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scorpireads · 9 months

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delicate - m. murdock

a/n: hi everyone :) it's been a while since i posted here but i am back with a fic on my latest hyperfixation! hopefully you all enjoy it and i appreciate any feedback you have on this little passion piece :) warnings: slight nsfw (no real smut but making out, teasing, etc) below the cutt, slight power dynamic because matt is readers boss, afab reader with no specific characterstics, shy!reader, matt being a tease, suggestive fluff ! lmk if i missed any! word count: 1228 now playing: delicate by taylor swift “is it cool that I said all that? / is it chill that you’re in my head?’

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Every time you look up, it’s like he’s already looking at you—Every time.

It’s honestly beginning to creep you out, and you’ve been meaning to bring it up with him privately, really, you swear every time you find yourself alone with him, you want to discuss it. Except every time you want to, he’s kissing you before you can find the words.

Matt Murdock cannot get enough of your lips, and he’s starting to worry he might have to check himself into rehab, pray, something, anything, to stop his growing addiction to you.

Like right now— Foggy was on lunch with Marci, eating peacefully in his office. Karen had run out to investigate a possible lead on a case the firm had just picked up. When Matt had called you into his office, you, half distracted with the papers that were in your hands, didn’t think of the possibility of ulterior motives on the man’s part.

He closed the door behind you as you kept reading the papers, muttering something about how you knew that a break in the case was quickly approaching, before turning to him. And he’s just looking at you.

“Everything okay there?” You ask, the papers landing on his desk, as he hums, a playful smirk on his lips.

“Just thinking about how beautiful you are, sweetheart.” He charms, and you just scoff, your throat drying, heart racing, face flushing.

“You don’t even know what I look like.” You defend, leaning against his desk. He hums, slowly approaching you, maybe even stalking you, wanting to make sure you won’t run off if he gets too close. He gets close enough to you where you almost want to run away, just as he fears you will. It’s not that you don’t adore the proximity, it’s just that Matt has a way of making you nervous, even shy. Which was not like you at all—Sure, you were never particularly popular in school, but everyone knew you and you were liked. When you got the job at Nelson, Murdock & Page, Karen and Foggy became friends of yours instantly, your wit drawing them in like a moth to a flame.

But the man with the red glasses had made you nervous.

It was as if he knew it too, despite his lack of vision, because he was cocky about it. And holy shit, if that didn’t make you want him more. So, when he finally kissed you last month, in the back of Josie’s dingy dive bar, it was almost impossible to come up for air. And he only chuckled when he heard your shaky breath, telling you to relax as he began to press kisses along your jaw, cheek and neck.

You haven’t come up for air since.

He finally stopped moving when he was just in front of you, before wrapping his arms around your waist, hoisting you into his desk. Then, his hands traveled down to your thighs, humming at the soft feeling of your skin, radiating this nervous heat about you. He stepped between your legs, hands never leaving your thighs, and brought his forehead to yours.

You quietly, a little in awe of him, reached up, removing his glasses from his face, to admire his pretty brown eyes.

The papers on his desk have been long since forgotten.

“You’re right, sweetheart, I don’t. But maybe you could tell me.” He said, taking your hands in his.

You let out a nervous giggle, and it made him grin.

“This is funny to you? I’m trying to romance my girl, and you’re laughing?” That has you laughing again, and he lets out a chuckle to accompany it.

My girl, he had said.

“I’m sorry,” You started, “You just make me so damn nervous. I’m not used to this.” You explain, and he lets out a sympathetic hum.

“Mm, I know, baby. But you’ve still got to tell me what you look like.” He says softly.

You exhale, taking his hands and bringing them up to your face. First, you bring his left hand to your hair, letting him play with the ends of it. You tell him the color and let him feel the texture and length of it for himself. Then both hands come back to your face and cup your cheeks.

“Your cheeks are very warm... Am I making you shy?” He asks, that teasing tone lingering in the question.

