'd been at it, and he didn't care. His world had reduced down to worshipping the hairy hole in front of him. 

Suddenly, David's face was forced back, his tongue slipping out of Keith's hole with an audible slurp. Whining at the loss of being able to touch the object of his devotion, David tried to shove his face back into Keith's arse, but Keith's strong arms kept him at bay.

Keith had shoved David away so that he could flip over, shoving his pants completely down to his ankles as he did. Now Keith was lying on his back, his rock-hard cock standing tall between him and David. It was a thick and hairy member, and David gulped at the thought of having to take it inside of him.

"Fuck, your tongues really got me going. You're a world-class arse licker. Now, open up; let's see if your throat is just as talented." Keith said as he shuffled himself towards David until his cock was pressed against David's lips, looking for entry.

But David was apprehensive; he'd never taken a cock as big as Keith's before and was worried about gagging on it. He made his reservations clear. "I don't think I can take you." He said, sending a pleading look at Keith's face, past his twitching cock.

With a growl, Keith slapped David's face with his hard cock. "Fucking, work shy, cunt. At least try taking it." He said, both his voice and face showing his clear contempt for David's reluctance.

Recovering from being cock slapped and trying not to think about the pre-cum now splattered across his cheek or the hard cock in front of him, David was still resistant. "I can't. Look, why don't we just forget about this for now and get back to the job? I kno-"

David was cut off when Keith grabbed his head and forced it downwards, impaling his rock-hard cock into David's mouth.

"You fucking tease. Do you really think you can snog my ass and then cut me off before taking my load? I don't fucking think so." Snarled Keith as he rammed David's head down his cock, forcing his cock past David's mouth and into his throat.

David started gagging on the cock that was now stretching his throat. He tried to push himself off, but Keith kept his head firmly in place, meaning his spasming throat did nothing but massage the cock lodged in it.

Keith groaned at the sensation and began bobbing David's head up and down his shaft, treating David's throat more like a fleshlight than a coworker.

Keith set a brutal pace at which he drilled into David's mouth. David had to use every brief rise to the tip of Keith's cock to gasp for as much air as he could before he was inevitably slammed back down. He was worried he'd pass out. That didn't slow Keith down one bit.

"Yes, take my cock. Your throat is so fucking tight. Fuck." Rambled Keith as he bounced David's head up and down his cock. 

David's eyes became unfocused as his mouth was fucked. He could hardly think as his throat was stretched open, but he knew that he wouldn't be able to hold out on snatched breaths for much longer. Knowing he couldn't stop Keith from using him to get off, his only option was to get Keith to cum as quickly as possible.

In his current predicament, there were only two ways he could think of to speed along Keith's orgasm.

First, he forced his throat to relax and stopped resisting Keith's manhandling off his head. He tried as best as he could to act as the cocksleave that Keith was using him as. Feeling David's resistance stop, Keith hissed his approval and picked up the pace of his thrusts.

Secondly, his hands now free from trying to push himself off Keith's cock, David wrapped his hands around Keith's hairy arse and began working his fingers into the sweaty ass crack, trying to locate Keith's puckered hole. When he found it, it was still wet with spit from David's earlier tongue-fucking. As such, he met minimal resistance as he stabbed his fingers into Keith's back door.

Keith howled as his backdoor was invaded. Trying to escape the sensation, he trusted his hips forward and up into the air. He'd been bringing David's head down onto his cock at that same moment, resulting in him burying himself right to the base inside of David's mouth and throat.

David struggled to take it all and not lose focus of what his fingers were doing as he found his face pressed against Keith's pubes. He couldn't help but get a whiff of Keith's musky scent. His eyes began to water, both from the smell as well as the cock restricting the flow of air down his throat.

Regaining focus, he frantically wiggled his fingers around the inside of Keith's arse, trying to find Keith's prostate. As he searched, Keith body rythed about, forcing his hips up and down and his cock in and out of David's mouth.

Finally, David's fingers found their mark. It was too much for Keith to handle. With a roar, Keith buried himself to the hilt and sprayed his load down David's throat, who had to frantically gulp down as much of Keith's massive load as he could to prevent himself from choking on it.

Once Keith's balls were fully drained, he at last released his hold of David's head, allowing David to withdraw enough to take a full breath. As he did, cum sprayed out of his mouth, covering his lips, chin, and clothing, making him look more like a used sex toy than a person. A look only enhanced by David's stained crotch, which he'd saturated with his own load while he'd been gagging on Keith's cock.

They both collapsed to the ground in exhaustion. Keith was the first to recover enough to be able to speak. "Fuck, I needed that. Now that I've broken you in, you'll be going on a lot more jobs with me. Now get yourself cleaned up; we've got a job to finish, and we're running behind because of you." He said as he pulled up his pants and turned back to the job.

David found going onto jobs with Keith to be a lot more pleasant after that. Whenever he didn't get something, Keith was now more than willing to drill him on it until he got it. David's much more repetitive attitude and willingness to give things a try made the process much more pleasant for Keith as well. David was happy to learn all the tricks of the trade at Keith's knee while being down on his own.

He also felt much more comfortable socially. Keith and his other coworkers' jibes didn't bother him anymore. When they called him a cocksucking cum dump, David could laugh right along with them. It was true after all. David felt much more like he was a part of the team now that they were regularly giving him their loads. 

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

Cause You Had Nothing Better to Do (AO3)

Carol Perkins/Barbara Holland || ~10k, complete || Part of the Steddie Upside-Down AU, but can be read as a stand-alone with some background info: Barb never died, Steve gets possessed by the Mindflayer instead of Will. || hut/comfort || Angst and Fluff and Smut || developing relationship || getting together || falling in love || mutual pining || porn with plot || smut || fingerfucking || frottage

Smut begins 6k in, the beginning and end is outlined with red asterisks (***), for skipping purposes.

I get this ache - and I, I thought it was for sex, but it's to tear everything to fucking pieces. -Ginger Snaps, 2000

***

There’s a fucking bat full of nails clutched between her palms and Carol Perkins swears she just coughed her entire fucking heart up onto the broken down bus Barb had just ditched her on. Barb’s shoulders have always been broad, jaw firm, eyes flinty, but Carol’s pretty sure there’s a fucking monster out there, and all the other girl’s got is an abandoned tire iron. 

“Shit, shit, shit,” Dustin mutters under his breath where he’s hunkered down beside her, staring out the window with wide, adoring eyes as a high school junior walks out to face death like it’s any other Tuesday.

“She’s insane,” Max whispers, but even her usual bitchiness is tinged with a level of hero worship that Carol cannot live with.

These are all fucking kids, and she’s what, four inches taller than the shortest of them? How is she supposed to protect any of them no matter what deadly, suspiciously blood-splattered weapon Barb pushes into her hands?

“She’s awesome,” Dustin says, grinning gummily like this is cool to him.

“She’s going to die,” Carol hisses, unimpressed by how shrill her voice comes out. If she’d known letting this little twerp get into her car would lead to this, she might’ve shoved him out on his ass.

The thought’s punctuated by the meaty thwack of Barb’s crowbar connecting with something Carol’s pretty sure isn’t the dog Little Red’s been insisting it must be. Then, Lucas shouts out, “another one, two o’clock!” from his vantage point out the top of the bus, and there’s another one. 

“She’s going to die,” Carol says again, despairing, even as she tightens her fingers around the baseball bat, takes a deep breath, and heads toward the door. “Don’t leave the bus.”

“What are you doing?” Wheeler whines, but she doesn’t care. The kid’s a twerp, and besides, there’s something three seconds away from leaping at Barb’s back.

The door squeaks as she wrenches it open, loose on hinges that haven’t been oiled in years. She wastes precious seconds yanking it closed behind her, and for what? The flimsy piece of metal and glass isn’t keeping anything out. But Barb had told her to watch the kids, and she’s abandoning her post. So, she closes the door and prays to a god that’s never called her back that the piece of shit holds.

“Behind you!” Carol calls, and Barb turns, crowbar arching with her momentum and smacking the thing directly in its horrible face.

The first one’s still circling Barb like a vulture, though, so Carol runs and stands at her back, covering all sides.

“What the hell are you doing?” Barb spits, but she backs up a step until she’s pressed against Carol.

She’s short enough that her head hits the solid plane of Barb’s back, and she feels small, suddenly inadequate in her body, and she hates it.

“Saving your ass?” Carol says, voice cracking as she finally gets a clear look at the thing that’s definitely not a dog.

Its paws are all messed up, like human fingers that never quite grew all the way, and it’s naked and hairless, glistening in a way she hasn’t seen outside of plucked chickens at the grocery store. Its mouth’s a furled pucker, almost funny to look at until the thing opens up to shriek in her face and she catches sight of what looks like hundreds of canine teeth, each pointing directly at her.

Carol can feel her mouth moving, but she can’t hear her own voice past its shrieking, can’t parse her thoughts as she clenches the bat and swings with all her might into its gaping maw.

The hit of the bat doesn’t seem to do much, but then the nails get stuck in the fleshy bits of its mouth between all those teeth, and when she yanks it free, the thing yowls and skitters back on its impossible legs.

Something black and oozing splatters across her, obscuring her vision until she reaches blindly up to her face and rubs it off with the sleeve of her cardigan. It’s viscous and sticky against her skin, and even as she keeps her bat raised, she shudders at the feel of it dripping off her hair and beneath the collar of her shirt.

She doesn’t notice she’s lost track of Barb until the other girl’s back slams into her hard enough that she barely locks her knees in time to stay on her feet. They press against each other, Barb’s warmth the only thing shoring Carol up and keeping her on her feet as that thing starts scurrying back toward her, mouth open wide with an inhuman shriek.

She swings again wildly, missing entirely, but it still shuffles back a few feet at the remembered pain of nails rending flesh.

Both the things circle them now, hemming them in. Carol matches Barb step for step as they spin in tandem, trying to keep each in their line of sight. Carol’s arms feel like leaden weights as she holds the bat upright, trying to mimic Tommy’s stance during his brief stint as a baseball benchwarmer.

“We’re fucked,” Barb mutters, and Carol finds herself inexplicably laughing as she keeps her eyes trained on the thing’s absence of eyes.

“Always thought it’d be Steve at my back when I died,” Carol says, grin more a baring of teeth than a smile.

“I thought it’d be Nancy,” Barb replies, voice strained.

Carol wants to turn and see the expression on her face. She knows the way Barb’s eyes go flinty and hard when she’s insulted, or the way she smiles when Munson says something endearingly stupid. She wants to know what her mouth looks like when she’s facing death down.

But they’re still circling, a dance where if even one of them falters, they both go down, one after another. So, she keeps staring down her prey, and when one lunges, she swings.

Her shoulder’s wrenched with the swing, but when she pulls the nails free from its flesh, the circle’s bigger now, those things giving her and her bat a wider berth.

“I’m not so bad though, huh?” Carol asks, and she’s still smiling, not-blood splattered against her teeth. She licks it off without thinking and gags at the taste—seaweed gone off.

Barb snorts. “Speak for yourself,” she replies, back pressed once more against Carol’s. “You’re the worst person I know.”

Carol laughs, braying and sharp in the quiet of the junkyard. She opens her mouth to reply, but then Lucas shouts, “there’s another one, six o’clock!” and she screams instead, wordless and enraged.

They can’t take three of these things, can’t even really take two. So, when she feels Barb swing her crowbar, she swings her own bat, spins wildly, grabs Barb’s wrist and bolts toward the bus faster than she’s ever run in her life.

“Go, go, go!” Dustin’s shouting, door propped up and body half out the open door against all of her orders, as if his wild gesturing will somehow make them faster. “Come on!”

Carol shoves past where he’s partially obstructing the door, tripping to safety. She falls, knees hitting the metal floor of the bus hard enough that she can feel it in her jaw. She lets go of Barb’s wrist, but not quickly enough to stop the other girl’s downward momentum. Barb ends up sprawled along Carol’s back as Carol lays there stunned, the children scuttling around them to secure the now-closed door of the bus.

The not-blood’s cold enough that she can tell herself that’s why she’s shivering. Barb’s body heat against her back is almost shocking. She wants to sink into it and let this nightmare play out without her. But something connects with the bus hard enough to shake it, and Barb jerks her up, leaving her seasick on dry land.

Barb rushes to the door, and Carol watches, stock-still as it crumples like wet tissue paper against the thing’s claws. Barb beats the shit out of it, glistening with sweat as she raises her tire iron and brings it down, again, and again, and again.

The kids rush past her to huddle in the back, and Dustin’s got his stupid walkie-talkie out, his voice begs for assistance that they all know isn’t going to come in time. Carol shivers as he says, “we are going to die!” with a fierceness beyond his years.

Carol stands, an island in the middle of a horror movie, waiting to be eaten alive. The slut always goes first, and there’s been writing on the boy’s bathroom wall for years.

Barb will protect the kids. Carol can just stand there, waiting for the inevitable final breath to fill her lungs.

But then Little Red screams, and Carol’s bolting for the back of the bus without thought, bat raised high in her shaking arms. They rip the fucking emergency exit at the top of the bus wide open, and one of those things is slinking through, chittering brokenly.

It’s too far up for her to reach, but Carol swings anyway, violently back and forth like she’s got a torch and she’s trying to light the thing aflame. It shrieks, saliva dripping down onto her face. She screams back, loud enough that her vocal cords protest and crack. 

