“Do you ever feel like you’re doing things just because everyone says you’re supposed to?” Mike blurts out.
He doesn’t really know why he says it, but when he looks at Nancy, it’s like a lightbulb has just gone off in her head. She smiles sadly, and nods, and Mike suddenly feels as though this is the most significant understanding they’ve ever come to in all of the time that they’ve known each other. Which is pretty big , considering they’ve known each other since birth.
or
mike and nancy reconnect just before the final battle.
hi! I’ve been compiling a list of every named character shown or mentioned in stranger things. i think this could be helpful for other fic writers too, so i wanted to share the link!
it’s not super detailed and it’s still being updated, but here’s an example of it:
“I Think Im Gonna Love You For A Long, Long Time.”
I’ve decided to start posting my steddie related posts here so that it’s under the same name as my AO3 instead of my other blog. So if you see my work posted on tumblr under another blog, don’t worry its probably me lol
Pairing: Eddie Munson x you // Eddie Munson x f!reader // perv!Eddie Munson x innocent!reader
Genre: romance, mild smut, Catholic trauma, religious trauma, friends to lovers, slow burn
Notes: this will have a three installments // this chapter is just the intro honestly lol so sorry if it’s boring build up // Eddie is kinda pervy lol // he’s kinda dark but also not // i tried to write him to be as much of a consent king as possible
Warnings: MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY, NSFW // talks of religion, reader goes to confession and her priest is a little mean with his words (at the beginning), slight manipulation, pillow humping, humping, first times, dacryphilia, corruption kink, praise kink // masturbation //please let me know if there should be more added, thank you!
ao3 // chapter two // chapter three // masterlist // series masterlist
-:-:-:-:-
Every other Sunday was for confession. While other members of the family went on Wednesdays or Saturdays, you always chose Sundays since it would start the week off on a clean slate.
Not that there was much to confess about. Oftentimes, you would walk from your house to the church a few hours after mass ended, maybe feeling a bit guilty about your thoughts, rarely was it ever your actions. One day, you came in to tell the priest about how angry you got at your parents when they grounded you for accidentally falling asleep in church. You didn’t lash out at them, of course; but, you did curse them in your head — not honouring thy father and mother very well.
Then there was an instance three years ago at the homecoming dance. One girl had on the most beautiful baby blue dress you had ever seen, while you were stuck with a hand-me-down gown of the same colour. You prayed aloud that night in front of your bed, that you would one day have the opportunity to wear a dress as nice as hers. But the prayer backfired when your mother overheard, then told you to march to the church the following morning to confess how you broke the tenth commandment of coveting thy neighbour’s goods.
As a whole, you thought there were never any major moments in your life where you sinned gravely. That was until you went to your friend’s house for Bible study on Saturday night. She hosted it weekly, and invited all the kids from school. Needless to say, only a handful of people appeared. Not that it wasn’t fun, the six of you would always spend a few hours going over passages, and then eat a nice dinner afterwards. Truly, you looked forward to it since there weren’t other things you were invited to in town.
So when this past Saturday rolled around where the first epistle to the Corinthians was read, specifically the sixth chapter and eighteenth verse — your group started to analyze it as normal. But, little did you know that this was the day your heart would drop the hardest it ever has.
‘The sexually immoral person sins against their own body,’ the people in the room repeated the verse over and over, like a chant taunting you and your actions.
It was the first time you walked into the confessional on a Sunday afternoon with shaky legs and an intensely beating heart. You told the priest what you told your friend, trying to rid yourself of the sins you unknowingly committed. But he stopped you, his voice only getting louder as he gave you guidance on your next steps. ‘Stop doing that,’ he said, ‘God may not be so quick to forgive you if you give into the Devil’s temptations so often.’ Then after he assigned you a penance of five Hail Marys and going through the rosary twice, you were gone.
All you could think as you took your first steps outside, were words that should never cross your mind. Not now, not ever.
If sinning is so bad, then why does it feel so good?
-:-:-:-:-
As the day ended, and a new week of school began — your guilt never went away. Teasing you from the back of your subconscious as you walked home, ate dinner, and failed at doing some homework that was due a few days later.
It had been three days since the last time you unknowingly sinned, two days since you found out what it was, and one day since the priest’s voice scared you to the point of no return. Everything affected you gravely, that even once you walked into school Monday morning, the noises from the other students became a muffled and chaotic mess in your ears. So much so, that as you were shakily getting things out of your locker, you didn’t even notice movement from the one next to yours.
“You look stressed, sweetheart.” The voice startled you, only amplifying your inner-guilt, since you spent the past few moments focusing on shutting the voices up in your head, rather than greeting your favourite locker neighbour.
But what made you feel guiltiest of all, was that he is the one who inspired these sins of yours.
The throbbing ache between your legs felt good, and the way your pillow helped relieve that ache felt even better. If you were able to feel this level of delight every night, then why not think of someone who made you feel the same way? — the question plagued your mind nightly, during the moments you were oblivious to committing a sin.
Little did you know that it was truly sexual in meaning.
There was only one person who made you feel equally as amazing with their words and actions. Your locker neighbour to the right, Eddie Munson.
Several moments replayed in your head. Like the time he kept calling you ‘pretty girl’ because you decided to wear a skirt on the first day of Spring. Then, you remember how his calloused fingers felt when they were so close to your face after he brushed your hair from your neck; making sure to linger on your sensitive skin before mentioning how beautiful the silver crucifix looked on you. There were so many times after that too. From his deep voice whispering in your ear to ask if you needed a ride home while you both were in study hall; to his arms wrapping a sweater around your shoulders during lunch when the school’s heater broke. The Hawkins townspeople claimed him as a spawn of the Devil, but you named him as the only true friend you had. The only person to make the butterflies in your stomach tingle every time he spoke to you.
“I-I’m not, it’s just I can see now why Mondays aren’t people’s favourite,” you responded, still staring into the vastness of your locker. Thinking about how your start to the week wasn't so great as it usually is.
Eddie had opened the metal door completely, removing the barrier between the two of you. “But, Mondays are always your favourite because you get to see me after a painstakingly long forty-eight hours,” he pouted while trying to get you to giggle at his dramatics.
It worked.
“Well, I normally see you around the fourth period. This is the earliest you’ve been at school for a while.”
“Mondays are the worst because my homeroom teacher loves putting tests at the buttcrack of dawn,” Eddie groaned, while holding up the notes you loaned him at the beginning of the year since you already took the biology course before.
