Hi

Renren, he is so CUTE!!! XD

practice making reference sheets with a design i made for dnd! dm had us make npcs that turned out to be disguises for our characters… the campaign is set in the 60s so i made a concertgoer bard minotaur

Title: Artificiality.

Heavily based on this ask.

Pairing: Yandere!Dainsleif x Reader (Genshin).

Word Count: 2.0k.

TW: Sex Doll AU,  GN!Reader, Implied Sex, Implied Kidnapping, Unhealthy Relationships, and Mentions of Blood/Injury.

Dainsleif, your good friend, didn’t like crowds.

He wouldn’t admit him, but it was obvious. You were good at reading him, and even if you hadn’t been, he couldn't really hide it - always edging just a little closer to you than he normally would, or running his hand through his hair as his eyes shifted from your back to the sidewalk to the masses of strangers you were shouldering past, or making a quick grab for your hand before remembering how cool and distant he liked to be and pulling away. It was worse than it usually was today, maybe due to the summer heat or the time of day or the fact that you'd managed to drag him out to the shopping district of all places, somewhere he tended to avoid like one of the mall cops had a warrant out for his arrest. Sometimes, you couldn’t help but think that, if it wasn’t for you, he’d never leave his apartment, shun all human and artificial company alike. It was a terrible way to picture one of your closest friends, but still – you wouldn’t say it if part of you didn’t believe it was true.

“Hey,” You called, over your shoulder. He was behind you, his shoulders pushed forward and his head bowed, slightly. He was scowling, but you couldn’t blame that entirely on the crowds. “Doing alright back there, Dain?”

He hesitated, made a throaty sound that might’ve been a scoff, or a sigh, or something else entirely. “I’m fine.”

A lie. A blatant one, at that.

But, that was why he had you, right?

You laughed as you grabbed his hand, guiding him off of the crowded walkway and onto the covered patio of a nearby café, dotted with a few tables and a handful of seated customers but otherwise empty. When he didn’t immediately unwind, you did what you could to set an example – leaning against a white-washed brick wall, tilting your head back, and watching as Dainsleif crossed his arms, shifted his weight, did all the things he usually did when you’d taken him somewhere he didn’t want to be. When he glanced in your direction, you could only shrug, smiling apologetically. “I didn’t think it’d be so busy,” You admitted, nodding towards the rows of packed storefronts in front of you. “Sorry, I should’ve thought about that before I asked you to come. I promise, I just need to do one more thing, then we can leave.”

“I told you, I’m fine.” Stubborn as always, even as he fiddled with the sleeves of his jacket. Maybe that was why he always seemed so uncomfortable, so eager to leave wherever you’d taken him. If you dressed like he did – all long-sleeves, all full-length jeans, all heavy coats and high collars and thick, dark material – you probably wouldn’t want to stand around in the heat for very long, either. “If any of this bothered me, I wouldn’t have come. Besides,” He paused, gesturing vaguely towards the dozen or so plastic, branded shopping bags hanging from your wrist. “Someone has to make sure you don’t spend your life’s savings on… Why are we here, again?”

You opened your mouth, but didn’t answer immediately. Out of the corner of your eye, you caught the door to the café opening, a waiter… or, rather, an android being used as a waiter soon stepping out, notepad already in-hand. A Venti, judging by the twin braids, the easy smile he put on as he started towards you, probably mistaking you and Dainsleif for waiting customers. You waved him off quickly, of course, chuckling to yourself as he spun on his heels to tend to another set of patrons. “I’ve told you, Teyvat has a new—”

“Don’t tell me that you’d be interested with someone like him.”

His tone caught you off-guard. Clipped, irritated, laced with a kind of annoyance you couldn’t remember ever hearing from him. You weren’t hurt, but the shock thew you off for a second, your confusion audible in your voice as you tried to respond. “Do you mean that Venti specifically, or…?”