It closes its mouth and looms down at her, silent and menacing before turning its head like a dog scenting the air and disappearing from view entirely.

The bus is silent in its wake as they all stand, listening to the braying of these monstrous things grow farther and farther away.

Carol turns to Barb, a compass pointing true north. Barb’s already looking back. There’s black ooze splattered across her dorky glasses and the swell of her cheek, and she’s still clutching onto her crowbar, mouth a firm line.

Carol trembles beneath her gaze, a shiver running down her spine. The moment elongates, neither of them blinking. Like this, it’s just the two of them—no monsters, no children to protect, nothing but the absence of warmth where Barb’s back should be pressed up against hers.

She doesn’t want to take her eyes off Barb. It’s absurd; they’re not even friends, barely acquaintances, but it’s like the past however the fuck long its been with the other girl pressed up against her back has hollowed out a spot within her.

If she can see Barb, they’re both alive. If she can feel Barb, everything is fine.

“What happened?” Lucas asks, and his voice breaks up the quiet moment.

Barb looks away first, turning back to what’s left of the door to peer out into the junkyard. Carol watches, unmoored without Barb’s eyes on her, Barb’s back against hers, Barb’s skin beneath her fingers.

The door rattles as Barb swings it open. It clangs against the side of the bus with the momentum of her swing, hanging loosely by the one hinge it's still attached to.

From her vantage point, Carol can’t see past the broad plane of Barb’s back to what’s outside. She’s still got her crowbar in her hand, but she lets it hang loosely at her side as she leans out of the bus.

Dustin leans into her space, peering around her into the junkyard. “You guys scared them off,” he says, turning to smile up at Carol as if she’d done anything aside from scream and flail.

“As if,” Carol scoffs, rolling her eyes, but there’s a bubble of warmth unfurling in her chest as the kid just keeps smiling gummily at her.

“They all left at once,” Barb cuts in. She steps out of the bus, and Carol’s heartbeat kicks up as she loses sight of her entirely. Carol rushes after her, almost bowling Wheeler over in her haste to keep the other girl in her line of sight. Barb’s looking into the rapidly darkening forest. Carol can just barely hear the monstrous howls of those things, drifting toward them on the wind. “They’re going somewhere.”

And that’s how Carol ends up tromping along the woods with Barb, a gaggle of kids trailing behind them. For such obnoxious dweebs, they’re being shockingly quiet right now, their whispers barely carrying to her ears.

Barb’s not saying anything at all, but she’s using the tip of her crowbar to push branches out of their way, holding each one back long enough for Carol to clear the obstruction before letting it swing back, unimpeded.

“Can’t believe monsters were what you were all hiding from me,” Carol says, cutting through the suffocating silence. “I thought you were all fucking or something.”

Barb snorts and elbows Carol gently in the ribs before stepping back away, maintaining their carefully cultivated distance. “You really think it’s more likely that I’d willingly sleep with Steve Harrington than that there’s monsters?” She says it like it’s absurd. As if monsters with more teeth than hair hadn’t just tried to eat them.

“I don’t know,” Carol replies, biting her cheek against a laugh, "he did always have a thing for bitchy redheads.”

“Fuck off,” Barb replies, but she’s suppressing her own laugh now, Carol can tell.

Carol watches the way the edges of her lips tug up, like she can’t help herself. She’s so caught up in watching the other girl, that she doesn’t notice the root Barb had already stepped neatly over until her foot’s caught on it and she’s sent sprawling in the dirt.

The twerps all snicker, but Barb doubles back immediately and bends down toward her, hand outstretched. Carol takes it.

“You okay?” she asks. Barb’s hand engulfs hers, enclosing it entirely in her warm skin as she pulls Carol back to her feet. Carol stares up at her, breathless beneath the weight of her big, brown eyes. “Carol.”

Carol shudders, then nods, squeezing Barb’s hand, not looking away from her face.

“You’ve got a little…” Carol says, gesturing with her free hand to her own cheekbone. Barb lets go of her hand to swipe at her own cheek, missing the black ooze entirely. “Here, let me.”

Carol reaches across the space between them. Before she makes contact, Barb flinches, leaning away, so Carol pauses, hand hovering in the air between them. Only when Barb leans incrementally back toward her does Carol let her fingers settle against Barb’s cheek. Most of the stain brushes off, staining her fingers black, but there’s a cluster of stubborn, partially dried flakes still staining Barb’s pale cheek like invasive freckles.  

Carol smooths her fingers gently over them, reveling in the warmth of a living body beneath her hands. Barb shudders, so she does it again before pulling the sleeve of her cardigan down over her fingers to use its abrasive cuff to scrub the rest free.

“Thanks,” Barb murmurs, barely audible even in the quiet of the night. Carol pulls her gaze up from pinkening cheeks to meet Barb’s eyes, hand still raised to her cheek.

She gets lost in Barb’s brown eyes, watching, almost hypnotized as her pupils dart all over Carol’s face like she’s looking for something. Carol doesn’t know what it is but finds herself hoping she’ll find it there.

Barb leans closer, a blotchy red high on both of her cheekbones. Carol gasps, just once, entirely lost, but then Mike fucking Wheeler interrupts the moment with a whiny, “can we go?” and Barb immediately leans back, averting her gaze.

Barb turns around without a word and continues on. Carol’s at a standstill, hand still raised, cupping the air like she’s still holding Barb’s cheek in her palm, even as she watches the other girl’s back grow smaller in front of her.

“Hello?” and it’s Dustin this time, pushing at her back. “Let’s go!”

“Watch it,” Carol hisses but she follows Barb’s disappearing back further into the trees.

***

Things keep happening. Barb should be used to it by now, after last year’s Upside-Down debacle, but it’s worse this time. She’s somehow ended up in charge of Mike Wheeler and all his shithead friends.

Even with her brother in the thick of things, Nancy’s conspicuously absent. Jonathan, too. Last year had been bad. But she’d had backup, and a plan.

Now, she’s just stumbling around in the dark, Carol Perkins trailing behind her close enough that she keeps kicking her fucking heels every other step. Barb makes a valiant effort at being mad about it, but it all blusters out before she can get a real steam going.

Her cheek’s still warm where Carol had cupped it.

Barb clenches the tire iron more firmly in her hand and picks up the pace, Carol hot on her heels.

Any warmth flees the farther they walk in. The sound starts small, then grows the further in they go. Each step is a struggle. Nancy would investigate – she’d follow the sound to its source, no matter what it takes, all in the name of answers.

That’s what she’d done when Steve had been missing. But Steve’s back now, and Barb’s steps are faltering.

It’s like the Demogorgon all over again – these things’ shrill calls travel straight to her nervous system, sending signals to her feet to flee. Before she can, she’s breached the trees.

There’s a cliff face in front of her so she stops, holding her arm up to halt any of the kids before they go stumbling off the edge. 

It’s too dark to see much. Still, they all squint down, trying to catch sight of where the monstrous screeching is echoing up, ricocheting off the cliff’s face. Dustin whips out a flashlight, trying to shine it down to the ground, but the beam of light is swallowed up in the darkness, illuminating nothing but air.

“I don’t see anything,” Dustin says.

Barb rolls her eyes just as Carol says, “no shit.”

Lucas, inarguably the best of the bunch, lifts his binoculars from where he’d left them dangling from a string around his chest and squints through them.

“It’s the lab,” he says, leaning forward like that will somehow make him see more clearly. “They were going back home.”

“Let me see,” Barb demands, holding her hand out beckoningly toward him until he pulls the binoculars from around her neck and places them in her waiting palm without complaint.

She presses the eyepieces hard against her glasses, trying to get them close enough that her eyes focus. Once the image becomes clear, it takes her a minute of swinging them around until she focuses on the target.

She can’t see much past the fluorescence of their security lights, just the edge of a building ensconced in trees. But the sounds are converging on that point, and it sounds like a lot more than three of them.

“Shit,” Barb says, stunned into inaction.

What’s there to do? The place is going to be fucked, and they’ve got two close-range weapons between them.

But then Mike Wheeler peers around her and says, “isn’t Will in there?” in the smallest voice she’s ever heard.

Dustin swears and begins hailing another code red. Barb doesn’t turn away from the lab, afraid that if she turns her back, they’ll all converge on a different single point, and it’ll be them.

“I read you,” Will’s crackling voice comes through Dustin’s walkie talkie. “What’s the situation?”

The sound of fireworks cracking off one after another sounds in the distance. It takes her a moment to realize they’re gunshots. Then the screaming starts, barely audible from this distance. How could anyone be in there and not know the situation?

Is Steve in there with him?

Is Eddie?

“Demodogs are converging on the lab!” Dustin yells over the cacophony those things are making. Demodogs? Is that what they’re calling them? “I repeat, Demodogs are converging on the lab!”

“Hop’s at the lab!” Joyce’s voice comes through, just barely audible like she’s talking from far away.

Barb thinks she should care about the way Joyce’s voice cracks. Chief Hopper’s mostly a good guy who doesn’t deserve to be eaten by a Demodog. As if anyone does. But Joyce said he was at the lab, not we.

“There an adult with ya?” And that’s Uncle Wayne.

Barb sighs with relief, finally turning her back on the lab and shepherding the kids back the way they came, while they all squabble over the walkie talkie.

That’s Eddie and Steve accounted for. If they were in trouble, no way in hell would Wayne leave them alone.

They run to the car on Wayne’s orders, and Barb floors it to the Byers house, Carol in the passenger seat, the kids arguing in the back. Then she’s fighting the Demodogs again, this time with Wayne at her side, Carol hunched over her best friend.

Barb doesn’t feel safe again until the Demodogs are dead, and she’s hunkered down in the back of an unmarked van, Carol pressed tight against her side, like there’s nowhere else she’d rather be.

The bat feels right in her hands, like it fits the grooves in her fingers perfectly, even after all this time without it.

She might never let it go again.

It’s a struggle not to get out of the van and beat Billy Hargrove’s face in with it, but Carol Perkins is rolling around on top of him, fists flying, and someone’s got to watch her best friend while she’s busy.

She keeps Steve behind her, bat raised in case that creep takes even one step toward them.

Her palms feel bare when Max snatches the bat out of her hands, wielding it against her own brother.

Things happen fast after that. The de-possession of Steve Harrington leaves her breathless and shaking in clothes soaked through. She huddles into the passenger seat of the van and watches Carol drive.

She’s not a good driver, a little too fast, taking curves too wide, but with her best friend passed out in the back seat, Barb can’t blame her. It’s not until they’re parked and climbing out that Carol whispers into her ear, “I don’t have my license.”

Barb’s laugh is too loud, undercutting the somber mood surrounding them. Carol nudges into Barb’s side, looking pleased enough that she kind of wants to strangle her.

They’re separated once they reach the hospital. Barb endures the doctor’s examination with as much grace as possible, staring at the closed door of her exam room as they bandage her minor scrapes.

Carol had been much worse—a bruise already swelling up the side of her face, cuts on her palms, god knows what else hiding beneath her clothes.

It doesn’t take long for them to set her loose. She peeks through the open door of Steve’s hospital room, but Carol’s not there, it’s just Ms. Byers and Will sitting dociley at Steve’s side as he slumbers on.

Placing her vulnerable back to the wall, Barb drops to the cold linoleum outside his door to wait. Her head tips back, eyes closed as she listens to Will and Ms. Byers quiet voices.

Something nudges Barb’s leg, and her eyes shoot open. Carol’s peering down at her, the toe of her shoe pushed up against Barb’s thigh. The palm of one of her hands is wrapped in white gauze, and there’s something shiny lathered across her swelling cheek.

She’s still covered in Demodog blood and dirt. Barb doubts she looks much better.

“What are you doing?” Barb asks.

Carol snorts. “What am I doing? You’re the one on the floor.”

She holds out her hand, palm open and beckoning. Barb takes it without thought. Carol attempts to pull her up, almost going down herself until Barb raises to her knees by her own power.

Once she’s up, Carol doesn’t immediately let go. Barb trails fingers soothingly over the gauze on her palm as Carol peers into Steve’s hospital room.

“Have you heard anything?” Carol asks.

Barb shakes her head before realizing Carol isn’t looking at her. “No.” They both stand there for a moment, staring at Steve Harrington’s sleeping form, hand in hand. “We should go home.”

Carol whips her head around, a mean snarl on her face. She looks half-feral, cardigan ripped and stained, hair plastered to the side of her head, the only clean thing on her the pristine white of the gauze on her hand. “What?”

Barb squeezes her hand, resisting the urge to shush her like she’s a spooked horse. “We need to rest—”

“But—”

“—and Eddie’s not going to leave,” Barb continues, talking right over her, “so someone needs to be ready to relieve him when he drops.”

Carol continues glaring for a second before rolling her eyes with a muttered, “boys.”

Barb’s hand itches to reach out when Carol drops her hand. She doesn’t, just takes two quick strides to catch up with Carol as she starts off down the hallway without a word.

“Wanna call your parents?” Carol asks. “We’ll need a ride.”

Barb grimaces. Her Mom will be worried by now, and it’ll only get worse if she strolls in covered in dirt and unexplainable grime. She’s not ready to face her suffocating care.

“Think I’d rather walk,” Barb mutters.

Carol’s lips quirk up, and she grabs Barb’s wrist, fingers like a brand on her skin as she pulls her along. “Come on.”