You scoff softly at him, before you bring his right pointer finger to your nose, running it along the shape of it, so he can imagine it well. “This is my nose.” Then you close your eyes, and bring his fingertips up to your eyes, describing the color of them for him before adding, “I use these for looking at my very hot boss, who has every idea of the effect he has on me.” You grin.

“Sounds like a dick.” He quips, his fingers landing on your cheeks again.

“Mm, sometimes.” You joke back. Then, you guide his fingertips towards your lips, “And these are my lips... You know all too well what they can do.” At your teasing, it’s his turn to exhale shakily.

“Do you know how badly I want you when you say things like that, sweetheart?” He asks, and you make a noise of faux confusion. It makes him chuckle—not in the same lighthearted way as before, though, there’s something darker about it now.

Not that you have much time to process that, because suddenly he’s kissing you, his hands back on your thighs, and you react quickly, wrapping your arms around his neck, bringing him close. When he breaks the kiss for air, just for a moment, it’s torture, enough to have you grab his tie and pull him in for another, and another.

It’s been a while since you’ve come up for air, remember?

After a few more minutes of kissing, you with all his passion he might save for other facets of his life, Matt’s hands travel up your thighs, pushing your skirt up, and he pulls away, a whine coming from your lips.

“Sh, sh, sh... Easy, sweetheart. Gotta breath remember?” He says soft, and you hum in acknowledgement. “Good. Good girl for me... Isn’t that right?” And you just hum again, but he tuts in disapproval. “Gotta hear you say it for me, sweet girl.”

“Yeah...” You finally say, “Always wanna be your best girl.” You manage out. It makes him smile, and he steps away, taking your hand and leading you off the desk. He pulls your skirt back down, and you fix your hair, before grabbing his hand. He looks at you quizzically, before you start to fix his tie.

He grins when he realizes and presses a kiss to your forehead, before telling you gently, in the quiet solitude of his office, where no one can hear you and no one is any wiser to what you were just doing, “Be a good girl for me for the rest of the day, and I’ll take such good care of you when we get home. Can you do that for me, sweetheart?”

It’s almost too much for you, but you manage out a small, “Of course, honey.”

He’s still smiling when he says, “That’s my girl.” Before kissing your head again, and opening the door, beginning your countdown to when you finally get back to his apartment.

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scorpireads · 9 months

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PLAY DATE- P.B PARKER

Pairing: Peter Parker x Innocent!Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Summary: you’ve had a crush on peter for quite time now, and when he shows up for your guys weekly study session, he walks on something he probably… shouldn’t have.

Warnings: pillow riding, innocence/ corruption kink, pet names, smut implied, peter fucks readers mouth with his fingers, swearing, masturbation

Note: this is so self indulgent. peter pls be my chem partner!1!1! the readers experience with chem relates to my own, as in freshman year i broke a bunsen burner and nearly set the school in fire on top of almost frying my eyebrows off, and the fire department got called. not my brightest moment! it still haunts me all these years later. ANYWHO this was inspired by the song play date by melanie martinez <3 as always, enjoy!

-claire bear

It was adorable- truly.

The way you looked at Peter.

Your small, shy little smiles and your little waves to him in the halls made his heart flutter. You had always been extra sweet to him, ever since the two of you were partnered together for chemistry.

Can I sit here? That sweet, quiet voice was still music to his ears. Peter was a whizz at chemistry, there was no doubt about it.

You on the other hand, not so much. It’s not that you were bad at it for say, you just got distracted easily. Instead of mixing the right chemicals, or measuring anything, you’d often throw stuff over a bunsen burner and call it your “special potion”, looking up at him with those doe eyes and a smile.

It never got dangerous, because Peter was always there to supervise, often teasing you while he helped clean up your messes.

The tic-tac-toe matches in your notebook turned into little notes and smiley faces during lectures. Because the two of you were partners, you often had group projects. Peter would always come over to your house, waving hello to your mom before trudging up the stairs to meet your face adorned with a wistful smile, pen and homework in hand.

It was always safer in your room, as Peter would joke because there were no chemicals or open flames. You’d often respond to this with a playful slap of your notebook, giggling away to his jokes instead of getting any actual work done.