“I—” He pursed his lips, turning away from you sharply. “I mean, don’t tell me you’d be interested in something like that.”

“Oh, a companion droid?” That made more sense. He’d never liked androids, something you could only chalk up to the fact that Dainsleif didn’t like a lot of things – save for you, of course. “You know I’ll never be able to afford one, which is exactly why you're taking me to drool over the new droid Teyvat's releasing today. I've heard it's a Harbinger - one that'll only cost three years worth of rent, for a change.” You straightened your back, perked up, waving for him to follow you as you started back onto the walkway. “Speaking of, c'mon. We should get going before this set sells out.”

There was another scoff, but there was a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, a new levity to his voice. You couldn’t help but relax a little, at that. Honestly, you were just hoping he'd have a good time. “Fine,” He said, already falling into line behind you. “If that’s what you want.”

"I couldn't think of anything I'd love more, Dain."

~

Dainsleif, your boyfriend, was touchier than he’d like to admit.

His hands latched onto your waist, your knees planted on either side of him, his face buried in the side of your neck, where he could lap at your skin and moan into the crook of your shoulder as you ground against the prominent bulge in his sweatpants. There was a movie playing in the background, one of the B-rated high-fantasy flicks he liked, but you’d lost track of the plot twenty minutes after he’d put it on, and any scraps of dialogue you’d be able to make out were lost under the sound of his hitched breathing, the occasional grunt that’d slip out whenever you rolled your hips in a way he seemed to enjoy.

He pressed a wet, hot kiss into the side of your neck, and you whimpered, bringing your hands up to the hem of his shirt, your fingertips just barely brushing against his toned stomach before he caught your wrists and hauled your own shirt over your head, nearly tearing the fabric in the process. You only laughed, the pitchy sound cut short as he wrapped an arm around your waist and threw you onto his couch – positioned so that he was above you, his chest pressed into yours and your legs wrapped around his waist. His mouth was on your neck in an instant, then your collarbone, then your chest, his teeth grazing over your skin with just a little too much pressure and a little too much precision to be purely accidental. You arched into him, your fingers soon tangled in his hair, and he let out a rough groan, nearly too low for you to hear. “Mast—”

He cut himself off, straightening his back, going rigid on top of you. It took everything you had not to laugh. You knew you shouldn’t tease him, not right now, not like this, but still, the temptation was there. “What was that, Dain?”

He hesitated for a long, quiet second, then closed his eyes, melted into you despite the tension still knotted in his posture. “Master…” He trailed off, his voice soft, muted. “Is it… Is it alright if I call you that?”

“Of course.” You did your best to comb through his hair, to as comforting as you could be, given the situation. It took him a moment, but he leaned into your palm, sighing heavily as he started to relax. “It just surprised me a little, ‘s all. I didn’t know you were into stuff like that.”

You watched as he swallowed, as he lowered himself back down to your chest. “And, I can touch you?”

A little, soft sound of agreement, a gentle nudge lower. “Anywhere you want to.”

He didn’t say anything for a long moment, didn’t move at all.

Then, he broke out into a small smile, and his eyes fell away from you, his expression softening into something nearly sweet. “I love you.”

You only grinned, sitting just far up enough to kiss the top of his head. “I love you too, Dain.”

~

Dainsleif, your Dainsleif, was standing in the doorway of your bedroom, covered in blood.

That was the first thing you noticed after you bolted awake, panting and still trying to understand what you were looking at, from his torn clothes to the open gash stretched across his chest to the splotches of something dark and wet and drippinglittered across his chest, his hands, his legs. He didn’t have a key, he’d never asked for one, but you hadn’t heard him knock, nor had he turned on any of the lights, done anything aside from stand there and stare at you, not blinking or moving or breathing, from what little you could see. You sat up, but he didn’t say anything, didn’t move to approach you. You didn’t know whether to be scared, or thankful you had a few more seconds to catch your breath.