“Well, good luck, I’m gonna go—” no matter how much you loved talking to him, and how warm he made you feel, Eddie was part of your current predicament. So seeing him now made your heart ache in the worst way.
As you went to grab the locker door to close it, Eddie lightly grabbed your wrist. “I saw you leaving the church yesterday. You looked so,” he paused, moving his head downwards to meet you at eye-level, before continuing. “Sad, you looked so sad. I even called out your name a few times so I could give you a ride home, but you kept walking, so I assumed you didn’t hear me.”
So it was the Devil’s spawn shouting your name as you made your way home; not the Devil himself making you feel guilty for your actions. It was just your friend who wanted to look out for you.
Eddie continued: “or maybe you’re ignoring me,” he pouted with feign-sadness.
“Oh, uh-uhm it was just a really tiring day and I guess the voices in my head were too loud,” it was only partially a lie.
“If something’s bothering you—”
“Nothing’s bothering me, honestly,” this one was a lie, and it came out a bit too easily. But all you could focus on now was the feeling of Eddie’s thumb stroking small circles on the soft skin of your wrist.
He looked you up and down suspiciously before saying, “you know you can tell me anything, right?”
“I do.”
“So whatever is going through your mind, let me know. Who am I to judge anyways?” He winked before letting go of your wrist.
You nodded, seriously contemplating if you wanted to have a confessional with your little Devil. Just as you stared at him with eyes full of conflict, the bell rang. Instead of responding, you softly said your farewell. “Anyways, see you later during fourth period, if you decide to come again.”
It was the only class Eddie had a perfect attendance score in, but he would never let you know that you’re the reason why.
-:-:-:-:-
By the time English class rolled along, you didn’t realize just how much your body was moving itself robotically. Going through the movements you’ve been so used to doing for the years you’ve been in high school. Nothing out of the ordinary happened, thankfully. First period was a calculus lesson, history happened afterwards with a lecture on the French Revolution, then a substitute showed up for geography during third period so that was a boring class. All throughout those hours, you kept quiet; because the wrath of the Angel on your shoulder, condemning you for your sins, was becoming far too much. To even think about answering questions the teachers asked was mentally exhausting.
It all came to a peak once you sat on your chair for fourth period English — the only class you had with Eddie this semester, and of course, the only class everyone sat at long desks that held two people. As you looked out the window to the dark blue skies of Autumn, your conscience kept telling you to be careful. You were about to sit next to the boy who amplified your senses as you sinned. Goodness knows how he’ll react to the news if you told him.
What would he think if he found out you think about his hands helping guide your hips nightly, or his voice telling you ‘you’re so beautiful’ when you finally find the climax of your relief, or his lips kissing your —
“You’re still so tense,” the voice brought you out of your haze for the second time today. But this time, Eddie’s warm hand was on the top of your left thigh; the set of thighs you unknowingly went from bouncing one second to squeezing together the next.
“Just tired, maybe I’ll nap when I get home,” you sighed. Truly, it has been three days since the bane of your guilt was committed. You could barely sleep now that you’ve stopped doing your nightly routine.
“Take a nap in my van, I have cute pillows in there,” he scrunched his nose as he teased you, then released your thigh to stretch his arms in the air.
Thinking of how your class went to the zoo for a field trip once, and Eddie found the scariest-looking bats cute, you replied sweetly: “your definition of cute is not really the same as mine.”
“But, I think you’re cute, don’t you?” Eddie loved to make you blush with his not-so-suave comments. Said it was practice for whenever he goes to the bars and flirts with girls there. But he never was able to make them flustered in the way you always were.
You saw the teacher walk into class in your peripheral vision, and prayed that would mean you didn’t need to talk to your locker and desk neighbour for the next three quarters of an hour. “I’m not,” you shyly say while looking away from The Dealer completely.
“You’re such a good girl too,” his voice was deeper than normal.
He was wrong. So wrong. The guilt in your heart only deepens as his words echo in your ear, along with the voices of your priest telling you need to repent for your sins. If this day couldn’t have gotten any worse, of course the muse of your sinful thoughts believes you’re a good girl when you aren’t.
“I-I’m—” your words are saved by the bell and your teacher’s voice which booms through the classroom. You thought you were safe, thought that until lunch you could get away with not looking at the boy who makes you unknowingly rub your legs together. But no, the day that was going downhill, just hit rock bottom.
“This class is a bit different, it will be a work period since I’m assigning you a small project due Wednesday. That’s not a lot of time, so today will be a work period then tomorrow we will have a lesson. I hope that you all can get the project finished after school over the next couple days.”
Doing a small project wouldn't be so bad, would it? The curiousity sat in your brain momentarily before your thoughts went haywire. The teacher paired you off, specifically with the people you were sitting next to, where each duo would need to analyze and present a different chapter of The Picture of Dorian Gray. So after a beat of silence once the teacher’s explanation was over, the class erupted in murmured voices and squeaky chairs. But you couldn’t get yourself to move to face your project partner.
“Don’t kill me but, we may need to finish this tonight because tomorrow—”
“You have your g-gig, I remember,” spreading out your time with Eddie would have helped your intensifying sinful thoughts subside. At least until you got over your bad habit. But now, you both had to do this for your grades — mainly his — so there was no time to lose. Maybe this could be a positive distraction.
“How about we work on it today right after school so we can get it over with?” he suggests.
“Alright, I guess skipping band practice one time wouldn’t be so bad,” you start shaking your left leg again. If you were a sinner, why not fall down the path of delinquency — your tendency to accept defeat a little too quickly, and then spiral, was catching up to you now.
Eddie notices, and touches your thigh again to calm you down like he has so many times before, even a few minutes ago. Although now, you move your leg away from his grip. “No, no, no, you go be a good girl and head to band practice, then I’ll pick you up afterwards and we'll run to the library,” he says trying not to sound disappointed that you backed away from his touch.
“I’ll finish probably a little after half-past three today since there’s only one song to practice,” you state while opening the book to the assigned chapter. “What will you do while you wait?”
“Oh, you know, maybe do some buying and selling,” The Dealer says nonchalantly.
“Shopping?” you ask innocently.
“Of sorts,” he mimes the act of smoking a joint in your direction, and you look at him curiously before understanding what he meant. You remember your father telling you it’s not a good idea to be friends with your locker neighbour because he’s a sinner who does the Devil’s drugs.
Guess he rubbed off on you, while you rubbed off on something else.