You drove Peter insane and you didn’t even realise it.

The flirtatious little jokes, your sweet smile you always had plastered on your face whenever you saw him and the outfits you wore drove him mad.

Especially the outfits.

Your style came straight out of a comic book, and he adored it. You often wore a white button-down with a short skirt, knee-high socks and Mary Janes to complete it. Every day he had to resist the urge to slid his hand under the lab bench and stroke your inner thigh and play with the little bows that sat upon your socks, Every day he had to fight the urge to slip his hand up your skirt when you had to bend down to get the safely goggles from the bottom cabinet. And every day he had to resist the urge to palm himself whenever you walked in the room, that damn blush tinted across your cheeks.

He wondered if you’d be flustered like you were when raising your hand to answer a question if he was holding your head into that pretty pink pillow that was on your bed as he fucked you so hard you cried.

Peter tried so hard to think innocent thoughts when you were around, but he just couldn’t.

You were so innocent it made him painfully hard, whenever someone would make a dirty joke and you’d tilt your head in confusion instead of laughing. He shouldn’t feel this way towards you, he shouldn’t want to corrupt you so badly.

But he couldn’t get you off his mind.

You were like a drug, something he craved relentlessly.

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Like a buyer getting his fix, he stood outside your house again, not able to stay away. In his defence, the two of you did have a project to work on. But he was here earlier than normal.

No cars were in the driveway. Only your bike lay propped up by the closed garage, the only indicator that you were home. Shrugging, he set his skateboard by the door, kicking lightly. No answer.

He knocked again. Knock knock knock! No answer. He opened the door a tad, glancing around at the empty foyer.

Slipping inside, he took off his shoes and decided to head up to your room, the one place he knew in this house like the back of his hand. There was no Mrs. Y/L/N to wave to this afternoon, so he continued his trek up the wooden stairs.

Then he stopped.

There was a muffled noise coming from behind a door, he realised. Your door.

He slowly crept up the stairs, attempting to make out your muffled noises. Gently, he pushed open the door to poke his head inside, to make sure you were okay and that nothing was wrong.

That’s when he saw it.

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You didn’t mean for Peter to see you this way.

You didn’t mean for him to see you humping the pillow and gripping it like it was your lifeline as you slid your panties over the fabric, emitting tingles on your clothed core. It just felt so good.

A small wet patch had formed on the pink satin case, and you had thought nothing of it, just focusing on how good you felt. You didn’t care about your stuffed teddy bear Mr. Snuggles watching you judgingly.

All you could think about was Peter, so much so you couldn’t help a moan of his name as you continued to ride the pillow. Not even bothering to change out of your school uniform, you allowed the friction of the fabric to spread the tingles, giving you a sense of euphoria.

Little “uhs uhs” escaped your parted lips as the dampness between your thighs began to grow- and that’s when you saw him. Peter stood at the doorway, eyes wide and in shock.

Immediately, your cheeks became heated, and you scrambled off the pillow in a hurry, frantic and afraid. “Peter I am so sorry-” you spat out, anxiety filling your tone as he slipped in your room and shut the door quietly behind him.

“Shhhh princess. It’s okay. Don’t get shy.” he murmured, stepping closer to your quivering frame. Peter towered over you as he let his schoolbag slump to the ground, reaching his hand up to cup your chin, stroking his thumb on your lower lip.

“It just appears somebody needed to get off hmm?” You nodded frantically, at a loss for words. You melted into his touch like butter, his soft gentle caresses making you go soft.

“ Needy lil thing. I’m here now baby don’t worry.” he cooed, eyes soft and warm. His gaze was so loving you felt your body go taut, and you were overwhelmed with the feeling of him. Your lips wrapped around his thumb, and you sucked on it like you often did your own when you were overwhelmed or confused.

Peter’s eyes darkened a shade, a coy smirk appearing on his face at your sudden actions. “ So pretty for me. Do you think you can finish the mess you started baby? Give me a show?” You let go of his thumb with a pop, a string of saliva attached to it from your plump lips.