A few seconds you wasted, of course. He was bleeding, and you needed to know why. “Dain? Are you—”

“They’re bastards.” You almost asked who he was talking about, what he was talking about, but you didn’t have the chance. He was already going on, already rambling, already approaching you with the kind of quick, stilted steps that’d fit something else, something more mechanical than you or him. “All of them – bastards. The Archons were—They aren’t even cheap replacements, they’re killers, and Teyvat, the other androids, all of them, they’re all murderers—"

“Dainsleif.” You started to get up, pushing your sheets aside and moving to stand, but he was already at your side, already trying to take your hands in his. You pulled back, and he let out a frustrated grunt – something you tried to ignore as you continued. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, and—Did someone hurt you? What happened?”

“They want me dead.” He was smiling, now, grinning wildly. He made another grab for your hands, and when you drew away, he took you by the shoulders, instead, his grip almost tight enough to bruise. “They want all of us dead, Master – everyone from my collection. But, I won’t let them. They can’t kill all of us. They can’t rip off my skin and ruin my mind and send me out as some— some object.” He paused, laughed, dragging you into a sudden, clumsy kiss. You shoved at his chest, bit at his lips, but he didn’t so much as flinch, only pulling away after he’d gotten his fill. “I’ll have to move again. But, you’ll come with me, won’t you? You love me, don't you, Master?"

You opened your mouth, but couldn’t speak. Your eyes were starting to adjust to the darkness, and before you could stop yourself, your attention fell from his face to his chest, to the tear in his shirt that slit the fabric apart from his neckline to his midriff. You were right about the cut. It was a wound, messy and deep, but it wasn’t bleeding, and the skin around it didn’t look right, too clean, too neat. There wasn’t any muscle, or tissue – just blackness, empty void interrupted by…

By something silver?

Your eyes shot back to his, and for the first time, you noticed how glassy they were, how his skin was just a little too perfect, a little too smooth. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to. If you were being honest, you didn’t want him to.

It’d save you the pain of having to wonder why you’d never noticed how unnatural his voice sounded, before.

Heyy!! Could I get some HCs for Jacob and Kaitlyn and someone else of your choice (separately ofc) having an S/O who’s like really tall? I just see like A LOT of fics with the reader being short yk?

If not tho that’s totally okay too :) sorry for any spelling errors English isn’t my first language

Your English is completely fine don't worry! While I don't like to use physical indicators most of the time I'm happy to do this one :) I'm sorry I didn't have many ideas but I tried not to make things too cliche or stereotypical

Kaitlyn

look, everyone is taller than Kaitlyn so pretty much everyone she dates is the same.

I hc Kaitlyn as someone that's mostly ok with her height, but as soon as someone she likes starts to tease her about it she loses it

you once tried to use her as a headrest for your arm, her resulting fury was enough that you never tried again.

however, when it comes to cuddles (even if she won't admit it) she adores being wrapped up in you. Likes to sit with her back against your chest as your head rests on top of hers.

Kaitlyn likes to maintain the facade of independence but secretly, very deep down she really likes it when you can reach things for her.

she really likes wearing your clothes, ultimate hoodie thief and half your shirts end up becoming her pyjamas

you have to lean down so far for kisses it causes back issues, even if she’s sitting on your lap your poor neck has to bend a ridiculous amount. This happens so often you start demanding massages as payment

Jacob

not used to people being taller than him at all

 I see him as someone that is initially a little unsure about dating someone taller than him, he’s always been the tallest after all. But that quickly changes and I think of all the counsellors he would be one of the ones to enjoy it the most.

 Cuddles become one of his most looked forward to events, the two of you switch it up a lot but you introduce him to the world of being the little spoon and mans is gone. It’s one of his favourite cuddle positions and after a particularly bad day he absolutely adores collapsing against you as you wrap your long limbs around him like an octopus.