The pang of guilt hit you again. Like a stab to the heart from God himself. Tonight, you’ll do penance until you sleep, before the Devil on your shoulder tells you to commit your sinfully bad habit again. “R-right,” you say quietly. “Let’s get started then, you have to stay focused, Eddie, do you promise?”
“Pinky promise, my dear,” he grabs your fingers that are so much smaller than his, and hooks his pinky onto yours. “Only if you promise to focus too. You’ve been zoning out all day long. When you walk from class to class it looks like you’re constantly about to puke.”
“I do not,” you say in a defiant whisper.
“So do,” he teases. “Listen, if I promise to stay focused the entire time while we try and finish this project, you’re gonna tell me why you’re acting this way. It’s worrying me.”
You pause, looking at Eddie’s weirdly mischievous eyes as he starts to rub the bottom of your back. “There’s nothing really bothering me, though.”
“You’re lying, aren’t you, pretty girl?” his fingers started circling in a pattern that brought pleasurable shivers up your spine. After years of giving you featherlight touches — because that’s what friends do, he said one day — he knew exactly where to grasp your body to make you relax.
“Let me think about it,” you slightly give in. However, you can’t get yourself to admit, again, how badly you want to confess your sins to the one who inspired them.
He notices how you started to squeeze your thighs together again during this class. “That’s all I ask,” Eddie chuckles before moving his hands to your waist to move your body closer to himself. “Now, don’t kill me again, but I didn’t read the chapter. Or the book, so,” he elongated the last word while looking at you with feign-innocence with his doe eyes and pursed lips.
One thing you unknowingly did admit, was just how easily you were able to fall for his manipulative ways.
-:-:-:-:-
As Eddie waited in his van for you to come out of band practice, all he could think about was how strange you’ve been acting throughout the day. You were always one to talk to him in shy tones as he would talk your ear off in any given conversation. Today was different though, and he wasn’t able to place a finger on it. What hurt him most was when you reacted to his touch by moving your leg away — a move you haven’t done in the years you had gotten used to his touch. Then, you didn’t join him for lunch like you did every Monday and Friday, since the other days you would be asked to join the band or church group tables.
Something was off, and Eddie feels like it has something to with the downcast image of you walking through Hawkins on Sunday afternoon. Today, he was going to figure it out.
Ever since the man found out his locker was next to yours on the first day of Freshman year, The Dealer became obsessed with you. Not that you noticed him often — Eddie was notorious for skipping class so much that even though you went to your locker between every class, you would only see him once a day during that year of high school. However, he definitely noticed you: your shyness, the way you kept your head down as you roamed the hallways to the next period, and how you had a tendency of jumping a little every time you closed your locker and saw him standing there at his.
The small silver crucifix that was dangling on your neck was the icing on the cake for Eddie. Realizing then, that you were an innocent Angel who went to Bible study and mass every week. While he could only ask God why He put him in such a shitty place with even shittier parents.
Your innocence astounded him — like when people would joke around about how you didn’t know what sex was, all you would do is blush; or how one time a Senior basketball player walked up to your locker and invited you on a date. He was infamous for keeping a list of all the girls he took the virginities of, and you were his next target. The only thing you did though, was thank him and tell him that Bible study was scheduled to be a long one this week so you would rather go to that.
Something possessive leaped out of Eddie that day as he overheard the conversation from behind the metal door. He had to have you, had to know what it was like to roam your mind. He would do anything to make sure you were his.
So he did. Slowly, as the days passed, he would start talking to you more, trying to get you out of your little shell. You were so quiet that sometimes he would need to get close to your figure as you spoke — not that he minded of course. Eddie genuinely did love your innocence and how you didn’t even realize that he was being a flirtatious pervert when he complimented you. That every time he mentioned you were wearing something nice that day, he would go home and picture fucking you in only that piece of clothing or jewelry. His favourite, being the image of you wearing only that tiny silver crucifix you both loved so much.
Then there were the touches you had grown accustomed to. Eddie would invite you to sit with him during lunch — where he would lightly touch your fingers as he went to steal a fry off your tray. Afterwards, he would take his perverted compliments further, by straightening out the fabric of your skirt or shirt collar for you even if it just came from the dry cleaners. The Dealer would do anything to have an excuse to caress your skin for one moment.
You had asked him one day when you had visited his home to watch a movie: “you touch me a lot, why?”
“Do you not like it? Sorry, I just really enjoy—” if he wasn’t already worried about the fact that you were in his trailer for the first time, his heart dropped at the thought that you might hate him for his touch.
“No,” you would never want to make Eddie feel guilty for his actions. Youth group lessons taught you better than that, since it was only right to be accepting of everyone. “What I mean is, I don’t see many other friends do that with each other and I feel bad for them.”
It was his turn to be curious now. “What do you mean?”
“Your touches are nice, Eddie, so soft and sweet. I wish that all people would feel as nice as this with their friends too.” Look at you being charitable with your experiences — when these touches were only meant for you.
“That’s what friends do, they find ways to make their friends feel good.”
“Do you want me to do it for you too?” you reach out to touch his shoulder awkwardly, but you weren’t one to enjoy touching other people yourself.
“Not if you don’t want to. You make me feel good by being there for me when I need it. While I do the same for you, when you need someone to support you,” it’s true; even through all his indecent intentions, Eddie truly found an innocent and friendly warmth within himself for you, besides his love of wanting to be more than friends.
You look at him with sweet eyes to innocently ask the next question. “Then may you please rub my back like you do sometimes? It makes my heartbeat calm down and this movie is scary.”
“Of course, Angel,” it was right then, Eddie realized how much he loved it when you were needy.
“I wish I could have you do this whenever my cousins want to watch horror movies with me. Honestly, my parents don’t even know I’m here. But I just like your tou–”
“Tsk tsk, so naughty. Where do they think you are?”
“Am not,” you exclaimed and Eddie could tell your heart was beating a lot faster than before so he started to rub sweet circles on your back. “Plus, they think I’m watching a movie at a friend’s house, just don’t know who. It’s not a lie. I’m still a good girl.”
“Yes, you are,” he proclaimed deeply, realizing his rebel tendencies have inspired you. While you nearly moaned as your heartbeat stabilized, his touch and his voice made you feel so much better.
When Eddie was home alone that night, he couldn’t stop replaying the small whimpers of yours he memorized. If it was the hormones, or your innocent eagerness to be alone with him and let him touch you — he would never know which one he loved more.