She’s pulled to the van where they’d abandoned it in the parking lot. She doesn’t protest when Carol pushes her into the passenger seat. 

“I thought you didn’t have a license,” she says, already buckling her seatbelt. 

Carol does something Barb can’t quite grasp to the dangling wires of the van, and the engine sparks back into life. She looks back to Barb with a wild grin, not bothering with her own seatbelt before backing out of the space and peeling out of the parking lot. 

“I think we’ll have bigger legality issues if we get pulled over.”

Barb hums, watching the trees and houses blur past. They’re not going in the direction of her house. She can’t bring herself to care. Just the thought of walking through her front door makes her shudder. Wherever Carol brings them, it’s bound to be more peaceful. 

“We could’ve walked,” Barb replies, not looking away from the window.

“You would’ve dropped.” 

She’s probably right. Even seated, Barb’s legs feel shaky with fatigue, and the bumps and bruises on her body ache with every movement. Barb sighs, slumping further into her seat as the miles pass by. 

Carol pulls into the driveway of an unfamiliar house. They both sit, staring up at it for an endless moment before Carol pulls at the dangling wires and the engine cuts out, leaving potent silence in its wake. 

She shuffles into the back to grab the bat from where Max had abandoned it after whatever the hell they’d done when they’d taken the van for a joyride. 

“Come on,” Carol orders before jumping out of the van and jogging up to the front door with energy Barb can’t understand.

Barb follows Carol inside. 

***

Carol closes the front door behind them both. She pushes her face against the closed door, sighing as the silence of her vacant house falls over them both.

“Carol?”

She lets herself droop against the door for a second more, tired beyond what words can convey, before dropping the bat beside it like a discarded umbrella. It thunks ominously against the hardwood. She hopes the wood scars.

When she levers herself back fully upright and turns to face her guest, Barb looks just as exhausted, the drooping of her eyes amplified by the round lenses of her glasses. They’re covered in mud and blood, both red and black, so Carol turns without a word and leads the way toward the bathroom. 

When she opens the door, her Mom’s clothes are discarded on the floor, and there’s remnants of make-up all over the sink. Carol looks down at the proof of her Mother’s existence and feels nothing at all. She bends down to grab a clean towel from beneath the cupboard and places it into Barb’s waiting arms.

“I’ll get you some clothes,” Carol says quietly, shuffling past Barb and closing the bathroom door behind her.

The separation cuts, so she hurries into her bedroom to rummage through her dresser for something suitable to wear. Barb’s bigger than her, both tall and broad, so she digs through her drawer until she finds a sufficiently oversized shirt and a pair of Steve’s sweatpants.

She stares down at the bundle of clothes for a moment before pulling out a cozy pair of socks as well.

The bathroom’s unlocked when she makes it back, shower already running, so she opens the door and puts the pile of clothes on the toilet. But when she turns back to the door, she can’t bring herself to leave.

She closes the door and jumps up onto the counter to wait.

Barb’s glasses are abandoned beside the sink. Carol picks them up gently, holding them up to her eyes to peer through. Barb’s eyesight must be atrocious, because even looking through them for a moment leaves her queasy.

Without getting off the counter, she turns sideways on her perch to run them under warm water. When the stubborn black stains persist, she uses her fingers to gently smooth hand soap over the spots. They slowly disintegrate under her ministrations, leaving black drips in the basin of the sink.

Carol turns off the water and wipes them dry on the cleanest part of her shirt.

That done, she stares at the closed curtain, waiting for Barb to emerge so she can have her turn.

It doesn’t take long before the shower shuts off entirely, bathroom quiet aside from the dripping of the leaky showerhead. Barb must know she’s in here because her hand reaches out to snag her towel from the rack without pulling back the curtain, and when she finally opens it, the towel’s wrapped securely around her body.

She’s still dripping, hair a curly wet mess atop her head.

Carol gazes at her, transfixed. Barb tends toward long-sleeved shirts and full pants, so the freckles are a surprise. They travel down her shoulders, fading until they disappear entirely beneath the towel. Her skin’s pale aside from the mottled bruises on her knees, and she’s full of soft, rounded curves.

Carol’s fingers twitch against the porcelain lip of the counter as she stares thoughtlessly at the sliver of Barb’s thigh that shows in the gap where the drapery of the towel doesn’t quite close.

Barb clears her throat, and Carol raises her eyes back up to her face. She looks strange without her glasses, eyes somehow smaller in her skull. “I brought you clothes,” Carol says, not looking away from her.

Barb’s eyes flit around the bathroom until they catch on the clothes folded neatly on the closed toilet lid. She nods, stepping carefully over the lip of the tub, now dripping on the linoleum of the bathroom floor.

Now that the shower’s free, Carol’s skin damn near itches with grime. She slips off the counter and slides past Barb, her shoulder brushing Barb’s arm. She hopes none of the filth on her body transfers to Barb’s clean skin.

Carol slides the curtain closed before stepping out of her clothes and tossing them onto the floor, piled atop Barb’s own discarded attire. She stands there, naked and chilled straight through, listening to the sounds of Barb shuffling into clothing Carol hopes will fit her.

She waits for the sound of the bathroom door opening. It doesn’t come.

The water’s already hot when she turns it on. Her shoulders drop immediately, all that tension she’s been collecting in her spine for days sloughing off by increments. She shoves her whole head under the stream.

It stings against her bruised eye, but she doesn’t care, too relieved to watch all that grime swirl down the drain. Only once the water runs clear does she fumble for the shampoo and soap, sudsing everything up until her skin’s squeaking.

She half-assedly smears conditioner through her hair but doesn’t let it sit long. Barb’s too quiet out there.

There’d been a half-assed attempt to keep her bandage dry, but they’re sloughing off her palm by the time she’s done. She wads them into a ball and tosses them into the corner of the tub to be dealt with later. 

She follows Barb’s lead and grabs her towel before opening the shower curtain, more for Barb than for propriety's sake. No need to add more traumas to the day.

Barb’s sitting on the toilet lid, polished glasses back on the bridge of her nose, hair toweled off but still wet and uncombed. The shirt’s slightly loose on her, but Steve’s sweatpants are just a smidge too tight around her ass and thighs.

Her eyes are closed like she’s been dozing, but they’re clear when she opens them at the sound of Carol’s voice.

“You good?” she asks, waiting until Barb nods to make her way out of the bathroom, dripping steadily on her Mother’s precious carpet on her way to her bedroom.

Carol doesn’t close the door, so Barb follows her inside. She pulls out her pajamas – the fuzzy set of shorts and long-sleeved shirt covered in cute little bears – turning her back to Barb to cursorily dry herself and slip them on without undergarments.

When she turns back around, Barb’s sitting on the edge of the bed, hands clasped in front of her, already looking her way. They look at each other in the bright light of Carol’s room. She feels stalled out, overwhelmed to the point of inaction by the few things she needs to do before she can crawl in beside Barb.

Barb clears her throat. It clicks dryly, and Carol’s fingers clench in on themselves. “Where am I sleeping?”

Carol stares down at her from across the room, feeling stupid and slow as she tries to make her brain think. “Right there,” she replies, gesturing half-heartedly at the bed Barb’s already perched on. “Climb in, and I’ll be right back, okay?”

Carol turns without waiting for an answer, each step she takes away from Barb twinging with danger until she’s damn near running to the kitchen.

She gets the bread out of the breadbox by rote, pulling peanut butter from the cupboard and strawberry jam from the fridge and laying it all down near the silverware drawer.

She makes them both the way she likes them—crunchy peanut butter spread thick, jam meticulously pressed all the way to the crust’s edge. They should eat a real meal, but Carol’s repertoire starts and ends with sandwiches, and even cutting a slice of cheese sounds insurmountable right now. So, peanut butter and jelly it is.

It's a struggle to balance the plate stacked with both sandwiches and a couple of waters already, but she still goes back for the bat, bending to squeeze it in the clutch of her armpit, hoping the nails don’t gouge her as she rushes back to Barb.

Barb’s eyebrows raise when she sees the bat, but she doesn’t comment from where she’s already beneath her pink paisley sheets, glasses lined up neatly on her bedside table. Carol loosens her hold and lets it drop harmlessly on the carpet at the foot of her bed, black flaking off where it’s caked onto the nails.

She’ll have to find somewhere else to hide it in case either of her parents poke their heads into her room.

She’d slept with a comfort stuffed animal until she was twelve and Tommy’d made fun of her. Now he’s stuffed beneath her bed, watching over her the only way she’ll allow. The bat’s a new kind of comfort object, but maybe she can put it under her bed with Mr. Rabbit, both watching over her from different kinds of threats.

“You’re not allergic to nuts, are you?” Carol asks, already sliding into the bed beside her and putting the plate in the space between their legs.

Barb reaches out to grab one of the water bottles from Carol’s hands, and chugs it to the dregs. Carol watches her throat work, enraptured. She only answers once she’s wiped the water from her mouth and picked up one of the sandwiches.

“Nope.” She takes a big bite out of the sandwich, and then continues around her mouthful, “thanks.”

Carol follows her lead. There are crumbs everywhere, neither of them bothering to eat over the singular plate. Something ravenous opens within her as she eats, the queasiness of malnutrition fading into a need to be filled.

She’s still hungry when she finishes, but just the thought of walking all the way back to the kitchen feels like an insurmountable journey.

Carol drinks her water and lays down on her back, staring up at the harsh overhead lighting. Clearly sensing the same issue, Barb stumbles out of bed to flip the light switch. Carol watches her stand there, stationary in the darkness of Carol’s room.

Carol reaches her arm out to pull the chord on her bedside lamp, letting its diffuse light filter through the room. Barb’s shoulders slump with the force of her sigh. She closes the bedroom door and crawls back into Carol’s bed.

When Carol reaches back over to turn the light off now that Barb’s ensconced in the safety of her bedding, Barb grabs her forearm, halting the movement. She can feel the warmth of Barb’s body pressed all against her back, over her shoulder, around her arm.

“Leave it on,” Barb asks, breath ghosting over the back of Carol’s neck.

Her breath shudders out of her, and she drops her hand. “Sure.”

The light’s dim enough not to blind them in the night, but when Carol flops back onto her back, she can just make out the popcorn indents of her ceiling. Barb doesn’t move back, so they’re pressed together, shoulder to thigh.

Carol holds her breath, afraid that any movement on her part will break the spell and Barb will scoot back to her side of the bed properly. Instead, Barb trails her hand down, fingers brushing lightly over the skin of Carol’s arm until she reaches her hand. Carol flips her hand over, palm in the air, fingers open just enough for Barb to slide hers in.

Her wrist’s at an awkward angle, so Carol scoots closer until her arm’s got enough give to twist. Barb rubs her thumb against the back of Carol’s hand, and her breath shudders out of her on a sigh as she slumps further into Barb’s side.

She rubs her bare foot against Barb’s calf, toes getting caught in the loose fabric of her sweatpants. It’s like in the forest all over again, she wants to get closer, closer, closer, until she can feel Barb’s heart beating within her ribs.

Proof of life.

She wants to slide her hands beneath Barb’s shirt and feel her soft skin give beneath her fingernails, taste it beneath her tongue. She’s still hungry, and tired, and Barb’s alive beside her.

She feels Barb pull on her hand, a barely perceptible nudge to get her closer, and Carol can’t stand it anymore, all the space and clothing between them. She twists further, thigh over Barb’s lap and levers herself up with the hand not still clasped in Barb’s own.

When she looks down at her, Barb’s lips are parted, and she’s already gasping, eyes half-lidded as she looks up into Carol’s own. She squirms a little on the bed, gaze dropping down to Carol’s lips.

She grasps the invitation with both hands, brushing their mouths together gently. When Barb makes no move to buck her off, she swings her leg more firmly over the other girl’s waist, and deepens the kiss, sucking Barb’s bottom lip into her mouth and biting down until she writhes beneath her.

Her face aches as she opens her mouth wider, but she doesn’t care. Carol loses herself in the paisley pink sheets full of crumbs, a beautiful girl beneath her, bathed in the dim light of her bedside lamp.

 ***

Barb’s damn near suffocating on Carol’s breath. She breathes it in greedily, makes no move to pull away as Carol drags her tongue against her gums. She opens her mouth wider, following the trail Carol’s tongue leaves with her own until they brush against each other.

Her hands are clutching at Carol’s hips hard enough that it must hurt as she tries to drag the other girl’s body even closer. She can feel Carol swivel her hips, grinding against Barb’s waist like she can’t help herself. Barb uses the grip she has on her hips to make her grind against her again, and that’s what makes Carol pull her mouth away with a gasp.

She’s panting like a dog in heat, lightheaded with oxygen deprivation. Barb opens her eyes and immediately groans at the sight of Carol, head thrown back, tangled wet hair partially blocking the look of ecstasy on her face. Her sleep shorts are riding up indecently high on her thighs, bunching at the crotch with the friction of her movements.

The hem of her shirt’s askew just enough to show a thin strip of the pale, unblemished skin of her stomach. Barb trails her hands up without thought, letting them clench at Carol’s waist instead. They look huge against her, almost connecting in the middle when Barb squeezes. She pushes her fingers up further until they disappear beneath her shirt entirely.

Carol’s ribs are bony beneath her grasp, contrasting with the soft give of the flesh of her breasts where her thumbs just barely brush against the bottom of them. Her eyes dart up to Carol’s face, and their gazes lock.