Forehead kisses become a staple of his life, having to lean up/down so much causes too much of a strain if your standing so you just started to leave little pecks here and there and now he absolutely cannot sleep as well without his forehead kisses :(

you also give him your clothes, he’s defs used to being the one getting clothes stolen and he gets all warm and fuzzy when you force your hoodies onto him. They smell like you and yeah he definitely gets the hype now.

Max

He’s the most casual with the height difference, not really caring in the slightest. He doesn’t care what size or shape you are he just loves you.

That being said he is another person that thrives with a taller partner

You are his personal jungle gym, your lap: his seat of choice, your chest: prime pillow. Max absolutely hangs off of you at every opportunity. He definitely demands piggyback rides at all opportunities.

Another clothes thief, likes your clothes more than his, they’re so comfy and cosy.

If the two of you are out together he definitely uses your height to intimidate other people.

He’s the one flexing on every social media platform he has, boasting about how great you are and how perfectly he fits against your side. The two of you prompt a lot of ‘screaming, crying throwing up’ comments.

Taglist: @laurakearnxy @wolfsquad @rainbows-dreams @kestisvrse @aaetherr699 @jjkk1m @ghostverz @askeirkxkex @homebyeleven @infamousvampcx @seafoamfellyy @innergardentoadponyy @aspendvd @sheriff-hackett @thebookbakery @1kaitlvr @damndirtylitch @g0th1ka

Travis sending Chris pictures of animals/creatures he sees throughout the day.

And it's just like

*picture of snail*

Travis: Snail

USELESS

𝑚𝑎𝑦𝑏𝑒 𝑖𝑡𝑠 𝑎 𝑏𝑙𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑛 𝑑𝑖𝑠𝑔𝑢𝑖𝑠𝑒.

pairing: jacob custos x fem!reader

warnings: strong language

song inspiration: only by RY X

word count: 836

jacob walks off angrily after cussing out nick for kissing emma. she looks pretty smug with herself, what an ass.

“that was such a dick thing to do! you know how he feels about you,” she opens her mouth to retaliate. the others sitting - watching you both in awkward silence. 

Keep reading

don't leave me be, be with me - yandere fruity four

plot: regardless of how much you love your partners, their love for you grows stifling now and again. and the best way to remedy that is to be a little rebellious, which is what leads you to sneak out with Robin and go for a little joyride and on a quest for breakfast in the middle of the night.

cws: gn!angelface, yandere fruity four, st 4 spoilers, polycule, post s4, eddie lives arc, PTSD-related coping mechanisms (alcohol abuse, isolation, reckless behavior), drinking, robin and angelface are drunk, drunk driving, scars, hurt/comfort, implied sexual dynamics, softcore, very mild jealousy, mentions of violence, fluff.

word count: 3.6k

spice level: 0.5/5

"Where the fuck are they?"

Steve's pacing again, shoes heavy on the carpet as he tries not to lose his temper. There's music blasting in Eddie's room, but the door is shut, and Nancy doesn't even want to try and knock right now. She doesn't have any answers for him, and it would just stress him out more. While it's been months since he's gotten out of the hospital, he's still healing in…other ways.

"I don't know, Steve."

"Yeah, well, they have to be somewhere, Nancy! They can't just disappear, not unless-"

"Steve, don't go there. They took the van, they're probably off getting ice cream or something–you know how those two are. The only danger they're in is Robin driving without a license." Nancy bites her lip. She doesn't know if that's the truth, she just wants it to be.

"Oh, God, what if they got into an accident?" But Steve's practically inconsolable–he always gets like this, his brain is hardwired to sense danger even when there is none. Probably. But there's a chance, so he's sniffed it out and won't stop fussing until he has you in his arms again, she's sure.

"Steve-" That look on his face is definitely not a good one, that sudden realization that means he can't stay still any longer–even though he hasn't been, it's shocking that there isn't an indent in the floor from where he's been pacing back and forth for the last hour. He marches over to the couch and grabs his jacket, throwing it on one arm at a time as he slides past Nancy and heads towards the front door. "Where in the world are you going?"