Eddie was a sinner, he knew that, and was able to empower himself with the label. No matter how many times people around Hawkins would rebuke him as the Devil, or how often he would get stares from kids at school as he started to talk to you more: none of it phased him. What he loved most about you was how easily your innocence became obliviousness when it came to his sins – that you would hear about them and refuse to believe he was such a bad person because he was always so nice to you. Eddie couldn’t seem to understand why.
What he did understand though, was that his biggest sin was that every damn day of his life he was on the path of no return when it came to wanting to corrupt your virtue. To make all of his fantasies become a reality as he wanted to slowly make you addicted to him.
Did you figure it out? Is that why you were so awkward with him throughout the day? Why did you beg for his familiar touch in his memories, but pull away today?
Eddie’s mind moved at a million miles a minute, unsure of what was going on. But one thing was for sure: he was going to find out exactly what was hurting you, and he was going to do everything in his power to relieve that pain.
A small tap on the driver door window brought him out of his overstimulated thoughts. “Are you ready to go?” Your voice was muffled by the barrier, but Eddie was able to hear you before nodding.
He chuckled at your tendency to knock everywhere before you entered. Even with the van, you never approached it first unless he was already in it, or opened the door for you — that was mainly because The Dealer wanted to have some semblance of being a gentleman to you, even if he took that opportunity to touch your back to guide you into your seat.
“So the library?” Eddie asked as he watched you put your bag on the floor and straighten your skirt in the seat, not looking him in the eye as you respond.
“Y-yeah, it probably won’t be crowded since it’s a Monday.”
You were wrong, so wrong. It looks like all of the English teachers assigned similar group projects to their classes, since the library was filled to the brim with students from all grades cooped up at tables. You started to get nervous, the library was going to be your saving grace as you worked on this project.
“Should we go to my place?” He asked while tugging on the strap of your backpack lightly to get your attention.
“No,” you exclaimed a little too loudly, shocking Eddie a bit. “We can j-just go to mine instead.”
If you two finished the tasks at his trailer, then you felt as if it was walking into the Devil’s lair — a place where Eddie sinned like your parents said he did. The memories of the times your friend made you feel warm were enough to commit your treacherous acts; goodness knows how you’ll be when you’re in a room where everything is him.
While bringing the Devil reincarnate into your home wasn’t the best idea, your house had your Bible and other religious paraphernalia to protect you from giving into temptation. But, that’s also the place where you committed your unknowing sin, night after night — you thought.
These conflicting thoughts were about to be the death of you, as long as the annoying throbbing between your legs and Eddie’s teasingly sinister voice didn’t get you first.
2 things that Stranger Things fanfics often get wrong about the Demogorgon
It is spelled Demogorgon. I’ve seen it spelled as Demagorgon a lot, and I just want to mention it.
The D&D version of the Demogorgon is a singular character, not a species. I’ve seen fics where the gang is playing D&D and they talk about fighting/using demogorgons, plural, in their campaign. But the D&D Demogorgon is a prince of hell, a singular character in the same way as Vecna.
(It’s a totally understandable mistake to make, just want to inform writers who aren’t as familiar with D&D)
To those of you who don't know me I'm Armani, I run a K-pop main blog where I write and do ships and astrology and a bit of everything. But I want to give something else a go. >> @lixsflowerchild
A little backstory on me, I was a film student for three years, I quit, ain't doing that again ever. But I have watched a lot of tv, a lot of movies, and I have played a lot of videogames and have had my fair share of anime and manga moments. So with all that being said I wanted to combine all of that and start writing fanfiction and doing some matchups/ ships for all the characters who have won us all over.
Welcome to the video shack and feel free to leave an enquiry about what I offer.
To kick things off I'll be writing for Stranger Things and Squid Game just to see how that goes, but my ideas are infinite.
As far as ships and matchups go I will post a follow up to this post regarding which fandoms I do matchups for and the types that will be available!
Can't wait to interact out in the big wide deep outside of Kpop and yeah! Lets gaurrrr !!!
summary: steve wants to try something new with his girlfriend.
warnings/tags: smut (18+ only, minors dni), unprotected sex, P in V, horny af!steve, dom!steve (duh it's me), squirting, fingering, oral- fem receiving, dirty talk, dacryphilia, established relationship, aftercare (it's important), hopefully i didn't miss anything
edit: tumblr keeps deleting/doubling my paragraphs, which is really annoying, so for when it inevitably does it again, the link to my AO3 is at the bottom for those of you who want a non-tumblr-edited-original version of the fic <3
“Hey, Y/N?” Steve turned to look at the girl sitting next to him on the couch. His girl.
“Mmm?” she hummed, turning her face towards him slightly, but her eyes remained on the TV in front of them. Movie night. With Steve’s job at Family Video, movie night was an obvious and easy choice for date night, but it was Steve’s favorite for other reasons.
“Can you squirt?” Straight to the point. They’d been dating for several months, so who was he to dodge the question? And with the mood he was in right now, he wasn’t sure he could’ve been subtle about it even if he’d tried. Steve’s head was nowhere near focused on the movie that was playing on screen, and like numerous movie nights in the past, he knew where tonight was going. So why not cut to the chase?
Steve didn’t even bother having the decency to look ashamed at his blatantly vulgar question. He simply shrugged in self-defense, “I was just thinking, baby. You’re so responsive when something’s buried deep in that sweet pussy of yours– my cock, fingers, whatever. Just wondering if that’s something you can do… Or do you even know?” He looked her straight in the eyes now, pupils blown wide with lust, clearly fixated on the image in his mind.
“Oh, um–” she blushed at his dirty words. He only spoke like this when he got really worked up, and sure enough, when her gaze traveled to his lap, his jeans were stretched tight and tenting already. His eyes were still locked on hers when she looked back into his face, and he reached down, palming and adjusting himself as she tried to stutter out an answer to his question. “Jesus, Steve, I don’t know– I don’t think– I mean, I’ve never…before.” She swallowed hard, cheeks red, and at a loss for words.
“Oh, um–” she blushed at his dirty words. He only spoke like this when he got really worked up, and sure enough, when her gaze traveled to his lap, his jeans were stretched tight and tenting already. His eyes were still locked on hers when she looked back into his face, and he reached down, palming and adjusting himself as she tried to stutter out an answer to his question. “Jesus, Steve, I don’t know– I don’t think– I mean, I’ve never…before.” She swallowed hard, cheeks red, and at a loss for words.