“Yes Peter.” you compiled, wanting to do anything this man asked of you. The way he looked right now, dark chocolate hair tousled and messy, his eyes wide and lust filled, lips parted and eager… you’d jump off a cliff if he asked you to.

A squeal escaped your lips as his hands snaked down to grip your thighs to pick you up, lifting you with ease as he set you back on the bed with your wet stained pillow. He sat behind you as you straddled it once more, catching sight of the two of you in your vanity mirror.

“That’s where you’re going to look at me while I help you okay? I’ll make you feel so good I promise.”

“It tingles so bad Pete.” you whined as his hands rested on your hips, beginning to set the pace for you to grind against the pillow again. “I know baby. I’ll take all the tingles away pretty girl. Can you tell me what you were thinking about before I got here?” he pressed, hands starting to rub little circles on your hips as you moved.

“ I was thinking about you- Oh!” you cried as he shifted the pillow, the friction against your tingling clit making you squirm. “ What about me princess?” he pressed, smirking as he saw the wet patch get larger and larger with each roll of your hips through the mirror.

“ Was thinking about how pretty you are.”

“ Well isn’t that adorable.” he cooed gently, lifting you up slightly to bounce on the pillow. Moans and whines continued to escape your lips as he guided you against the fabric, your core on fire. Peter’s gaze narrowed in on your tits bouncing through the reflection, just begging to be free from the white cotton draped across them.

“ Wanna see your pretty lil tits after this baby, wanna fuck em with my cock.” he growled, glossy eyes meeting yours. “Peter it- uh-uh- it tinglessss- so ba-d ohh god!” You were a whining blubbering mess at this point, unable to think a coherent thought.

All you could think of was Peter, and how kind he was being to you right now, helping the tingles go away. You’d give him anything he wanted after this, striving to make him happy. This was exactly how he wanted you, blissed out and unable to think. Your mouth was hanging open, the pleasure too much.

Two fingers soon filled it, slowly sliding in and out of you as you stuck your tongue out to allow him access. Gagging noises filled the room as he spurred you on, praising you of how you were his good little girl, his good little toy.

Salvia trickled down your chin, your juices seeping down to the little pink bows that adorned your socks. “You gonna cum for me baby?” You nodded the best you could with his fingers in your mouth and he grinned, dimples appearing on his cheeks. “Cum for me silly lil thing.” he cooed lightly. You came with a cry, juices squirting everywhere.

You felt as if you were on cloud nine, your legs shaking and eyes rolling back to the whites as his hand left your mouth, slowly wrapping around your throat gently. “God fuck princess.” he moaned at the sight of you, your juices seeping through the pillow and coating your thighs.

“ Now I wanna see those pretty little tits. I got plans for em baby.”

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peter parker tag list ( (let me know if you want to be removed and or added, or if i forgot to add you!): @phildunphyisadilf , @sonnydevils , @reyathens @ph1na @lassmich1 @myrapottah @s0upisgood @ayleehweasleyobrien @littlepeanut03 @moo-b1tch @gaiaparker @zaddygrinch8756 @lilostif16 @withahintofpestoaioli @froggyy06 @fangirling-galore @lup1nsl0v4 @fearlessritz29

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scorpireads · 9 months

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do you ever watch videos of youtubers reading their own crappy wattpad x self insert fics and think to yourself man i would love to explain the sold to one direction trope to these kids, it would absolutely break them

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scorpireads · 9 months

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oh a little update, entering 5th semester rn and fuck it all i want to burn the whole shit idk if I'm strong enough for this

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scorpireads · 9 months

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sometimes i wonder about marriages.

like, what do you have to do to make other people not to get tired of you?

how do you know if the other's feeling secure in the relationship?

do you, do you stay because you love them or do you stay because you respect them?

or do you just stay because of the children?

could love really lasts that long?

and for those older people(couple) who (i know) can't stand with their own spouses do you just... stay there? in the marriage? because i just kinda know my grandparents are very fucking different than the other amd it just made me wonder, do they stick together bc they love each other or is it out of obligation? or is it just respect? I can't get over how my nan always yells or give snide remarks towards him. I hate her, she's always so negative.