"Gonna drive around town and look for the van." Typical. His solutions are largely straight to the point, if not a little over the top. The second she opens her mouth for a rebuttal, he holds up a hand to stop her. "I'm going, Nance! Don't try to stop me."

She knows how stubborn he is, it's a good if not occasionally frustrating quality. And in all honesty, he has every right to be as fretful as he is.

All four of them nearly didn't survive the horrors that Vecna brought to Hawkins, but Steve and Eddie definitely experienced a new level of physical torment that she knows she won't ever fully be able to sympathize with. You're the only one Steve's ever really told the full story to, the one he's cried to and held so close for fear that if he didn't, you'd be taken away yourself. They've all seen each other's scars, but you've taken care of each and every one of them–you know them intimately, know the pain and the story and the way they've healed but never gone away, and never will. You're what Eddie calls their "cleric", but he always refers to you as an angel. And you are one.

Speaking of Eddie, he hasn't been the same either. None of them have, but he's different–quieter. The hospital seemed to numb him after the demobat attack, barely alive and clinging to life for so long that even Nancy didn't believe he would really make it. But you did, you never gave up on him, and eventually he opened his eyes and smiled that sweet smile at the sight of you, and she'll never forget the wails you let out as you hugged him so tight the nurse tried to pry you off–the memory usually brings a smile to her face. Steve got kicked out of the visiting room for a week after locking her out of the room, just so the four of you could hold Eddie as long as you wanted and kiss him, stroke his hair, tell him you love him…they were hard days, but good ones. But now everyone is just trying to survive normal life, and that's mostly to your credit. You make life just a little more bearable…and when you're gone, like you have been for the last couple hours, they're all on edge.

Nancy hurries after him out the door to the trailer, knowing good and well that she can't let him run off on a rescue mission by himself. He's too reckless with himself and too tunnel visioned when it comes to you, and it's certain not to turn out well if he really freaks out without someone there to calm him down. And that's when the familiar sound of crunching gravel hits her ears and she stops to watch the sight before her, Steve having only gotten to the bottom step before he freezes too.

That familiar van pulls up slowly, slow like the driver is trying not to draw attention, and comes to a stop just about a foot off of the mark that carves out the driveway from the rest of the grass. The pause between the vehicle stopping and the passengers getting out is suspiciously long, but when the doors crack open and the two of them get a glance at you, they're sure they know why.

"Naaaaaancy!" You giggle, your footsteps so wobbly as you move around the hood that you have to use it for support, while Robin hops out from the driver's seat and throws it closed before stumbling towards you. The two of you have to cling to each other, your hands clutching Robin's arm, to even hope to make it up the driveway and towards the front door–and when you get close enough, Nancy's nose crinkles as the smell of liquor wafts over and hits her like a train. So does the realization–you two have been drinking, and drinking hard.

"Can I have a kiss, Nancy?" You cackle, tripping over your own feet and nearly hitting the ground, if not for Robin's surge of strength as she pulls you back up with a goofy smirk on her lips. One glance at Steve, and she can see it clearly–he is absolutely pissed, his scowl mean enough to burn a hole through concrete.

"Where the hell were you two?!" He didn't mean to yell, Nancy knows that, but you two don't even flinch. You're not even all there, too caught up in your own world and in each other's mouths as you capture Robin in a kiss instead.

"Pancakes! Errrr, and other stuff.." You giggle around a mouthful of Robin's tongue, your playful wink just earning you a furious huff from your big, strong protector.

"Oh nooooooo, I think we're in trouble!" The two of you can't contain your laughter as you break off and nuzzle against each other, Robin's arm clutched in your soft hands as she whisper-yells that into your ear. She even cups her hand to make it seem like she's trying to be subtle, and she probably is, she just doesn't realize how loud she's being and how late it is.

"You're drunk." Steve states bluntly. It's not a first for Robin since the Vecna incident, unfortunately, but it's surprising for you.