Carol’s lips are swollen from kissing and wet with saliva, and her pupils are blown until her eyes are all black, fathomless in the low light of her bedroom. She doesn’t look away until she’s reaching down with sure fingers to the hem of her shirt and pulling it off in one, quick movement.

She’s not wearing a bra. Barb knew that, but the sight of Carol’s nipples still shocks her into stuttered breathing. They’re a darker pink than Barb’s own, verging on brown. Barb’s fingers twitch against Carol’s ribs, thumbs trailing a line against the underside of her small breasts, transfixed.

She might’ve stalled out there for hours, barely breathing if Carol hadn’t covered both Barb’s hands with her own and slid them up until her nipples were covered by the palms of her hands. Barb’s eyes dart back up to Carol’s face to find her eyes closed, as she bites her lip hard enough to blanche it white.

Her breasts are small enough that Barb’s hands hide them from view entirely. She experimentally squeezes them both. They feel nice in her hands, but Carol doesn’t even twitch. So, she trails the fingers of her left hand down the curve of Carol’s waist until she shivers. She adjusts her right hand until Carol’s dusty nipple peaks through the gap between her pointer and middle finger, then squeezes tight.

Carol shudders as her nipple perks up. Barb switches hands and does it to the other, harder this time until Carol’s hips twitch in an abortive movement to grind against her waist. Encouraged, Barb squeezes Carol’s hip, letting her nails dig into delicate flesh as she guides Carol’s movements into a dirty grind.

She groans, bending forward to lick into Barb’s mouth like she can’t help herself. Barb moves both hands to her hips, trying to pull her impossibly closer as she opens her mouth wide.

Barb’s squirming beneath her, too turned on to stay still as she’s consumed. As if sensing her need, Carol shifts on top of her, until she’s straddling Barb’s thigh. She grinds against it, her knee just barely brushing against where Barb’s wet in her sweatpants. Barb writhes, trying to get any pressure.

Carol grabs Barb’s knee almost harshly as she yanks it up and open. Still straddling her other thigh, Carol grinds forward, dragging her clothed cunt against Barb. She can feel it now, the rough drag of her sweatpants against her swollen labia. She shudders with it, letting her thighs spread wider, giving Carol a bigger space to work within.

Carol shifts her hips, changing the angle of her thrusting until Barb groans as pressure’s finally applied to her clit, closing her eyes in pleasure. Carol’s manicured nails dig into the meat of Barb’s thigh, holding her stationary as she grinds against that same place until Barb’s breathing is ragged.

When Carol starts making these delicious little moaning sounds, Barb opens her eyes, desperate to get a look at her. There’s pink high on both of her cheeks, and she’s looking down at Barb like she wants to eat her alive.

Barb might just let her.

She’s shuddering with every breath. Barb wants to taste the air coming out of her mouth, let it slide onto her tongue and swallow it down. Her breasts are shaking with the pressure of her thrusting, the erratic expanding of her lungs. The blush is traveling down her neck, splattering her chest with red. She wants to run her tongue along the edges of it, see if she can feel the heat of her pooling blood.

She wants to taste and touch everything, carve it all into her sense memory to get off to during lonely nights to come.

Carol grinds against her just so and her head tips back, eyes closed against a moan of her own.

She wants to stay here in this moment, feeling the steeped pleasure of a beautiful girl taking what she needs from her. She’ll take what she’s given and be happy with it, no better than a pillow to be rubbed off against.

But then Carol’s nails rake hard against her inner thigh and Barb cries out, the feeling of it zinging straight to her core, back arching up off the bed with the heady feeling of it.

“Look at me,” Carol demands, voice raspy with exertion.

Barb’s eyelids flutter open. There are red nail marks along her thigh, Carol’s fingers pressed into the end of them hard enough that her flesh flexes and gives beneath the pressure.

She digs her nails in again, blanching Barb’s pink skin white as she hisses, “at me.”

Barb’s eyes dart to her without conscious thought, following her command, like Carol’s holding a string, puppeting her around with her every fleeting whim. There’s no other choice when Carol’s telling her what to do in that tone of voice.

Her pupils are huge and black, irises not visible with her lids at half-mast. They close almost entirely once Barb meets them, and like that was all she was waiting for, Carol throws her head back and grinds against her once, twice, thrice, before shuddering on a long, drawn-out moan as her orgasm wracks through her.

Barb gasps as she watches Carol shiver, collapsing against Barb’s raised thigh like it’s the only thing keeping her upright, hair covering what must be a spectacular look on her face. Her breasts are rubbing against Barb’s inner thigh with every shuddering attempt to breathe.

She’s never been this turned on in her life.  

Barb slides her hand beneath the too-tight hem of her sweatpants, threading her fingers through her pubic hair, and pressing her middle finger into the edge of her clit. It’s a dry slide, but she rubs it again, and again, and again, too revved up to do anything else.

She’s too lost in sensation to notice what Carol’s doing until her hand’s wrapped around Barb’s wrist and she yanks it out of her pants. A horrible whine bursts out of her throat as she tries to buck up into fingers that are now pinned to the pillow beside her head as Carol looms over her looking fucked out and rabid.

Carol looks into her eyes, and Barb has a second to wonder if this is just a thing for her before she feels Carol’s small hand slide into her sweatpants and press directly into her clit with unerring accuracy. She throws her head back into the pillow, back arching until Carol uses her weight to push her into to the mattress.

She presses against it for a few more seconds before sliding her fingers down through Barb’s folds. She whines at the loss until Carol presses one of her fingers into her, and she loses all her breath entirely.

She’s fingered herself before, but her hand always cramps before anything ever comes of it, and the angle’s just off enough that she gives up before anything starts to feel good.

Carol has no such compunctions. She presses her finger in, deeper than Barb’s ever managed. She fucks it in and out a few times, slow and concentrated, before she pushes another finger in along with the first.

It doesn’t feel like much more than pressure until she thrusts back in and her fingers curl.

Barb gasps, arching up against Carol as she continues to thrust into her, unerringly hitting that spot inside that makes her toes curl. The sounds her cunt’s making in the quiet room are loud, a wet schlicking sound with each press of Carol’s fingers that might embarrass Barb if she could focus past the heat building within her.  

It's deeper than anything she’s ever felt before, a pressure building in her abdomen and creeping into the rest of her until she’s a live wire. It’s too much. She tries to close her thighs against the feeling, but Carol’s between them. Barb clutches onto the sheets beneath her as Carol squeezes her wrist, pushing into her more firmly as Barb writhes against the feeling of being consumed. 

She’s on the edge of something, an abyss she’s not sure she wants to fall into. She’s thrumming, electrified as Carol takes what she wants from her.

It’s too much.

It’s not enough.

But then Carol twists her arm, fingers still thrusting within her as she presses the heel of her hand down, rubbing harshly against her clit, and Barb seizes, entire body locking up with the power of her orgasm as she comes all over Carol Perkins’ fingers.

Sparks fly beneath her closed lids as the feeling goes on, and on, Carol’s hand working her through it between her locked thighs. She’s lost in it, gone to the sensation for a timeless moment.

Carol continues fucking into her until Barb feels her body go lax, thighs splaying without anyone holding them in place. Aftershocks twitch through her limbs as neurons misfire, sending her muscles spasming.

The sound Carol’s fingers make as she pulls them out is embarrassing, made more so as Barb feels her wipe off the excessive wetness onto her pubic hair. She cracks open her eyes just in time to watch Carol stick her tacky fingers into her mouth and suck.

Barb throws her arm over her eyes and groans with breath she doesn’t have to spare as Carol laughs, pressing the warmth of her body into Barb’s side. 

***

“This never happened,” Barb says, shuddering in the aftershocks, neck red with exertion.

Carol tucks her face into Barb, sinking into her until her blooming smile is hidden in the armpit of her shirt. Her whole body’s tingling, from her thighs all the way up to the roots of her teeth. She bites down on the buttery soft material beneath her, grinding her molars into it until Barb shoves her off.

Her arm’s still covering her face, hair a riot of red curls atop her head. Carol wants to smooth them back, tuck them behind her ears even if they spring back up. But, Barb’s pulling away, still flushed from sex, so she asks, “can it never happen again a few more times?” in the hopes of making her laugh.

She just groans, but her forearm lowers enough for her to glare at Carol, and that’s progress in and of itself. Carol grabs the softening with both hands, walking her fingers up the underside of Barb’s arm until the offending hand is slapped away. 

“Aren’t you still dating Tommy?”

Carol’s dangling fingers curl into a fist, eyes dropping to her stupid fucking duvet cover, no longer able to meet Barb’s fierce glare. The truth is, it hadn’t been like this with Tommy since they’d lost Steve. The truth is, she’d forgotten Tommy even existed while she’d been lost in Barb’s eyes, and had been happier for it. The truth is, there’s a vacant spot on her back where Barb’s is supposed to be pressed, and her hands feel empty now if she’s not clutching a bat full of nails, and it’s been two fucking days. 

The truth is, Carol’s not sure she can unravel truth from fiction anymore.

She’d followed a kid to a junk yard to fight fucking monsters, poured boiling water on her best friend to de-possess him, and fucked a girl who’s name she hadn’t even known last year. 

Reality was stretched to the point of breaking. 

But, it’d all started to coalesce back together between Barb’s thighs. She’s not ready to let it fall apart again.

Carol rolls onto her back and stares at her stupid popcorn ceiling, fingers fisted around the empty space where Barb’s hand should be. As Barb regains her breathing, the silence settles between them like a third, stilted lover in her bed. 

She’s not ready to share.

“Tommy and I haven’t really worked since Steve left,” she tells the ceiling. Part of her, a stagnant, wounded part, will always want that time back, when it was just the three of them being unrepentant assholes together. But those times have been gone longer than she’s been willing to admit. It’s time for something new. “It was only a matter of time.”

Barb makes a little humming noise, like she’s listening but doesn’t know what to say, so Carol does what she’s always done best: talks. “You know, it’s weird. We barely know each other, and I think if you left right now, I’d spend the rest of the night clutching the baseball bat to my chest and hiding in my closet.”

Barb clears her throat, says, “it was like that last time.” When Carol looks at her from the corner of her eyes, she’s lowered her arm, and she’s staring at the ceiling, too, shoulder to shoulder. “With Nance and Jonathan.”

Carol snorts, already knowing the answer as she asks, “what, you fucked them, too?”

The blush on Barb’s cheeks that had finally been receding, returns with vengeance, painting her face and neck a splotchy red. Carol still wants to lick it, so she swivels her head away and stares back at the ceiling, hand still clenching on empty air. 

“No,” Barb whispers, soft and private just before she feels her fingers ghost over Carol’s fist. 

She loosens it just enough that Barb can pry it open. Carol shudders as Barb’s fingers thread through her own, caressing the delicate flesh between them until they’re linked– Barb’s hand dwarfing her own in its hold. 

Carol squeezes, and Barb squeezes back as they stare up at the ceiling in silence and think of their sins. She’s coming up empty, though. She’d do it all again to feel Barb’s hand in hers.

“You’ll break up with your boyfriend?” Barb asks. 

Carol smiles, letting go of Barb’s hand just long enough to flop back against her chest, this time turned toward Barb like a flower to the sun. 

“This your way of asking me to go steady?” she asks, flicking her eyebrows up suggestively.

“Fuck off,” Barb says, but it sounds tender, and she wraps her arm around Carol’s naked back and pulls her closer. 

She’s still laughing as she reaches up to press her mouth to Barb’s, soft and lingering, all heat sucked out of the moment. Barb’s lips move against hers, gently enough that Carol inexplicably feels as if she might cry. 

When the kiss breaks, she stays close, breathing in the air that Barb expels. People look weird from this angle, proportions skewed with perspective, but she can see all the freckles on Barb’s nose, each of her pale eyelashes, the ruddy complexion of her cheeks.

She leans down to lick a stripe up Barb’s cheek, mapping out the warmth of her blush as Barb laughs and tries to push her head down and away while keeping her arms clutched around Carol’s waist. 

“Stop that!” Barb cries, but she’s laughing. 

So, Carol bites Barb’s cheek, just once, face aching with the width she has to open her mouth. Barb’s skin tastes clean on her tongue, fragile beneath her teeth. When Barb pushes her again, Carol lets her jaw relax. 

She tucks her face into Barb’s neck, teeth tingling once more. Carol brushes her nose back and forth against Barb’s soft skin, eyelids heavy tucked into the darkness of her body.

“We should go to sleep,” Carol says, wondering what time it is, but unwilling to turn around and take a look at the glowing red numbers of her alarm. 

This has been the longest day of her life, and she’s a little afraid to let it end.

“You’re the one fooling around.”

Carol smiles, pressing a gentle kiss to the delicate skin of Barb’s neck before replying, “I think that was both of us, dear.”

Barb wacks her in the back in response, but immediately starts rubbing up and down her bare skin after. Carol melts, boneless at the feeling of Barb’s warm hands, like a spooked horse being soothed. 

She can hear Barb’s heartbeat beneath her head, feel the expanding of her lungs with every even breath. There’s no room for silence to settle between them. This moment is too loud. 

“Will you go with me?” Carol whispers, lips brushing against Barb’s skin with every word.