Steve had stopped really listening after her timid “I don’t know,” and he wasn’t particularly proud of his inability to hold himself back, but as soon as she trailed off, he blurted, leaning forward, his hand on her thigh, “Well, can we try? I mean, can I try– to make you squirt? I think you can do it, Y/N, and God, it would be so fucking hot. Haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since I had the idea, and shit– it’s been driving me crazy, baby.”
Y/N just stared at him blankly, part of her still shocked at his forwardness, and part of her, he hoped, was imagining it too. “I mean, yeah– fuck– yeah we can try it, but swear you won’t be upset if it turns out I can’t?”
Steve turned to face her completely at that and reached to gather her up in his arms. His fluffy and perfectly-styled-as-usual hair tickled her cheek. He placed a kiss on her head, chuckling, “Oh, baby, of course not. I could never be upset with you over something like that. I doubt you could control it anyway. Worst case scenario, you don’t squirt, but you still get a pretty damn awesome orgasm out of it. What’d’ya say, hmm? You wanna try it right now? The movie can wait, but I don’t think I can.”
She giggled at his eagerness, nodding her head, and Steve leapt to his feet, his brown eyes sparkling with excitement, as he dragged her up with him. He took hold of her hand and led her upstairs as fast as his sock-covered feet would let him without slipping. He let go of her hand and ducked into the upstairs bathroom to grab a clean towel.
When he came back to his bedroom, she was sprawled on his bed, on her back, looking like a dream. He dropped the towel on the floor by his bed and ran, throwing himself onto the mattress, landing beside her with a bounce. He turned on his side— head bent over hers, planting quick kisses all over her face while his hands wandered along the curves of her body. She squealed and laughed, squirming away and pushing him back with her hands on his chest like he was tickling her.
“Steve! Thought you wanted to make me squirt, not smother me to death with kisses!” she laughed, and Steve responded by rutting his hard cock against her thigh, letting her feel just how much he still intended to make her feel good, “Oh, I will— but patience, baby, is a virtue,” he smirked against her neck, dropping open-mouthed kisses on her baby-soft skin.
She whimpered as he found her sweet spot, “I thought—” she panted, “I thought, you ‘couldn’t wait any longer.’” Her teasing didn’t have quite the intended effect, though, when her words dissolved into soft whines as Steve suckled harshly, leaving a not-quite-subtle marking on her neck.
“That was before I had your pretty ass in my bed, darlin’,” he breathed into her ear. “Now, I’m gonna draw this out as long as I feel like it, and you’re gonna be my good girl and let me, aren’t you?” Her breath hitched in her throat at the words he murmured in that dominant tone she loved so much. She nodded frantically, any smartass comments she’d been preparing dissolving like every thought in her brain other than Steve.
But her nods weren’t enough for Steve; he wanted to hear the breathlessness in her voice again, the soft high-pitched whines she’d make when she— “Use your words for me, baby.” His tone was soft, but there was no questioning the fact that he expected to be obeyed. So she did.
Her brain was jumbled, but she managed to link enough words together to tell him, “I-I’ll be good for you, Steve.”
He smiled that little cocky smirk of his, “That’s my girl. Now, let’s get you undressed for me, baby, hmm?”
“‘Kay,” she murmured softly, already looking a bit dazed, and he’d barely even touched her yet. Fuck. She looked so pretty laying all sprawled out and ready for him. He sat back on his heels and reached for the waistband of her jeans. His fingers dipped just barely under the fabric brushing along the skin of her waist. No matter how many times he touched her, he knew he’d never get over the softness of her skin. It just made her seem all the more sweet and innocent, despite the fact that Steve knew that she was anything but.
She hummed softly at his touch, hips lifting slightly off the bed, as if to encourage him to move it along. Steve chuckled, a soft “Patience” leaving his lips, and she scrunched up her face at his command, but stopped squirming. He leaned forward, hands still hovering around the button of her jeans, and pressed a kiss to her lips as a reward for listening to him the first time. She smiled her soft, pretty smile, and avoided his gaze, suddenly shy at the display of sweet intimacy. There was that innocent look of hers again.
“Fuck,” Steve swore aloud— that look was gonna be the death of him, he already knew it. He knew he’d just told her to be patient, but Jesus, he was about two seconds away from snapping himself. He popped the button of her jeans and shimmied them, along with her simple lace panties, down her legs, tossing them onto his floor without a second thought. Normally he liked to take his time (even now he was trying) and undress her slowly, one article of clothing at a time, but right now, despite his best efforts, all he could think about was getting her naked underneath him.
He slid his hands up her thighs, squeezing them as he went, watching as his girl lay, still hiding her face under her forearm. He could just make out her smile though, and when he reached the hem of her shirt, he pulled her up into him, “C’mere, honey. Let’s get you out of this, okay? Then m’gonna make you squirt, and you’re gonna feel so, so good.”
She was pliable in his arms, willingly following every guidance he gave her, and within seconds, her shirt had joined the rest of her clothes on the floor of the bedroom. Steve’s fingers had a mind of their own, so after pulling the cups of her bra down and letting her breasts spill out, he pinched and squeezed her nipples before reaching around behind her and unfastening the clasp. Laying her back down with not a piece of fabric left on her, Steve couldn’t help but lean over her and take one of her pretty little peaks in his mouth. His hand covered the other, fingers and thumb rolling her nipple in between, and she moaned, whining as her hands threaded through his hair.
He made his way slowly down her body, kissing, caressing, biting as he went. Her moans only got louder, but he’d only gotten down to her stomach before she stopped him with a gentle hand and a soft whine, “Stevie?”
He lifted his head, somewhat reluctantly, “Yes, baby?”
She tugged lightly on the neck of his shirt, “Off, please?” She gave him her best pleading eyes because she knew that he enjoyed having her naked while he was fully clothed. Fortunately for her, Steve knew he couldn’t resist those eyes, or at least, it was really difficult to, and he didn’t feel like wasting any more time. He was desperate and willing to admit that to himself. He reached back and shucked his shirt off, tossing it on the floor and resuming his worshiping of her body.
Steve licked and bit down gently at the skin around her hip bones. God, he loved her skin, soft and warm, and when he ran his tongue along her curves, she tasted like just the tiniest bit of salt. He loved it– he breathed in her scent and left scattered marks all around her hips and waist for her to fuss at him for later. But he couldn’t help it. He loved seeing his marks on her the next day.
He was always telling her that in his eyes, there was nothing she could do to make herself any more or less attractive to him. She was simply perfect to him in every way. And that was true– there wasn’t anything she could do, but he, he could make her his. And yeah, if that was wrong, then he was guilty as charged, but damn, those red and purple bruises his love left on her just did something to him. He was the type to be proud of his work. The memories of making them and the fantasies of doing it again gave him a thrill he couldn't explain.