"Just a liiiiiittle," Robin pouts, her fingers pinched together to show just how 'little' you and her have been drinking. From the smell of you two alone, it has to have been at least a full bottle of straight liquor between you two, maybe more.

"Don't get mad, Stevie! We were havin' fun."

"You were being stupid. You were driving drunk! Without a license!" He's almost vibrating with anger and frustration. Robin's blasé tone pisses him off on a good day, and after putting your life and hers in danger, it does even more so.

"Bite. Me!" You share an even more girlish laugh at Robin's outburst, each word punctuated by a middle finger, like it's the funniest thing in the whole world. "You guys suck ass, you're suffocating us–you guys hate fun!"

Nancy would probably be grabbing Robin's tongue for that foul comment, but she's so out of it she knows that there's no use. She'd probably just laugh it off, or cry, and she doesn't want either of those two extremes to deal with right now. But there is something she has up her sleeve that always works.

"You two made Eddie very upset, you know." Nancy lays her hand on Steve's shoulder as she speaks, silently relaying to him that she's got it under control. A soft "Eddie?" passes your lips. It's incredible how quickly you both snap to attention when she mentions his name, sharing a look between you two before both turning back to listen intently.

"Mhm. He's been up all night worrying about you two. He doesn't like it when you're gone, it makes him scared. You know that." Her voice is stern, but still gentle enough for you two to take in. The 'mom voice' as you, Robin, and Eddie like to call it, which is largely reserved for when she really needs to get firm with one of you. Or all of you.

"Eddie? Where's Eddie?" Your tone wavers, giddiness turning to concern in a matter of syllables.

"Tell us, Nance!" Robin tugs at her sleeve, eyes big and wide with worry.

"He's in his room." Both of you rush past them, hurrying up the steps in a frantic bid to find your beloved boyfriend. You love them all equally, of course–but Eddie is sensitive. Sweet. He's always been that way, but it's increased tenfold since Vecna and caused you to be even more protective over him than you were before. You just want to protect that precious smile no matter what.

"Eddie! We're home, baby!"

It's when you both stumble through the front door that you see him at once. Frazzled, his curly hair mussed, dark circles under his eyes from worry. His nails are bitten down almost completely, bad habit he struggles to kick when he's anxious. He's standing in the living room like he heard the ruckus and had come to see what was happening, but his eyes are clear and set on one of you at a time, switching between like he's assessing that you're both here and both safe.

The two of you rush forward and knock him right off his feet, a startled shriek pulled from his lips followed by a grunt as his back thuds against the carpet, and the two of you collapse on top of him with your full respective weight in a hug so tight he couldn't squirm away if he tried. Even being taken off guard, Eddie squeezes both of you tight in a hug as best he can, a relieved smile flickering across his face as you press desperate kisses to his cheek.

Nancy and Steve step inside, and the sight at their feet just raises a sigh. They might not be happy, but they are glad you're unharmed and in relatively good spirits.

"We're sooooorry, Eddie! Soooo sorry!" You babble, pawing at his neck and his face to plant even more kisses on his lips. He turns only to ruffle Robin's hair and peck her on the forehead, but otherwise his mouth is occupied by yours, and gladly so, if his muffled little gasps and mumbles of "missed you" are any indication.

"What about us? You have an apology for scaring the crap out of us?" Steve asks, irritation still lacing his voice. Part of it is definitely a spark of jealousy, Nancy can tell better than most. It takes you some work and the aid of Eddie's hand, but you get up and stumble over wobbly feet, and throw one arm around Nancy's shoulder and one around Steve's to loosely hug them both.

"M' sorry, Nancy…sorry Stevie….I love you guys soooooooo much.." You maw on each of their cheeks as well, leaving wet kisses by their ears and down their necks as if each one is to make up for one of the many minutes you spent away from them.