“Of course,”

Carol smiles again. Her mouth’s going to start aching against the strain, unused to utilizing those particular muscles this frequently. “I didn’t even say where.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Barb replies. Her fingers trail up Carol’s back to play with her hair. It’s tangled enough that Barb’s fingers immediately get stuck, so she begins delicately unpicking the knots. “I’ll go anywhere, as long as it’s with you,”

Carol’s still fucking smiling. It feels wrong, somehow, to let this warmth in. Steve’s in the hospital, burns on his back that she put there. She doesn’t know what’s going to happen when he wakes up, doesn’t know, not really, if he’ll wake up at all.

But those are worries for tomorrow. She can’t bring them into this moment. Won’t. It’s too fragile already. 

So she says, “let’s go to bed,” and presses one last kiss to Barb’s neck. 

They squirm futilely, attempting to get Carol’s comforter up and over their bodies without getting off of it. It would’ve been easier to stand, but they’re safe, and warm, and Carol’s reluctant to create even the smallest space between them. 

They don’t turn out the light. 

Thank you @queenie-ofthe-void for the beta editing! As always, you make everything I write so much better <3

[whoisshel]

The Weirdo on Maple Street

pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

word count: 2116

tw: swearing

The next morning, you're walking into school with Jonathan, who is putting up missing poster signs for his brother. As you both walk from the middle school, where you just put a poster, over to the high school, Jonathan is relaying everything that happened the night before and what Chief Hopper told him and his mom this morning.

“So, your mom got a phone call last night that she believes was from Will, but Hopper is saying that it was a prank call?” You reiterate everything Jonathan just told you to make sure you are getting everything right. “And she also said that something shocked her through the phone, like what?”

“I don’t know, Hopper says it was the storm, but how is that possible?”

“Yeah, that seems weird,” You reply, extremely confused by the whole situation. “The entire thing is all a bit weird to be honest.”

Jonathan opens the door to the high school, holding it for you to walk through first. You mumble a thank you, walking over to the bulletin board. Jonathan starts putting up one of the missing person posters as he says, “He also wants to go to Lonnie’s to see if Will went there.”

“Why would Will go to Lonnie’s?”

“That’s what I’m thinking, so I told him that I’d go there to see if Will is actually hiding out there.” 

“You’re going to go to Lonnie’s?” You asked concerned about Jonathan, knowing that Jonathan and his dad don’t have a good relationship.

“Yeah, I’m going to go after I put this poster up.” Jonathan replied nonchalantly, trying to make it seem like it was no big deal.

“Do you want me to go with you?”

“No, it’s-” Jonathan starts to say before he’s interrupted by Nancy walking up to them.

“Hey.” Nancy said timidly

“Oh, hey.” Jonathan says back, just as reserved as she is, but a bit more confused as to why she came up to them.

Feeling a bit awkward standing beside the two, you decide to make your exit from the conversation, “I’m going to go, but I’ll talk to you later, Jonathan.”

Jonathan mutters a goodbye back to you, as you make your way down the hallway. As you’re about to walk past Barb, Steve, Tommy, and Carol; Tommy decides to step in front of you to block your path. Not wanting to deal with him today, you try to go around him, but Tommy just takes a step to the side and ends up blocking your path again. Now annoyed and seeing there’s no getting around, you sighs, “What the fuck do you want, Tommy.”

“What, I just want to see how my favorite town slut is doing.” Tommy smirks at you with a condescending look in his eyes.

You smirks right back at Tommy, “I think you’re mistaking me for your girlfriend.” You turn to Carol and give her a short wave seeing the mad look on her face. You then turned back to Tommy seeing the same angry look.

“What did you just say?” Tommy shoves you causing you to take a step back.

“Are you deaf?” You ask, speaking slowly, taking a step forward to get in Tommy’s face. “Your girlfriend is a slut, and you,” poking his chest, “Are a little bitch.”

This time Tommy pushes you so hard that you fall to the ground hitting you head. Carol and Tommy let out a loud laugh, while Barb gasps and Steve yells, “Tommy!”

Turning over onto your hands and knees, you start to try and pick up your stuff that had scattered. Before you could pick it all up, Tommy had pushed you back down to the ground as Carol kicked your stuff across the hallway ground, “Who’s the little bitch now!” Tommy yelled as the couple laughed and walked away.

“Are you okay?” Someone asks from behind you. You turn around to sit on the ground, looking up to see it was Steve who asked the question and is crouching over you with your books in his hand.

You roughly grabbed your things out of Steve’s hand, sending him a glare, “Why do you care, just leave me alone and go back to the piece of shits you call friends.”

“Why are you mad at me? I didn't say anything.” You both stood up taking a step back from each other creating a big gap between you.

“That’s the problem, you don’t ever say anything,” You snapped, “You always just stand there and never do anything, while your friends push everyone else around and treat them like trash! You’re no better than they are.”

Steve is left speechless with a shocked look on his face, while you just stand there glaring at him. Loud footsteps coming from behind Steve break the stares between the two. Eddie stops running in front of you standing in between you and Steve, grabbing your shoulders lightly checking you over to see if you’re injured before turning around to face Steve, “What the hell did you do?”

“He didn’t do anything.” You answer, tugging on Eddie’s arm, “Let’s just go.”

Turning around, the two walk down the hall past Nancy and Barb who were just standing there watching everything go down. Eddie wraps an arm around your shoulder and you wrap one around his waist. Eddie looks down at his girlfriend sincerely, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, my head just hurts a little.” You responded, causing Eddie to rub the back of your head and kiss the top of it.

“I’m going to kick Tommy’s ass!” Eddie ranted loudly.

You giggled at Eddie’s statement looking up at him. Eddie looked down at you, starting to laugh along with you seeing the genuine humor in your eyes.

—-----------------

“He’s such a douchebag.” You fumed to Robin, who you were talking to on the phone. Laying on your back in the bed with one hand holding the phone while the other messed around in your hair. Your legs bent, feet planted on your bed as you crossed and uncrossed them. You had been ranting to Robin about you day and what happened with Steve and his group of shitty friends.

“No kidding, I don’t get how he got someone as innocent as Nancy Wheeler.” Robin replied.

“Because she’s too naive and blinded by his popularity to see how horrible he really is.”

“Let’s just forget about them,” Robin sighed, “We could probably go on for hours about all the messed up shit they’ve done, just to us.”

Chuckling and checking the alarm clock on the bedside table seeing that it was 7 o’clock, you replied, “I think we have been, but you’re right, forget them, how do you think you did on the Chemistry test?”

Before Robin could reply a yell came from your mom downstairs, “Y/N!”

“Oh, hold on my mom’s yelling for me.” Pulling the phone away from you slightly, you yelled back to your mom, “What?!”

“Ow.” Robin mumbled

Not getting a reply back from your mom, you put the phone back to your ear now annoyed that you had to get up to see what your mom wanted, “I’ve got to call you back, my mom needs something.”

“Alright, see you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow.” You said back, sitting up to set the phone back in its place. You stood up and walked out the door down the stairs into the living room where your mom sat drinking wine and watching Dallas, “What?”

Not even looking at you, your mom picked a manila folder full of papers off the side table and handed it over to you, saying, “I need you to bring this over to the Harrington’s, Steve’s the only one home, so just hand it to him.”

“I don’t want to go over there, why can’t you do it?” You complained, not wanting to see Steve after today’s events.

“I’m busy.” Your mom stated, picking up her wine glass and swishing it around, still not tearing her eyes from the TV.

“If it’s just Steve there, then why does it need to be brought tonight?” You asked, persisting in your attempt to get out of doing it.

Finally, looking away from the television, your mom looked up at you with a look of defeat, or was it annoyance, “Honey, can you please just do this without the need to whine about it.”

“Whatever.” You grumbled, turning around to grab your keys and head over to the Harrington’s

—------------

Pulling into Steve’s driveway, you noticed another car parked next to Steve’s and heard music blaring from his house. Recognizing the other car as Tommy’s, you drop your head onto the steering wheel, “Fuck me.”

Taking a deep breath, you opened the car door and got out. As you walked up to the door, you gave yourself a little pep talk, “Not fuck me, fuck them. All I’m going to do is knock on the door, hand Steve the folder, and then leave.” Making it up to the door, you raised your hand to knock, but paused to take another deep breath, “You’ve got this.”

Knocking on the door, you barely even waited a minute before Steve answered the door; as if he was waiting for someone. 

Not completely looking to see who was at the door, Steve had a big smile on his face as he started to say, “Hello, ladies-y. Y/N?” Steve’s smile dropped once he saw it was you instead of the two other girls he thought it was, “What are you doing here?”

Ignoring his question, you shoved the folder into his chest, “This is for your parents from mine, bye now.” You quickly turned around and walked towards the car.

“Hey, wow, wow.” Steve stuttered out following after you, grabbing your arm to turn you around.

“What?!” You asked in more of a demanding tone than a questioning one, while ripping your arm out of his grasp and turning around to face him on your own accord, “What do you want from me, Steve?”

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” Steve sighed, looking at the ground before looking back up, “I’m really sorry, Y/N, for everything that I’ve never done.”

“Why,” You asked annoyedly, dropping your arms in an exaggerated manner, “Why does it matter now… because I finally called you out on your bullshit.”

“It’s always mattered, we used to be friends.” Steve confessed.

“Not since we were ten years old, and that was only because our parents are friends.”

“You were still my best friend, so I just wanted to apologize.” Steve said, taking a couple steps towards you, “Do you accept my apology or not?”

Feeling less annoyed, you started to calm down a bit, “If I say yes, does it get me out of here faster?”

“Yes.” a smile starting to grow on his face

“Then yes, I accept your apology.” 

“That’s great!” Steve cheered, a wide smile fully evident now. Opening his arms out, the folder still in one hand, he asked, “How about a hug?”

“Now you’re pushing it.” You grumbled, turning around to finish the walk to the car. Once you reached the driver’s door, you looked back over to Steve who stood in the same spot, “Have a goodnight, Steve.”

“Have a goodnight, Y/N.” Steve gave a small smile, then turned around to walk back into his house. 

You opened the car door and got in, starting the car and pulling out. As you were driving down the street, you spotted two girls who you recognized as Barb and Nancy. Giving them a small wave and forced smile as you drove past them.

—-----------

Instead of heading home, you drove into Forest Hills Trailer Park and parked in front of the trailer you knew very well. Knocking on the door, you were faced with a surprised face for the second time this night, this time the shock turned into an overjoyed look, “Hey, babe, what are you doing here?”

“Just wanted to see you.” You answered softly, feeling confused and a bit exhausted by the whole day.

Noticing the slight down-turn on your lips and distance in your eyes, Eddie grew concerned and asked, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing anymore.” You answered, as if the weight was lifted off your shoulders. Taking a step closer to Eddie, you wrapped your arms around his waist hiding your face in his chest taking in his scent of cigarettes and a small hint of his cologne. Eddie wrapped one arm around your neck and the other rubbed up and down your back.

“Come on, let’s go to bed.” Eddie said, taking a step back to let you into the trailer, leading you into his room.

[snexy-the-snail]

I'm about to make this everyone's problem

When their father had invited the bastard Triton did his best to avoid the quote unquote bonding, that Poseidon insisted that they participated in. More annoying no matter how many barbs and comments he made towards the boy he would not respond the way he expected an arrogant hero would.  

He didn’t know much of Perseus, just some titles that fish would gossip about and in general that he was the bastard of the sea. The kingdom referred to him as the littlest prince which absolutely made his blood boil. Perseus had no idea of what responsibilities, and such came with the title. His anger continued to roll through him. The night was truly the only time he could get some distance from the stubborn little brat. 

It was the third day since the boy had arrived and yet he found his nerves to already be shot. “I cannot believe father would bring him here.” he seethes under his breath strolling in the garden. Annoyingly enough the little terror had found comfort in the exotic sea plants so most of his strolls were interrupted by insistent questions of the most common knowledge. He was like a guppy in that respect, full of gaps of knowledge. He rolls his eyes smoothing his hair back, letting it down from the slicked back hair style he had in. He was just starting to relax when a piercing scream jolted him up, trident materializing in his hand before he could further process where it was coming from. 

Perseus. 

Someone DARED to attack the child in the palace?  

Triton grits his teeth as he shoots through the water, pushing himself to go faster, clouds of fish outside the boys balcony, they swarm him once he was in sight, pleading rapidly to help the little lord, to save him- the door blasts open swinging off their hinges. He was ready for danger, for an assailant, but there was..nothing. Just Perseus writhing on his bed, screaming and gasping for breath. His face was twisted like he was experiencing torture of the greatest kind.  

“Perseus? Truly a nightmare causes you to wail?” He hisses out tryout, to hide the fact his limbs trembled with relief. No assailant trying to assassinate the little bastard. The boy didn’t wake so he crept closer, in fact he was surprised when that made it worse. Celestial bronze suddenly illuminating the room ripping through the covers with ease and in turn his flesh, the sword slicing, golden ichor joining the glow. He lets several curses out, yanking the weapon from the boy. “Wake! Perseus!” He snaps, shaking the boys shoulders, grunting when the boys legs make contact with his middle. 

Ugh mortals and their ridiculous habits... well Father wasn’t here, and frankly he could not handle hearing the boys wails. Why not put the flailing body somewhere safe enough to make him relax? “You’re ridiculous, absolutely- there are guppies younger than you who can settle after nightmares” He grumbles to himself, shifting his size, keeping the wriggling boy in a loose fist. He flinches when Perseus fights harder, still unable to wake as it seemed, teeth sinking into his flesh as the boy tried his hardest to escape.  