Y/N gasped softly as Steve ghosted his lips along her upper thighs. His fingertips pressed gently into the plush of her skin as he pushed her legs up to bend at the knee and then slowly pried them apart. She whined with impatience, but now that Steve was getting somewhere, he was perfectly content to make her wait a bit. He dragged the tip of his finger slowly up her slit and watched as she squirmed under his touch.
Steve tsked at her, “Uh, uh, uh, be still, Y/N. C’mon, I know you wanna be good for me, angel.” She hummed in response and tried her best to be still— her brow furrowing in concentration. Steve couldn’t wait to ruin her. He ducked his head down to blow on her most sensitive area, impressed when she remained still, even though he heard a tiny whine in her throat. His thumbs parted her lips, exposing her clit to the cool air, and when he licked that first broad stripe right up her entrance, she let out a strangled mix between a gasp and a moan.
He left kitten licks all around her slit, slowly feeling her get wetter and wetter until she was practically dripping all over his bedspread. He took that as a sign that it was time to get the towel he’d grabbed earlier. He pulled off of Y/N reluctantly, and she whined “Stevieee,” clearly unhappy he was no longer in between her legs.
“Shh, shh, honey,” Steve hovered above her again in a second, showing her the towel. “I’m not leavin’ you, but I’m gonna put this down underneath you, okay? C’mon, lift up for me, baby.”
She did as he asked immediately, and he settled back between her thighs like he’d never left. “There, now. I’m about to make you feel so good if you let me. You gonna let me?”
“Yes, Steve, just please touch me again,” she begged so pretty, and Steve couldn’t help but oblige. He parted her pretty lips again, and when his tongue made contact with her clit once more, he positioned his finger at her entrance, slowly tracing around it until her breathing hitched just slightly. Once she relaxed, he took the opportunity to slip his finger inside, earning the sweetest moan from her. Damn. She was so soaked with that sweet slick that her pussy practically sucked in that first digit he offered her, so he quickly added another, moaning as he watched his fingers enter her slowly again and again.
He stretched her carefully and gently so as not to hurt her, but with the way she was tossing her head back, hips bucking ever so slightly, trying to get friction from his fingers, he almost didn’t think he could if he tried. God, she was just so beautifully responsive.
But he wanted more from her. He crooked his fingers up into her spongy walls, pressing until he found the spot that made her jump. Her thighs were shaking now, threatening to close around his head, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t love that, but he needed them open now. He spat on her clit, and she moaned at the sound. Filthy girl, Steve thought, smirking. He sat up on his knees, holding her thighs open with his body.
His thumb found her clit and quickly pressed and rubbed at it in a circular pattern that had her head thrashing from side to side on the pillow. Her arms came up to cover her eyes as his fingers struck up a rhythm too, thrusting repeatedly into her g-spot. Her hips matched his movements in no time, so that she was practically riding his hand.
He’d never seen something so hot before, and suddenly, he remembered the pain below his belt. He reached down, abandoning her clit for a second, despite protests and whines from her, and popped the button on his jeans, yanking the zipper down to give himself some much needed relief. He was still painfully hard, but at least he wasn’t being restricted by the tight denim anymore, and now that his need wasn’t as urgent, he returned his focus to her.
She was whining and begging, mostly incoherent at this point, unable to say much more than “Please, Steve, please,” with that breathy, high-pitched whine of hers. Thrashing around, thrusting lewdly onto his fingers, nearly in tears with desperation for the same kind of friction he’d given her moments ago.
“Y/N, baby, baby. Be still, darlin’, one more time for me, m’kay. M’gonna make you see stars, sweet girl,” Steve promised her. The noise that fell from her lips only served to make him harder, which he didn’t even think was possible. He placed his hand flat on her stomach, still thumbing her clit, and pressed down. He was convinced he could feel his own fingers curving and pressing up inside of her. He groaned as her head tossed from side to side, and she keened for him.
“Stevie, Steve–” she panted, hands reaching for his as if to stop him or slow down his movements, but her fingers just wrapped around his wrist loosely, trying anything to ground herself. “I think– God, I– think I’m gonna, Stevie– you gotta stop before I–” Her grip on his wrist tightened, but Steve wasn’t slowing down for anything, other than her safeword.
“It’s okay, baby. You won’t. Just gonna come so hard, Y/N– I want you to fucking soak me, princess, yeah? Let go for me, okay? Let go,” Steve leaned forward, careful not to disturb his rhythm, since it seemed to be doing exactly what he’d been hoping for. Her eyes were either wide, watching his face and his forearms as he finger-fucked her relentlessly, or screwed shut so tightly her whole face scrunched up.
He could hear his heartbeat in his ears as she got even louder. Thank god his parents weren’t home, because they’d definitely be able to hear her whining and moaning his name. He wasn’t totally sure his neighbors couldn’t hear it, but with every noise she made, he felt closer and closer to living his fantasy. He wanted her to squirt all over him– he needed it. He wanted to taste her sweet juices more than anything, and when he felt the first clench around his fingers, he couldn’t help but gasp out her name, “Oh, Y/N, that’s right, baby. C’mon, sweet girl. Let it go, I know you can, baby. Wanna feel you soak me, Y/N, c’mon–”
Steve was rambling, but Y/N always said simply hearing his voice helped get her off, so he kept going. He wasn’t focused on what he was saying, but every word seemed to cause her pussy to tighten, and he was so worked up himself he felt like he could come untouched, and wouldn’t that be something?
Y/N made a strangled noise like she was crying, and he felt something warm and wet coating his fingers, dripping down her hole. Fuck, this was it– his biggest fantasy about to come true. She gasped loudly, “Steve!” and suddenly, she was convulsing, her eyes rolling back, and a stream of clear liquid was gushing all over Steve, his hand, his arm, his chest, his face. The towel was soaked, and honestly, with the amount that had just arced out of her, he doubted it did much to protect his comforter, but obviously, he wasn’t upset about it. Her cunt was still pulsing around his fingers as her fucked her through it. She was still moaning as her head tossed gently now from side to side, not violently like before.
Once he was sure she’d finished coming down, he slipped his fingers out of her gently, trying his best not to startle her. Her eyelids fluttered, and she looked at him exhausted. He’d never seen her look more fucked out. “Holy shit, baby,” he huffed, shocked. “That was fucking incredible! Didn’t even know that was actually possible, that much I mean. You’re so fucking amazing, angel.”