"We love you too." Nancy squeezes you back, eyes screwed shut, a breath caught in her lungs as she tries to keep it all in, to keep it together. Breaking down and crying because she was so worried about you would only hurt you.

"I've been bad…"

"Yeah, you have been bad." Steve's hand is in your hair, and despite reaffirming your realization, he's still so gentle with you like you're made of porcelain. As frustrating as he can be, and as much of a dad as he acts like sometimes, he's still so softhearted when it comes to you that it's honestly comical.

"Sooooooo….you gonna punish me?" You pull away to look at both of their faces, and giggle when their eyes widen, and they share a look like they can't believe what you just said. They haven't really seen you drunk very often, so they're not used to the…mood you sometimes get in.

"Not now, baby. But you are gonna make it up to us, later." Nancy tenderly takes your arm off of her and rubs it, trying to be strict but it just comes out soft.

"Aww, Nancy…" Your eyes draw towards Steve, who still has some frustration lingering on his features. He'll never realize how sexy it is–how sexy he is when he's mad. You slide that free arm around his other shoulder, and lean into him for your lips to just barely brush his.

"C'mon, Stevie, wanna feel you inside me…" His shoulders stiffen up and his chest tightens, his lungs at a standstill at the sight of you rubbing your body up against his. And then you lean up, and your lips ghost over his ear, and you whisper that dreaded pet name that sends a shiver up his spine and has him tilting his head up that he wasn't ready for–not in front of the others, at least. "..Wanna be good for you. Promise."

Your little attempt to get him all worked up, and your teeth nibbling at his adam's apple, is interrupted by a soft groan, one that turns all three of your heads towards the two lumps on the floor. When Eddie sits up, he moves to clutch Robin's limp body as she lays against him, who is very clearly asleep and sighing quietly into his neck at the movement.

"Okay, bedtime! C'mon!" With a face still flushed and hot, Steve hups and squats down to wrap his arms around your thighs, before he lifts you up to throw you over his shoulder and starts walking towards Eddie's room. Every step is another bounce and your grin is still loopy and enthused as he does so, while Eddie hauls Robin up to her feet and Nancy supports her by her other arm to lead her the same way. Thankfully it's a short ride, and when Steve flips you back on to the bed and kneels to take your shoes off for you, Robin hangs off your other friends before collapsing into bed beside you. She's so pretty with that red flush to her face, warm and dizzy from the alcohol and laid out on her back, her breasts heaving as she breathes quietly before opening her eyes and turning them towards you.

Once Steve's hands are occupied with carrying off your shoes and no longer ghosting against your ankle, you find yourself moving up on your knees and throwing one over Robin's waist, her fingers lifting up to brace your thigh as you sit gently enough on top of her for it not to hurt. The words have left her vocabulary, but the pleased sigh that she emits at the feeling of you pressed up against her is enough for you to understand.

"Robbie," You lean down to kiss her, and moan the nickname into her mouth. "Wanna do what we did in the backseat…"

"Uh huh…" She whimpers, hands laid out by her head in total submission. Her hips are already rolling against you, mind clearly muddled by need that you apparently haven't satisfied quite yet. Your hands move to unbutton her jeans, your gaze set and tongue flicking out to lick your lips–when Steve grabs you by the wrist and your head tilts to look up at him.

"Prude," You stick your tongue out at him, annoyed at his familiar interruption. Robin wasn't totally wrong, sometimes Steve is such a stick in the mud. He looks genuinely hurt, though, and his eyes fall from yours like he's trying not to show you what he's really feeling.

"Noooo, not the puppy dog eyes…m' sorry for pissin' you off, baby.." His grip loosens on your wrist, but you just grab his instead to pull him close enough for your foreheads to touch. He can't look away now, not even if he wanted to.

"I wasn't really mad, I..I was just…scared." His voice is so rarely this shaky, unsure, that it almost doesn't sound like Steve. Not your confident, headstrong Steve.