It was as if he was fighting for his life... A sense of unease slowly settled in the pit of his stomach as he watched the small thing nearly take a chunk out of his hand, golden ichor clouding the water as Perseus clenched his jaw tighter. He didn’t look like an arrogant child at the moment, no, he looked like a desperate child.  

What had he gone through? 

What had his father neglected to tell him about his half brother? 

Before the boy could continue to try and escape via chomping on his hand Triton brings the small form up to his face, shoving him in to his mouth quickly once Perseus let go to get a breath. There was a surprised kick from Perseus, Triton not even bothering to give time to adjust before he swallowed thickly. Personally, he didn’t want to experience what the boy would do to escape this..not only that he was concerned about his teeth cutting the frankly delicate boy. Unconsciously he runs his tongue over his teeth, wincing at the sharp points that greeted him.  

He sighs as he feels the lump travel down his throat and soon a heavy weight spills into his stomach. He closes his eyes with a sense of nostalgia washing over him. How long had it been since he had such a small life tucked inside his being like this? The thrashing weight settled nearly instantly, as if a switch was flipped, Perseus stilling.  

The corners of his lips quirk up into a small smile, hesitantly resting a hand over his middle. There was no indication that Perseus was even tucked away into his stomach. Just smooth skin concealing his younger brother. He settled rather..nicely inside. “An absolute guppy, that’s what you are you little brat.” He murmurs, blinking when he feels the boy nuzzle into the stomach wall. Small hands pressing against the flesh as he tried to get settled. A bloom of fondness spreads throughout his chest at the motion. So small and yet... 

“This does not change a thing between us. Remember, that you are a bastard.” 

There was no answer, unless the little whine was one. A small chucckle bubbles out of him, trying not to move too much to avoid jostling the small occupant inside. It was almost concerning how quickly Perseus had settled once inside. He would need to figure out what exactly caused his younger brother to fly into such a state. 

He waves his hand, the Ichor that had spilled clearing from the water at the motion. He looks to his hand, the bite having healed already, as well as the slash the boy had managed to get in. A warrior for sure..how old was the boy again? He lightly rubs his middle, yet against surprised when the boys weight settled against where his hand rested.  

There was a lot he didn’t know about his brother...perhaps he should explore that.

[sergeantnarwhalwrites]

"Who's Greeter to you?"

Let's go thing I had an urge to write! Woo! This will probably make it into the rewrite. I have made some progress in the planning thank you @vacantgodling! My ass was stuck. Now I just gotta figure out a few important worldbuilding things which I'll probably do as I start writing and I'll be sure to actually write them in a place I won't lose them. Have Tharion questioning Cosma and Cosma being Cosma.

Tag list: @outpost51 @nanashi23 @winterandwords @jezifster @kk7-rbs @aether-wasteland-s @dumbthunder @manathen @the-void-writes @livums (Let me know if you want to be added or removed from the taglist!) 

Tharion didn't know how to feel. Working his hands with ease as he braided the two braids together, slowly annoyed by the feeling of his hair against his back.

Cosma towered over him. A massive red mountain and it was gonna crumble. Like the stacks of mud, not yet processed enough to be clay the children of his city liked to stab pudgy fingers into. Sliding and toppling into a heap. Tharion shoved her hard enough for her to misstep.

"You're obsessed," Tharion said.

Cosma smiled. Tharion noticed how tight-lipped it was. Her chapped lips bled a little at the action.

"What is Greeter to you?" Tharion asked, dragging a claw down her arm, unamused by how unbothered she seemed.

Cosma grabbed the offending hand.

"My squadmate, my friend. A fellow soldier."

"Your companion?"

Cosma shook her head heard enough to hear the air rush past. She didn't like the way he said that. Maybe it was just the word. Or maybe it was the way his tongue wrapped around the word, spitting it like his prayers that she was unfamiliar with.

With the word, she saw Greeter in her room. On her floor, too impatient to help prepare the bedroll. Wrappings undone, in a haphazard pile beneath her. Shirt gone. Drool dribbled down her chin as she parted her legs tauntingly. Invitingly. Breath faintly smelling of the medicated liquids Cosma used purely as a disinfectant. The smell wafted under her nose as she practically crawled to Greeter. Hungry. Insatiable.

Cosma's breath picked up, not yet fast enough to be panting. She let sweat roll down her face. Looking over Tharion as the word companion had damn there awoken something she refused to let a stranger see.

"Not companions? Too insignificant a word huh?" Tharion smiled now, seeing the hallway's artificial light illuminating the newly forming sheen.

Cosma rested her face in her hands, grasping uselessly at the skin of her face. Her fingers sliding over the greasy surface.

"You're stuck in her like a damn barbed bullet." Tharion's claws clacked against the wall.

He almost couldn't believe it. All the massacre this woman had caused. Was capable of. And she's fumbling over a woman. Two brutes in love, Tharion thought. So it was no surprise, at least not to him when he asked you're obsessed.

Cosma could barely lift her hands away from her face to answer. She took a deep breath, breathing in the smell of the same disinfectant Greeter drank. Did he really deserve one? Did she even have an answer?

She smiled behind her hands. Dropping them as she thought of an answer. Which meant thinking of Greeter. Which also meant imagining every drag of Greeter's canines on her skin, rough hands forcing her to pay attention usually with a forceful yank, newly forged swords lodged concerningly deep into the safety wear. The words she spoke in low grunts no one but Cosma could hear. The threats spat forced Cosma to improve for the both of them. They both would do anything to survive for one another, Cosma knew it.

Unbothered by the flickering lights above them she answered, "Who wouldn't be?"

Tharion could only laugh, "Useless."

Cosma shrugged. Though the suddenness of the accusation admittedly did sting. Her shoulders sank down a little lower than usual. That was a comment that never really stopped hurting. No matter the foreigner's mouth it flew from.

"And you're the loser stuck helping," Cosma scratched at the shaven parts of her head, careful not to trace over the pigmented swirls, "I'll meet you and Arc in the beast containment. I need a moment."

[alyssaswrld999]

Meeting The Man/Negan Smith

(Season 7 Era) Y/n was apart of the Alexandria Group and was at the line up. Glenn was Y/n's brother. Negan takes Y/n and Daryl back with him to the Sanctuary. Then Y/n gets to talk to Negan in private.

Negan x Reader

(Comment if you want this to be a series)

Y/n pov:

It all happened so fast.... We were all just trying to get Maggie to safety. It was dark and cold outside. I was helping Rick lead everyone in the dark. The Saviors were blocking roads to Hilltop so we couldn't get there.

I just wished things would've ended differently...

I feel numb inside and I don't know what to do. There's nothing I can do at this moment. Me and Daryl are right now in the back of a van. We are getting taken to The Sanctuary. We're the man that killed my brother lives.

*Yesterday*

I'm on my knees looking around panicking. The person beside me is Eugene. All I see is a large group of Saviors and the RV. Then a tall man with a beard and mustache said "Let's meet the man". When I heard those words It felt like I couldn't breathe.

Seconds later the RV door opens. I look to see what was gonna come out of that damn RV. I didn't know what to expect at this moment. "Pissing our pants yet cause I have a feeling we're getting close" A male voice said.

Then suddenly I see a man that was very tall and he had a leather jacket with a red scarf fabric around his neck, black jeans, and black combat boots. I also noticed he had a baseball bat with barbed wire around it.

My ears started ringing so it was hard to hear what he was saying to Rick. All I heard was that his name was Negan and he didn't like how we killed his people.

Next thing I know he is walking around trying to decide which one of us he's gonna kill. I'm looking around seeing the rest of my group having fear in there eyes. Suddenly I hear "And you are.... It... anybody moves anybody says anything cut the other boys eye out and feed it to his father then we will start....." Negan says.

I look up and see who he was standing in front of and it was Abraham. He was a really good friend to me and he always was funny. I started crying and then my stomach started hurting.

"You can breathe.. you can blink.... you can cry... hell yall are all gonna be doing that" Negan says raising his bat. When those last words slip off his tongue the bat swings down. He was beating Abraham to death and I can't stop it.

"No no no no" I mumbled. I wanted to crawl over and beg Negan to stop. I wanted this nightmare to end. "Oh look at that taking it like a champ" Negan said. Abraham sits back up on his knees and looks up at Negan. The blood was coming down his face. "Suck.. My..Nuts" Abraham said.

The bat swings back down again and I fall forward crying. I couldn't take this.... I don't want anyone to get hurt.... I don't want Glenn hurt.... no one deserves this....

I can hear Negan beating Abraham's head in over and over. The sound was ringing over and over in my ears. I didn't know what to do to make him stop. Negan didn't want to stop... he thought it was a game it seems...

Negan finally stops and I sit back up. I looked and seen Negans bat was all bloody. "Did you hear that he said suck my nuts" Negan said laughing. Then Negan started beating Abraham's head again like it wasn't enough.

It all was flashing before our eyes and I wanted to do something....

Then when Negan finally stops this time he acted like he was happy. "Oh my goodness look at this" Negan said shoving his bat around in our faces. Bragging how he killed our friend in front of us.

Then finally Daryl had enough and he ends up punching Negan in the face. A savior ends up putting him down and I start begging them to please not kill him. After Negans little outburst of anger, Negan looks over at me and asks me for my name. "It's Y/n" I said looking up into Negans eyes.

Negan smiles and starts completing me on how I begged to save Daryls life. Negan said it was real brave of me to do that. To prove how much I care about my people....

He walks back to the middle closer to where Glenn was and he turned to our direction. "I need you to know me" Negan says. Then it goes quiet for a second. "So... back to it" Negan said. He quickly turns around and starts hitting Glenn.....

He started killing my brother.... my bestfriend.... my family....

I started crying really bad harder than I have ever cried in my life. All I can see is everyone either looking at Glenn or looking at me. "No" Maggie said. I couldn't help but cry even more at that.

"Please stop" I said crying. But all i could hear was the bat hitting my brothers skull over and over again. I hear Glenn trying to speak and what I saw was the worst thing I could see in my life.

Glenn's head was torn open and his eye was trying to pop out fully from his skull. "Buddy you still there. I just dont know it seems like your trying to speak. But you just took a hell of a hit. I just popped your skull so hard your eyeball just popped out. And it as gross as shit." Negan said. "M-Maggie I-I'll find you.." Glenn said.

My brother was dying in front of me and I couldn't stop it...

I was frozen and it was painful...

"Aww aww hell I can see this is hard on you guys I am sorry I truly am but I did say it... NO ACCEPTIONS" Negan said. He turns back around and starts beating my brother more and more till finally he wasn't moving.... he was gone.

I just let the tears fall and I was crying and you could hear me sobbing. I felt eyes on me but I couldn't care at this moment. I was in pain true pain and I would never be able to see my brother ever again.

*Next Day Moments before being taken*

I was lying there on the ground and I was trying to catch my breath still. I finally did and sat back up. I quit crying a while ago. All I could feel at this moment was anger. I wanted to make Negan feel the pain I felt.

I was looking at the ground and the next thing I see is those damn black combat boots in front of me. I look up and seen Rick and everyone was looking at me. Then the next thing I see is Negan crouched down to my vision.

Negan was looking at me like he was observing. "Y/n right" Negan said. I looked at him in his eyes and I just seen red. "I'm sorry that you are upset but you know that this was for your own good right" Negan said.

I smiled at him because I thought he was pretty fucking stupid at this moment. "Right.. like what you do is for the great or good" I said. He paused and just kept looking at me. I looked over at my people and seem them all looking at me still shocked on what I was saying.

I turn my head back to Negan and quit smiling. "You can kill me... you can hit me.... you can do whatever.. but miss me with the bullshit of you being the good guy" I said. Then I quit talking to him and he smiled. He got up and walked away from me.

Then Negan starts talking bullshit on how he expects us to get it now hoping we understand. "Dwight load him up" Negan said pointing to Daryl. Then Dwight starts grabbing Daryl and forcing him into the van. I was getting more angry by the second.

When they get Daryl in the van Negan turns to me. "Dwight load her up to" Negan said pointing at me. "What" I mumbled. Everyone now was looking at me and didn't want me to go. Dwight walks over and starts grabbing me. I start trying to get away and he held on tighter. "Let me go... Let me go" I shouted.

"Noooo" Maggie was saying. I finally get pushed into the van and I turn to try and fight Dwight but Dwight had already figured I would try. He had Daryls crossbow pointed at me. Daryl put a hand on my shoulder and pulled me back a bit.

Then Dwight closed the doors to the van and all I could do now was sit. "Them two got guts... not a little bitch like someone I know I like them. There both mine now" Negan said. After I heard him say that I started cutting him out for right now.

I look up and seen Daryl looking at me. I already knew how he was feeling. Thinking it's his fault when it isn't. "Don't blame yourself" I said to Daryl. Daryls eyes widened when I said that. He nodded at me like he understood what I meant.

*Present to where they get to the Sanctuary*

Me and Daryl got forced to go back with the Saviors to the Sanctuary to stay with Negan. Finally As we get there Negan had us taken to separate cells. Mine wasn't really a cell though it was a bedroom kind of apartment room.

As I enter the room I turn around and looked at Dwight. "Whats all this" I asked him pointing at the room I was in. "Negan wants you to get comfortable" Dwight said.

I was confused on what he meant by that. "Whats that supposed to mean" I asked. "It means your not leaving anytime soon" Dwight said closing the door. I ran towards the door and it was locked.