Y/N hummed happily in acknowledgment, rubbing her eyes, and opened her mouth, “Taste?”
Steve chuckled in disbelief, “Fuck, baby. Yeah, you can fucking taste, shit, that’s hot as hell, Y/N.” He placed the fingers that were coated in her slick on her waiting tongue, and she wasted no time in sucking his fingers clean, moaning wantonly, like she knew exactly what she was doing to him. He reached down, gathering her juices that had landed on his chest, and licked the taste of her off his fingers. He couldn’t help fisting his cock with his other hand for any kind of relief– it was getting difficult to ignore the throbbing in his dick now. “So sweet, Y/N. Tastes so fucking good, honey. Like candy. God, I wanna make you squirt forever.”
Y/N giggled under him. “You can later, Stevie, but please, fuck me? Wanna come around your cock– Don’t you wanna feel me, baby? So fucking wet for you–” She wiggled her hips to emphasize her point, drawing Steve’s eyes once again to her dripping pussy. He leaned forward, hovering above her on one elbow, still jacking himself, and his lips met hers in a searing kiss. He tasted her slick on her lips and moaned into the kiss, licking into her mouth, opening her up for him as he lined himself up at her entrance. His tip kissed her slit and dragged up and down her folds. She whined into the kiss as protest, for him to hurry it up already, and Steve wasn’t about to argue with her. They’d both waited long enough.
Without breaking the kiss, Steve positioned himself at her still-weeping hole, giving her only a second before he began to press inside. He moved slowly– there was little resistance because she was so soaked, but she was also unbelievably tight, as if her squirting had caused her muscles to contract tighter than before he’d opened her up. He moaned as she allowed his tip inside. She gasped as he pushed in slowly, inch by inch. Eventually, he was fully seated inside her, his head dropping down to rest on her shoulder. He panted, gasping, needing to move more than anything, but determined to wait until she gave him the ‘go ahead.’
Thankfully, a few seconds later, her head was nudging his gently, and she was whining in his ear, “Move, please, Stevie?”
That was all Steve needed to hear. He turned his head to lay kisses on her neck and slowly rocked his hips back and forth. Gently, at first, then faster and faster, until he was pounding into her. The blood rushed in his ears, and all he could hear was her moans every time he slammed into her and the slapping of skin against skin.
He scraped his teeth along her neck, sucking bruises and tiny marks into her skin, before pushing up off of her. He yanked her hips forward, pulling her closer, and pulled her legs up to rest on his shoulders. His hands massaged the skin of her hips, so soft and smooth. God, he loved this girl. His girl.
This new angle allowed him to penetrate her even deeper than before, and by the sweet sounds she made, he guessed he was pounding against her cervix. Like reading his thoughts, Y/N groaned out, “Steve, baby, you’re so deep, I think I can feel you in my tummy!”
She knows me like a soulmate, Steve thought, but what he said was simply a grunt and “Yeah, baby? Bet you like that, dontcha? Bet you love bein’ able to feel me that deep, honey. Such a slut for that, aren’t ya? Such a slut for me, squirting all over me like a pornstar, so fucking sexy, Y/N!” Steve’s hair was damp with sweat, so he shoved it back off his forehead. He was breathing hard, but no way he was letting himself come until she came again, and he knew he couldn’t last much longer.
With one goal in mind, he pulled out, much to Y/N’s disappointment. She whined immediately, “Stevie!” He grabbed her waist and flipped her quickly onto her stomach. She huffed and grunted at the sudden movement, but Steve just laughed, “Oh, really? You’re gonna lay there and fuss at me when all I’ve done is made you squirt–” He gave her ass a hard smack. “Made you come.” Smack. “And fucked the shit out of you?” Smack.
Her moans were muffled slightly by the pillows, “M’sorry, Stevie! ‘m just so close!” She wriggled underneath him, pushing up on her hands and knees, and pressed her ass back against his leaking cock, trying desperately to get him to fill her. His hand came down on her ass again hard, “Be still, sweets. You’ll take what I give you, ‘kay?” She nodded frantically, slumping down so her cheek was pressed into the pillows again, but still very much presenting her leaking hole.
Steve groaned at the sight of her, waiting for him, legs spread, and pumped his cock a couple times before ramming back into her. She made noises somewhere in between a grunt and a moan every time his hips met her ass, but Steve wanted more from her. He slipped his fingers in the crease where her hips turned to thighs and yanked back hard over and over again.
He slammed into her repeatedly, still chasing his goal of making her come again before he let himself go. She was just so fucking tight it was hard for him to focus. Tonight was about her pleasure though– for his pleasure, of course, but if he got off on watching her enjoy herself, then at least they’d both be satisfied.
Steve threaded his fingers through her hair gently, before grabbing on and pulling, forcing her head up off the bed. His hand moved down to her throat then, his other arm wrapping around her waist as he pulled her up to rest against him, her back to his chest. He kept his rhythm steady, but leaned down to press kisses into her neck.
Her head tossed back onto his shoulder, and he couldn’t help growling in her ear, “Fuck yeah, baby. Betcha like that, hm? Love feeling me in you–” He sucked a bruise into her neck, just under her ear, and she moaned at the feeling, her cunt clenching around him. “Ooh, that felt good too, hm?” Steve teased. “My princess likes a little pain, but we knew that, didn’t we?”
Y/N responded only with a moan, but Steve could tell she was close. His hand ghosted over her clit, letting her know he knew what she needed. But he wanted a verbal answer from her first. “Getting close, hm? You gonna come around my cock like the good girl I know you are?” Y/N turned her head to look him in the eyes as best as she could, and Steve felt a thrill at seeing tears streaming down her face. Her mascara was running, and he thought, somewhat guiltily, that she’d never looked more beautiful.
“C’mon, sweet girl, let me hear it. Wanna hear how close you are,” Steve loved how fucking wrecked she looked, and when she stuttered out a choked “Yes– sir. M’so fucking close–” he immediately moved his hand where she needed him most. His two fingers rubbed circles over her clit, falling into a rhythm that had her whining and whimpering against his chest. “Yeahhh, baby,” he praised her. “That’s my good fucking girl. I got you, babe– shit. C’mon, honey.”
“Oh,” she gasped. “Steve! I’m– close, gonna come! Can I, please?”