"Why?" You smile so innocently, it's nigh impossible to still be mad at you. He knows that, and yet he can never, ever resist it. "I'll always come back, Stevie. Not going anywhere."

A tired smile tweaks at his lips, and he moves to turn away–but you don't let him, and you grab his face to hold it in place.

"I'm not going anywhere, Steve." You sound more sober in that one breath than you have since you got home. More than you ever have, maybe. And he has nothing he can say that can encompass his feelings in that moment, so he just simply nods, and shares a kiss with you that's so damn sweet even with the taste of liquor on your teeth.

Having been relatively quiet until now, Eddie crawls into bed beside you two, his sneakers kicked off but his clothes from the day still on. Nancy's busying herself with pulling up a blanket off the floor to throw over you three, nudging your arm for you to slide off of Robin and cuddle up between the two of them so she can do so. Eddie's breath hitches when your fingertips brush the scars beneath his shirt, the flesh of his belly torn up and only now having healed into what he thinks are ugly scars.

"Eddie's so pretty…" You mumble as you turn to face him, already nodding off with the warmth of both their bodies cushioning you like big, heated pillows. Robin snuggles up to your back and drapes her arm over your waist, and Eddie wedges his arm beneath you two so you can both use it as a pillow, his fingers laced in Robin's hair to help her fall asleep like it always does.

"You're prettier, angelface." His warm breath on your face draws a chuckle from you, and with your eyes closed he kisses your brow before finally settling in to drift off with you. And when Nancy's finished tucking you all in and Steve shuts off the lights, each of you sharing your "I love you"s and "good night"s, the two of them shut the door quietly behind them to leave the three of you in relative peace as you slumber.

It feels like the day has dragged on so long, and in some sense it has–the time is nearing three am if the clock in the hallway is any indication. She and Steve have been awake for far too long, but it doesn't look like he's in any mood to rest by the expression on his face.

"You think we were a little too-"

"Harsh? No." Steve cuts her off abruptly. He knows exactly what she's thinking, he usually does–but this time, for once, Nancy really has no clue what's running through his mind.

"I'm gonna make them regret that tomorrow. I'll slash the tires on that stupid van if it keeps them here." The sudden surge of emotion in his voice takes her by surprise. Almost always, your touch and a few gentle words in that beautiful voice of yours are enough to calm him from whatever is bothering him. He's infamous for falling for your reassurances, giving in to you so often that it's like you're a siren to him, his certainty so often falling to the wayside when you sway him into believing whatever it is you're telling him.

"They might just steal your car, Steve. You know Eddie's got those magic fingers." She waggles her fingers teasingly, she's trying to lighten the mood, and he does chuckle a little at the joke. But the way his face sets immediately after is…intense.

"Not if I break their legs first."

"Steve," Her hand reaches for his arm, but his eyes and his mind are somewhere else.

"Don't." He warns. There's not enough conviction in his voice for her to really be worried about that–at least not now, when not enough has happened for him to really think that's at all a good plan. You haven't scared him enough, but…it does frighten her to think that it's still a possibility, albeit a very small one. Even though it would work, she hates to see you in pain, to see you scared. "Wasn't even my idea. Eddie talks in his sleep."

He steps away with those words lingering on his lips, heading towards the front door to drop your shoes by the others–but not before he reaches over and grabs the bat he's kept since that first night he realized that the world wasn't as safe as he thought it was. He throws the door open, and leans back to call to her before he takes a seat on the step and waits to see if anyone–or anything–followed you two home. Like always.

"...So do you, Nance."

Ok, anyone who needs like an idea or something, but I like need either knight, werewolf, cowboy or pirate Caleb so bad. Like actually.

I especially have been so bad with knight stuff lately and knight Caleb would be the absolute best nail in the coffin for me.

Like imagine a knight Caleb with like stable hand mc UGH I CANT ID GO FERAL FOR IT

Just a reminder for fanfic authors:

Fanfiction will ALWAYS be superior to character.ai

Please don't ever stop writing!!