Great this is just great.....

I look around to see what I can do in the mean time while I'm waiting. I pulled a Blanket off the bed and went to the couch to take a nap. Moments later I'm woken up by the sound of banging.

"Negan needs you to see him" Dwight shouted. I get up as soon as the door opened. Dwight tells me to come with him so he can take me to Negan.

Dwight makes me open the office door and pushed me inside so I can meet with Negan. I turn around to punch Dwight but the door was already closed. I sighed and turned around to see Negan sitting in a office chair at the end of a long business looking table.

"Well hello there" Negan said smiling. I didn't say anything to him and he obviously got annoyed. "Look darling you have to got to respect me." Negan said. "Yeah that's funny why should I respect you" I snapped back.

Negan slammed the table and it shocked me. "You will because I have given you a room to rest and food so you don't die" Negan shouted. Negan stood up and was walking towards me slowly. "You will respect me and you are gonna work for me" Negan said.

I turned my head to the side and was curious on what he was taking about. "You are going to be one of my soldiers... you are also coming with me to Alexandria to take my half of the deal that Alexandria owes me" Negan demanded.

Then Dwight comes back in the room and takes me back to my cell.

[strawberriesinmoominvalley]

everyone seems so excited on my post about my stranger things apocalypse au, which is incredibly sweet and kind of all of you! anyway, here’s a snippet as a treat :)

The house was dark as Nancy pulled into the driveway, which wasn’t something that frightened her. The power was temperamental at best now, with all the spores floating in from the gates that cut the town into sections. Mike shoved past her to the door, grabbing the key from under the mat and turning the lock.

“Mom?” he called into the dark house, Nancy pulling the door behind them. “Mom, we’re back from visiting Max!”

There was silence, and Mike turned and gave her a wide-eyed stare. It was a scared stare, the same way he’d looked as a kid, when the only thing to fear was monsters under the beds and if their father would yell again. He didn’t care enough to yell most of the time. When they were little, Mike would sneak into Nancy’s room after their Dad had yelled and burrow into bed together. She couldn’t remember when they’d stopped.

Nancy pulled the handgun out from her bag, holding it loosely in her hands. Her and Mike crept into the kitchen, scanning the room. They only seemed to understand each other when they were fighting. It stung more than it should.

“There’s a note,” Mike murmured softly, before a choked up noise caught in his throat. Nancy rushed, reading the note over his shoulder.

We had to go. Your father was going anyway, and it’s better for Holly. He wouldn’t wait for you. I’m sorry. I love you - Mom x

Nancy shook, taking a deep breath. “Fuck.”

“What do we do?” Nancy could see his eyes sparkle with unshed tears in the dim light. It was unrecognisable, and she was grateful Mike was crying for once. It was a fucked up thought that she pushed away.

“I’m- I’m going to call Jonathan.” Nancy stepped away to the phone, praying the phone lines hadn’t gone down. It was inevitable, at some point.

“But you broke up?” Mike frowned at her. “Why would you call him?”

“He’s my best friend,” Nancy replied, before the call went through. “Jon, hi!”

“Nancy?” Jonathan’s voice was staticky through the line. “Is everything okay?”

She bit her lip, refusing to let her tears spill over just yet. “My parents and Holly left. Without Mike and I.”

“Shit. I’m sorry. Come over. I’ll tell Mom.” He said it simply, like it was the obvious answer to their situation. She could picture his facial expression clearly, a thought that made her laugh wetly. “Grab some clothes for a few days, okay?”

“Are you sure?”

“Nance. I’m sure.” She heard Jonathan talking to someone else distantly. “Mom’s threatening to come and get you, otherwise.”

Nancy laughed, properly this time. “We’ll be over soon.”

Mike raised his eyebrows at her. “We’re going to the Byers?”

“Pack some clothes.” Nancy paused for a second taking a shaky breath. “I’m going to kill him. If they ever come back.”

There was a hysterical note to Mike’s voice as he stared at her. “I- fuck. I just- well, I didn’t think Mom would leave us, you know?”

“Yeah,” Nancy breathed, biting her lip. “We’ve gotta stick together now. We’re the only family left.”

Mike nodded, rubbing his eyes. “It's not fair. And- you know, sometimes I think we’d be better siblings if we- if Dad hadn’t been-”

“It’s my fault, too.” Nancy let her tears start to fall, wincing at the ugly snorting noise she made when she breathed. “I should have been better - I mean, after Barb-”

“No.” Mike rubbed at his face again, sleeves coming away wet. “No, it was my fault too, I-”

Nancy pulled him tightly against him as they cascaded into tears. She hadn’t hugged him in years, not probably, a fact that made her sob harder. “We’re gonna do better.”

“Yeah. We’ll do better.” Mike laughed hysterically, a sob breaking the sound and causing him to cough. “I broke up with El, you know. Well, she broke up with me. And- and I’m upset? But I’m also relieved?”

“So we’re both going to stay with our exes,” Nancy commented, feeling herself giggle. “What the fuck is going wrong?”

“She’s my best friend too.” Mike pulled out of the hug, giving her a weird look. “Did Mom ever hug you?”

“I mean, sometimes. Not as much as Joyce hugs her kids.” Nancy turned away, walking up the stairs. “I don’t think she was a bad mom.”

“I don’t think she was. I don’t know.” Mike followed her into her room, watching as she shoved clothes into a backpack with little care. “I wish she’d been more like Joyce.”

“Yeah.” Nancy zipped up her bag. They’d be back in a few days to get more things, there wasn’t any point overpacking. “Me too.”

They switched rooms and Mike shoved things into his bag haphazardly, and before Nancy could process what was happening she was turning the key in her car, catching Mike’s eyes.

“Are you ready?”

“Don’t have much choice, do we?” Mike reached over to the dashboard, switching out the tape to the cassette with everyone’s favourite songs on. Nancy sighed slightly as the familiar sound of Kate Bush played. “You know, after all the fucked up shit we’ve been through recently, this- this feels like the worst. Which, I mean, Max is in a coma, and Eddie’s still like, bleeding through bandages, but-”

“I get it.” Nancy stared at the garage door through the windscreen. “Injuries are normal. They’re typical Upside Down side effects, even if they’re worse than usual. This isn’t meant to happen.”

Mike didn’t reply to that, simply turning up the music. Nancy put the car into reverse, backing out of the drive and down the road.

It was only when they pulled up by the cabin that Mike spoke. “Why aren’t you angry?”

Nancy paused, considering the question. “I am. I’m so angry.” She glanced at him, giving a sad smile. “I’m just so tired, Mike.”

[twewycrim3s]

Absolutely Terra, also just lay down all the info you can give me

Well here's a copy paste of the story I wrote up for it

The battle of 7 Lights and 13 Darknesses approaches. The battle to keep Kingdom Hearts safe and sound or overcome by darkness. The journey at the current time seems to flow with the path of Light. However, one hero of Light decided to risk their lives for another's. This light being Sora. All to protect Kairi from being kidnapped instead, the boy still risking his all to keep his friends safe.

Sora didn't want time to repeat. He didn't want his friends to die, not again. So if he just altered everything, instead of letting things play the same. Then just maybe the fates will truly alter, even though he knows of his own consequence. He'd never be able to speak about what he saw in passing before this action. So he shoved Kairi before she could be grabbed in that barbed cage and disappeared himself.

The sacrifice gave Xehanort another guardian to tinker with, similar to Ventus. The trial to see if the boy could form the X-blade with his heart. However, that trial proved nothing to Xehanort. So once again he took the choice to force the pure dark and light from none other than Sora.

Yet with much regret Sora's heart didn't belong to only him at the time. Causing his heart to fracture while remaining in his body. The end result left Sora in a strange mental state and left a nasty mark on his chest.

These trials went on for 2 years before he found his escape, the one day his restraints were loose he took advantage of it. He didn't even care he had no top on and his scar showed. He ran no destination in mind, only ran to where he thought the exit was and hoped his friends would feel his calling heart. When he felt outside's warmth on his exposed torso, even if night he felt such relief. Quickly making his way further away from where he was held captive.

He kept running and running til his body collapsed from exhaustion. Then weakly moved to hide in a small cave like structure and only sit and wait. Things will be ok could hear water and saw bushes with fruit as he got here. Just wait…

After a few days of being a free man, dazed and confused he heard the sound of Riku and Kairi. Their voices echoing in his ears as he fought to wake up and go to them. They grew closer and closer…then soon he heard their startled sounds, unable to see their faces as he turned to look at them, vision blurry. He couldn't talk to them, but he wished to. Yet, truly before he even could say anything he was wrapped in a blanket and scooped up into Riku's arms. Truly rescued and back home once and for all. Back with his friends, but due to his condition begged to not be near his mom. Not yet. And Riku decided to let him stay at his place.

The guardian of light wasn't the same bubbly happy go lucky self. He seemed more drained and grumpy. His keyblade was broken and worn down. It seemed his very self was broken and in need of major repair. Is it truly possible to repair something so fractured?

Roxas and Ventus went back to where they needed to go, but who would help patch Sora? Only time will tell.

Extra Info:

Sora is too weak to summon his keyblade back if he loses it, he has massive nightmares and is being tracked by Xehanort while he sleeps if too stressed. This server is Dark theme filled due to Sora's damaged heart do keep that in mind. There is SoRiku so if against the ship it is not advised either. In KH3 Sora spoke to a chirithy and got sent back in time to try and fix what he lost. however, in this AU it uses the same concept but makes it worse. He begs to go back in time to save where it truly all seemed to be an issue. Be able to truly intervene and not be a figment ghost. So the CHirithy agrees, but gives Sora a major consequence if he tells anybody what he's done. Else SPOILER FOR SERVER CANT SAY!! So he keeps a major secret with him while he decides to protect Kairi from being snagged by Xemnas. For himself to be snagged himself and held captive for 2 years before he was found via his dreams with Riku.

[ssolessurvivor]

[SACRIFICE]: the sender cups the receiver's face tenderly to distract them, right before shoving them out of the way (to safety) and facing an attack alone in order to buy the receiver enough time to escape.

@paramounticebound wanted tears (so this didn't end in escape but I hope you don't mind it was all I could see <3) (xx)

Starfleet had finally caught up to them it seemed, and Logan was rushing along to get his gun when Khan intercepted him. He could tell something was going on in that head of his, but he couldn't say anything, not when the other held his face so tenderly, so gently. Things like this don't happen often, but Logan's knees go a little weak as he leans into one of those hands, allowing the serenity to still his nerves. A few things happened in quick succession though, and Logan hadn't really seen them coming, nor had he seen the barbs wrapping around his heart to make him bleed.

Just as the blonde leaned in for a tentative kiss, he was shoved away before he could even receive what he wanted. And in doing so, his clavicle was on fire when his back landed against the wall of the med bay cell, and the door closed. Logan watched in shock as Khan turned and ran, and the blonde's body acted on its own. The moisture sprang unbidden to his eyes as he smashed his hands against the glass, hollering for Khan, anyone, to let him out and help.

"Come back, please..." His voice is going quiet and hoarse, his legs giving out as his body is falling into the grip of trauma. "I love you..." It's happening again, it's all happening again. His spiral begins as he ends up sliding down to his knees, his back against the wall and curling in on himself. Flashes of red plague him: blood spattered glass, the floors running red in the grooves, the lights flashing with the emergency power grids..."I can't protect you."

Not again...please not again.

He sees a juxtaposition of images in his head as tears stream down his cheeks and be begins almost hyperventilating. Feng's body blinks into Khan's, and...he's gone. Blood shines on Logan's hands, holding the man in his lap. He can hear their voices chiding him, being so cruel like a physical pain all over his body. Hands clasp over his ears, as if he can block them out.

"Let me out." It's nowhere near the holler he had before, but a broken trembling thing spilling out of his lips, his forehead leans against it briefly, to feel the cold. It does nothing to ease the boil in his blood, the sweat beading on his neck. Eventually, his body would cause him so much strife that he'd pass out, the last attempt his mind can give at shelter.

[monterraverde]

VS. Red at the Ossuary

This place was full of absolutely intoxicated people battling their souls out in the most aggressive display of power she’d ever seen. Brought here by a Duskull, she wasn’t expecting a battle that felt like her life was on the line. Several of the ones shes had this day made her more bored then anything, smaller time trainers that she battled specifically to see who bought who a drink.

They’re Kantonian trainers, so they weren’t the WORST trainers she’s ever faced, but they had her craving more- and thats when Red finally tapped her on the shoulder and drew her back to the stadium.

Pleasantly buzzed, she eagerly accepted, and the next thing she knew, sparks were flying in a way that made her heart race like never before.

Gremlins out first, time to go.

She’s locked in a strategy with her team by now, Gremlins not meant to exist on the battlefield for very long, he’s there to set up a Tailwind, maybe inflict some poison, and then get out. Red leads with Pikachu, though, and Gremlin CACKLES as the mouse calls the rain and cracks the sky, its like a miniature hurricane in the Ossuary now, and the Gliscor takes full advantage of his ability to glide and fly through thunderstorms with nary a care in the world. He sees Pikachu come flying to throw him into submission, and instead grabs the mouse and rolls backwards with the momentum, dropping him with a hard toss to the ground, chasing him down and striking him with his tail several times before sinking his fangs into the Pikachus neck, and now that he’s grounded, striking with a powerful Earthquake while he’s got him pinned. Its quick work, and then they’re called back.