“Yeah, that’s right, Y/N. Soak my fucking dick with that pretty pussy of yours. Lemme hear it, baby,” Steve was almost at the tipping point himself. How couldn’t he be, with her pretty form writhing against him in pleasure? Her gasps were getting more high-pitched, and he could feel her walls fluttering around him, so he kept his fingers moving quickly over her sensitive bud.
“Steve! Oh, m’coming, Steve!” Her head was tossed back on his shoulder, eyes screwed tightly shut, lost in the feeling of him. “Fuckkkk– so… good!” she panted, her cheek pressed into his chest. Her cunt clenched and squeezed around his dick, and it was all too much for Steve. Between her sighs of pleasure and the milky white ring forming around the base of his dick, he couldn't hold back a second longer.
“Fuckkk, baby! Shit– babe, you’re so– fuckin’ good… for me,” Steve was having trouble stringing coherent thoughts together, but he did his best to remind her just how fucking amazing she was. Fucking her through both their highs, he babbled filthy praises in her ear– first clutching her tight to his chest, and then slowly laying her down on her stomach. Once he was sure he wouldn’t hurt or startle her, he slipped out, still earning a little whimper from Y/N. She always hated the transition from full to empty-feeling.
He rolled off to her side, pressing a gentle kiss to her bare shoulder. She blinked sleepily at him, and he brushed her sweaty hair away from her face with the gentlest of touches. “You’re so fucking amazing, sweet girl. Squirted n’everything. You did so, so good for me.”
Y/N smiled at his praise and nuzzled into him. She looked about two seconds away from a dead sleep, so Steve found the towel he’d laid down to protect his bed and kissed her cheeks to keep her awake a little longer, “Hey, hey, hey, let me get you cleaned up right quick before you sleep, alright? C’mon, honey.” She whined and protested, but eventually let him carry her into his bathroom. He set her down on the toilet because “y’know you gotta get all that yucky stuff outta you, baby,” and wet a washcloth to clean off her tear-stained and mascara-streaked cheeks.
Her forehead tilted onto his shoulder as he crouched beside her to wipe her face. “Aw, baby, I know you’re tired. All finished so we can go to bed?” She nodded bleary-eyed and stood up to flush and wash her hands. Steve didn’t miss the tremble in her legs. He smirked to himself, but scooped her up when she was done and carried her to the bed.
“Okay, princess. Here we are,” Steve laid her down and fixed her pillows the way she liked them, making sure she was tucked in under the sheets before stripping the top comforter off the bed. “Gotta wash that tomorrow, cause making my girl feel good gets a little messy, hm?” Y/N smiled softly, eyes already closed, and Steve grabbed her favorite blanket from where he kept it for her. He spread it over the top of the bed before slipping under the sheets beside her.
He pulled her into his chest, sighed contently, and let sleep wash over them both.
here’s my eddie fic if you’re an eddie stan!
masterlist // AO3
a/n: thank you very much to my lovely betas, @writercole @huffle-pissed @evergreencowboy who read this bravely, since it's the first thing i've written in like 3 months jksjksjs
For Steddie Week Day 1: Hunger / Pining / Somebody to Love by Queen @steddie-week
Eddie is avoiding Steve to try to get over his crush, Steve thinks Eddie hates him, and Robin is suffering
The door swings open as Steve arrives for his shift. Eddie knocks his hand on the counter twice. "That's my cue to leave." He clearly means to say it quietly enough that Steve won’t hear him, but Robin doesn’t think Eddie’s ever heard of an inside voice and she can see by the way Steve’s face falls that he definitely heard.
Robin rolls her eyes but doesn't protest as Eddie makes his way towards the exit, trying to look casual and completely failing to do so. She watches as Steve tries to start a conversation, and Eddie makes a half-hearted excuse about being late for band practice and speedwalks out of the store.
Steve looks so dejected Robin is pretty sure even his hair droops a little. It would be tragic if it weren't so funny—or maybe it's the other way around, she really hasn't decided yet. Steve slumps his way over and lets himself behind the counter, pulling his vest on before he trudges over with his head on the counter.
"He hates me," Steve mutters.
"What?"
"Eddie—he hates me," Steve says. "Do you know why? Did I do something?"
"He doesn't hate you," Robin says. She really honestly cannot believe that either of them are actually this stupid.
Steve sits up to stare at her incredulously, and oh no, this was a lot easier when she couldn't see his pathetic kicked puppy expression. "Then why is he avoiding me?"
And because Robin has never been great at keeping her mouth shut and because she really, really doesn't like seeing her friend this miserable, she blurts out, "He has a crush."
Steve blinks at her for several long moments where Robin screams internally because she just betrayed Eddie's trust and also because Steve does not look as happy as she’d expected, and she was so sure she was right about this and that he would be happy and—
"On who?" Steve asks. He's still got the kicked puppy look, and it might have actually gotten worse?
How could this happen to us? Steve's droopy hair seems to be saying. Was I not pretty enough? Fluffy enough?
"Uh." Robin wracks her brain, trying to figure out what she should do here because she shouldn't actually tell Steve, but also she has a feeling lying would really not help the situation. "I really shouldn't be getting involved in this," she tries. "You could, like, ask him, maybe?"
Steve sighs with all the tragedy of, like, a pining heroine in a Bronte novel, and Robin really doesn't understand how he'd managed to convince so many people he was cool for so many years. "How am I supposed to do that if he avoids me all the time?"
Robin really, really doesn't know what to tell him because, like, he has a point and it’s not like she can come out and say why Eddie has been avoiding him, but she would very much like her friends to be happy. Part of her wants to encourage him to go and talk to Eddie but she’s worried that might make things worse, somehow, since the chances of either of them admitting to their actual feelings seems vanishingly small. "Maybe just give him some time?"
"Time to do what, though?" Steve frowns. "Is he hanging out with his crush right now?"
"I'm not sure?"
Steve taps his fingers on the counter. "So, you're saying he's not avoiding me specifically? He's just trying to find a way to, like, ask his crush out or something?"
"Or something," Robin agrees. Honestly, how is this boy so clueless?
"Maybe I can be his wingman?" Steve suggests in a tone that implies he would very much like to do basically anything other than that. "Then I could hang out with him, at least..."
Jesus Christ. "Yeah, that might be good."
Steve nods. "Alright. I can do that. I can help him with his crush."
"I bet you can," Robin mutters.
"Hm?"
"Just, like, get to work dingus. Enough obsessing over Eddie."
"I'm not obsessing over Eddie," Steve protests. Robin just raises her eyebrows and waits for Steve to admit defeat. "Alright, fine, maybe a little."