One down.

Next, Fafnír and Blastoise, a very clear disadvantage, but Fafnír is completely undaunted, feeling a strong connection with the ghostly terrain and roaring with a fierce and unusual look in his eye. Blastoise smashes his shell, and the two titans are now almost evenly matched in speed and strength, clashing with fang and claw before Fafnír tanks a Hydro pump, dropping rocks on Blastoise in a Rock Slide and causing him to flinch before rushing in to tackle the turtle to the ground with a high powered Crunch. It’s quick work, and now theres a Sandstorm and a Tailwind up, the tides are in their favor.

Two down.

Kamina and Charizard now, the little moles got a ton of speed behind him between the Tailwind and Sandstorm, but its not nearly enough for the tiny mole to take on the gargantuan dragon. He’s slapped, shoved and bathed in flame, dropping where he stood, the speed not even close enough to matter.

Adniels out next against Baba, Reds Venusaur, the usually gentle frog finding herself on the wrong end of Adniel in a delighted battle high frenzy. Her powders seem to do nothing while the winds heavily blowing. The dragon and his trainer are in almost perfect sync, their movements mirroring one another as they both roll to the side, and Rika calls for Iron head, Adniel barrleing right into Baba in a strong headbutt to destabilize her before she’s Dragon Clawed in a powerful uppercut and sent toppling. The Garchomp lets out a roar of triumph- He’d finally gotten a win against this team, and he couldn’t be more excited.

Three down-

She’s never felt this in sync with her team before.

The Don hits the field in a flurry of scarlet lightning, Roadblock his opponent, and neither trainer wastes any time, Rika practically roaring and calling for Close combat. The Snorlax puts up an incredible resilience as he grabs Dons tusks, but the primal energy pumping through Dons veins manages to let him overpower the giant, almost burying him in a Headlong Rush.

Four-

Thats a Win-

Bappy comes out against Lapras regardless- They could stop now and it would be fine, but one last battle- and The Clodsire gets a lucky Toxic off as Lapras lashes out with an Ice beam, and it HURTS, but he shrugs it off, protecting another Ice beam before digging his barbs into Lapras’ skin and finishing the job.

The dust settles as the Clodsire stands victorious on the field, and Rika can be seen counting on her fingers over and over again in sheer disbelief.

5 to 1.

She beat him 5 to 1.

She clenches her fist, tears stinging the edge of her vision- Not out of sadness, but out of absolutely unbridled joy and pride. Her team did so incredibly well, and she genuinely couldn’t believe that just happened… She’s only brought back to reality when the match is finally called by the referee, and Red suddenly scoops her up in a tight hug, to which she laughs and wraps both arms around his head, pressing their foreheads together.

[You did it, that was incredible.]

“You did great too, thank you, I can’t believe that just happened…!!”

[pigpenscrolls]

Defective Merchandise ~2~

“Falkner?” I said quietly, creeping the front door to our house open. The TV was on, Pudge and Falkner were nowhere to be seen...until I stepped into the door and it closed behind me, revealing a hidden Falkner. He crossed his arms at me. “Speak.” I said nothing. “I’ve waited patiently for the last hour for you to tell me what’s going on. You said you would when you got back, and now you’re back. Talk. To. Me.”

Without being called on, Pudge released himself from his Pokeball. Other trainers might have reprimanded this by shoving them back in, but Falkner wasn’t that kind of trainer. Pudge flew over to me and I put my hands up as he went for my pocket and cooed softly. What a caring Pokemon. He might be able to tell Weedle is hurt beyond what regular battle does. Which puts the responsibility on me. I have to tell Falkner, or Weedle’s injury could cause it more problems. “I-- I don’t know how it happened…” I said. “What?” My brother asked, his stern look slightly turning to concerned. “Before you ask, I don’t know what I was thinking…” “Gretchen…” “But I can’t turn it away, not after seeing it…” “Seeing…” I pulled the Pokeball out of my pocket. Pudge flared his wings excitedly and started nudging it with his beak. “Where did you get that, Gretchen?” My brother asked me, very seriously. It sounded almost like he was shaking. “I c...caught...it-bought it, actually.” I looked up at him. “It’s a slightly complicated story.” There was a pause, a long one. “You...bought it? Gretchen, from who?!” “From the Pokemart! I bought a Pokeball with the money you gave me and it already had a Pokemon in it! If you don’t believe me you can ask the sales clerk.” “You bought a Pokeball, from the Pokemart. And somehow it already had a pokemon in it?” “Yes.” “Gretchen, this is amazing news!” He suddenly yelled. Pudge trilled in confused excitement. “What?” I blinked, standing a little more upright. “Arceus, Wretch! I thought you were trying to tell me you joined Team Rocket!” I stuttered no words in particular. “Well let’s see it! What did you c-I mean what did you find?” “Well that’s the thing…” I said. “It’s hurt, for real. I don’t think a regular heal-up is going to fix this one.” I released Weedle from it’s capsule and landed it softly cuddled in my arms. It made a weak noise upon fully materializing. It curled up into the crook of my arm. “Oh, ouch,” Falkner said. “Poor thing.” Pudge trilled sadly. “We need to get it to a center immediately. The poison is leaking out of it’s broken barb, he probably feels super defenseless and scared right now. Put it back in it’s ball, it’ll be safer that way.” I did what he said and followed him out the door, paying no mind to my still aching legs that would no doubt ache for days. “Pudge,” Falkner said. “Fly us there.” ~~ You’d be able to tell by the look on the nurse’s face she was a little apprehensive on diagnosing a Weedle with anything more than fatigue. As stated, a lot of little kids come through here with their rats and their bugs as a means to get out of taking care of their Pokemon themselves. The Weedle care unit is a little over-saturated. Luckily, Falkner was with me, and was able to vouch for my story. Within the hour Weedle was fitted with a custom-molded prosthetic horn. “As Weedle evolves, it’ll fall off naturally. You should hold off battling for now to let it settle in, however.” Falkner thanked her profusely, and nudged me in the side with his elbow to do the same. Weedle in arms, I bowed, embarrassed and internally cringing, I still mustered out a “thank you very much.” Weedle bowed too, though I doubt it even really knew what for. “Oh, one thing I think you might want to know,” Nurse Joy said with a kind smile before we turned to leave. “Weedle is a girl.” ~~ “Go, Lilly! …Go, Sadie! …Go, Bailey! …Go… bug…” “What are you doing?” Falkner walked into my room where I was standing in front of Weedle trying to sic it on a stuffed Teddiursa I pulled from my closet. “Trying to get it to do anything but it just keeps staring at me. It doesn’t respond to anything I call it.” “Try just Weedle, for now then, Gretchen.” “Then Weedle,” I shouted pointing back at the stuffed Teddiursa, “Get it!” “‘Get it’ isn’t a command, Gretch. You need to teach Weedle what you mean.” “What does a Weedle do?” “Poison sting, Gretch. It’s a baby poison type.” Falkner said flatly. He put his head in his hands, sighed, and went to walk out. “I’ll be right back.” This is a mess, I thought, beginning to get stressed out. “Okay, Weedle,” I said crouching down between Weedle and the Teddiursa. “Poison sting!” It made a noise and stared at me. I picked it up and turned it to face the target. “Poison,” I said, tapping Weedle’s prosthetic barb, “Sting.” I pointed at the Teddiursa. “Get it? Sting it, sting the target.” I picked Weedle up and held it close to the stuffed animal. “Poison sting!” Weedle apprehensively tipped its barb towards the Teddiursa. It lightly jostled as Weedle gently launched a poison jab at it. “Yes, Weedle! That’s exactly it!” I set Weedle down and stood up excitedly. “Poison sting!” Another jab, this one stronger, went into the stuffed Teddiursa this time, leaving a small hole. “Again, Weedle! Poison sting!” Weedle let out a cry and another jab, sending the Teddiursa back against the wall where it slumped down. In all my excitement I didn’t notice Falkner standing behind me. I made a guttural noise and jumped, which caused Weedle to jump into a defensive position. “Looks like you two are already syncing wavelengths,” Falkner said, with an arm full of books of varying thicknesses. “What are those?” I asked, the spike in my adrenaline calming down. “These, Wretch, are books,” he replied in a tone that suggested I had never read one before, dropping them into my arms. “A book on caterpillar pokemon, an in-depth guide to poison types, a bug pokemon field guide, and emergency first aid. Poison types are, well, still poisonous, Gretch. “Also,” he said, pulling a brochure out of his jacket pocket, setting it face up on the pile of books in my arms. The cover pictured the front of the Pokemon Academy. “Sch...school?! I can’t go back to school, Falkner, I’m in my twenties!” “You will if you want to train Pokemon,” he said seriously, but with a short smile. All I could do was stare at him. I never said I wanted to train pokemon, just raise Weedle. I turned to where she was still standing on the floor and she tilted her head at me. “Just give the books a read, Gretch, and who knows? I think Weedle would like that, too.” And with that, he walked out. I slouched, turning back to Weedle. “Well,” I said, not really expecting it to understand me. “I suppose it’s time to give you a break, anyway.”      

[utahbastards]

𝒊’𝒎 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒈𝒐𝒏𝒏𝒂 𝒂𝒔𝒌 𝒊𝒇 ‘𝒚𝒐𝒖’𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒌𝒂𝒚’ 𝒄𝒂𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕’𝒔 𝒇𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒊𝒏’ 𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒐𝒚𝒊𝒏𝒈. 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒂 𝒈𝒆𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒉𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒅𝒐 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈?

Maya pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes so hard it began to hurt as if it were somehow going to shove the tears back in as she sniffled irritably. The counselor had talked to her about this, the rages, and how they racked through her body. The stupid counting she was supposed to do to alleviate it when she was seeing red. It was hard for her to control at the best of times, let alone months pregnant living in a fucking nightmare twenty-four-seven. Holding it in was causing tears to pour from her eyes as her knees trembled with the kinetic energy of wanting to strangle the weasel with everything inside of her. Her fingers flexed in and out at the thought, feeling utterly declawed. Maya let out something between a cough and a sob, the wasps in her brain driving her teeth to clatter as she tried to breathe her way through it.

She'd thought he'd been hazing, an asshole act but not entirely serious when he'd spat and told her to wipe it up. At first, even he pretended it was all it was, laughing when she refused. Throwing a couple more barbs to test the water while Maya squinted at him doubtfully. It was all so fast, she didn't even remember which remark had set him off until he was in her face. She doubted he'd be so quick to do that with Liam present, Jax... who knew. She didn't cringe, instead her eyes lit up with wildfire, pupils narrowing in as she met his eyes. His breath stank when he got in her face and it made her lips quirk into a bitter smile that only stoked him further. "Do you think you have a leg to stand on here? What-why? Because you're the only girl out of a thousand Jax fucked that was stupid enough to do it without condom? You are here, because against all the better judgment, Jax is letting you. Do you know who's letting Jax?" He'd stood there, legitimately waiting for her to answer. Daring her to speak out of turn and it was killing her not to. She loved pushing buttons on volatile men, it was her favourite game even if it beat her bloody watching the stupid look take over their face as the sputter too mad to make sense. But this wasn't her step-father. Maya learned his limits, it's why she'd danced around them. Amos would belt her until she couldn't stand, but he couldn't take it further. She knew Beckett's limits too, little speckles of them were still on corners of the shower cubicles long after they'd moved their coach. "You." She finally managed through her tight-lipped scowl. "Very good. Me. Give me a fucking reason to throw you to the wolves. I. Dare. You. Just one. Because I promise you, your boyfriend isn't doing shit about it." She took steady exhales through her nose, trying to remain in control. "So do I have a reason or are you going to be a good girl?" He chucked her lightly under the chin and the only thing that stopped her from sinking her teeth into his finger until she hit bone was the bump between them. She'd been mortified, standing in front of those men while they averted their eyes awkwardly. The embarrassment only made her stomach twist tighter. Liam was right, they couldn't stay here.

Jax stood in the doorway for a long minute before she noticed him, the corners of his lips pinched downwards as their eyes met for an instant before her face reeled away. She pawed her cheeks furiously, wiping her face into the overly long sweater sleeves before awkwardly turning her face to the wall like it could fool him. "Killian told me-"

"Killian's a fucking loud mouth," She grunted, pulling her knees up to her chin as he took a cautious seat beside her. They sat like that for a long moment, letting the silence hang between them.

"I heard it wasn't great." He offered quietly. Maya shrugged indignantly, continuing to stare at the wall. He let out a little sigh, like he'd been expecting more to be said.

"𝒊’𝒎 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒈𝒐𝒏𝒏𝒂 𝒂𝒔𝒌 𝒊𝒇 ‘𝒚𝒐𝒖’𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒌𝒂𝒚’ 𝒄𝒂𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕’𝒔 𝒇𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒊𝒏’ 𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒐𝒚𝒊𝒏𝒈. 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒂 𝒈𝒆𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒉𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒅𝒐 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈?"

Her face tilted towards him a fraction, a quizzical look in her side-eye. A sarcastic answer barged its way to the front of her mouth, but she bit it back. If she stomped on his peace offer, she knew Jax would pull it back in an instant. Right now, her corner was looking too bare to swat away a helping hand for a moment of gratification. "You know, the last time you said something like that to me, we got into this whole mess."

"Well, we can't do that twice right now so I think we're okay." She exhaled with a puff of amusement, somehow managing to wear a smile and a frown all at once.