I just dont get how this works, and what if it's my bloody time to marry but i just can't get.... through whatever the fuck it is?

#scorpi.talks #kinda long overdue #overthinking again bc #who doesn't?

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scorpireads · 9 months

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TURVIIIIII HI OMFG I'M SO SORRY I KNOW I'M SO LATE BUT I'M SO PROUD FR YOU DESERVE IT ALL

Ok so something weird happened. I saw 4 days ago that I was reaching to 600 followers and I will have time to plan celebration but boom

I reached 700 followers. Crazy how quickly the numbers grew man. Crazy. Ok I know there are slow updates from my side but I'll post the fics soon ok. Thank you to the people who sent me asks for being patient with me. I love you guys.

Special thanks to: @fieldofsecretss @milivanili99 @moon-witchs-world @misschanadlerbong @scorpireads @sageskisses444 @igncrantbliss @wzrd-wheezes

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scorpireads · 10 months

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hi, life got away from me a bit.

how are you all?

#scorpi.talks #the bitch is back #and is currently trying to write shits #on her dusty ol docs #damn #how are y’all?

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scorpireads · 11 months

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why do i feel like this term is especially hard.

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scorpireads · 1 year

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I keep seeing posts about mother's day and Steve Harrington, and it's all in good fun, I don't wanna ruin anyone's fun times. But also, Steve is actually a teenage boy whose parents are never around and has sort of adopted this weird little nerd boy as his little brother. This weird little nerd boy has a mom who loves him very much and supports his interests and worries about his well-being constantly. Somehow, Steve has gotten included in this and he's got this woman fussing over him, if he's eating enough, if he's dressed warmly enough for the weather and please let her know how much he needs for gas because he takes Dustin places all the time.

And then mother's day is coming up and Dustin wants to get her the perfect present but has no idea what to get her because his mom is focused on him all the time and never really mentions anything she wants or needs so he's low-key panicking when he finally gets a hold of Steve and asks him for help. So Steve and him start going to all sorts of shops trying to find something good, something worthy of Claudia Henderson.

Steve helps him buy an extravagant bouquet because moms and flowers right? Dustin finds a bowtie collar for Mews2. They find a cat themed mother's day card. They order a whole fancy carry out meal from Enzo's. He helps Dustin bake a homemade chocolate cake.

Steve puts on the finishing touches to the dining table while Dustin coaxes Mews2 into the bowtie collar. Then it's almost time for Claudia to come home from her shift look idk what she does for a living in canon but I always imagined her as a hospital nurse and hospitals don't close for holidays or weekends so Steve checks Dustin's hair one last time because Dustin wants to look nice for his mom's nice mother's day dinner. Then Steve is grabbing his keys and saying goodbye.

"Dude, where are you going?" Dustin asks, genuinely baffled.

"Uh, home? You're all set up, and your mom's home soon," Steve responds like, duh, where else would he be going right.

"Yeah, so you should clean up! I can't be the only one looking good for Mom."

Steve blinks. "Man, your mom's not gonna want me getting in the way of her day with you."

"what are you talking about? Have you MET Mom?"

And before they could continue arguing, Claudia walks through the door. She sees the dining table laid out all nice, and her furry boy in a bowtie, her little boy with his hair done, and her other bigger boy looking kind of caught out and blushing.

"oh, my boys!" She says. "Did you do all of this for me?"

"Dustin actually--" Steve tries to give Dustin, her actual kid, the credit because he's not about to steal his little bud's thunder but Claudia scoops them both into her arms and peppers them with slightly damp kisses.

"you two didn't have to!" She says. "Oh, let me go get changed from these scrubs. You both sit down, I'll be just a minute. I'm so lucky to have the two sweetest boys in the world." Mews2 takes that moment to meow loudly. "sorry, THREE boys, I didn't forget you, baby."

She shuffles hurriedly to her room, leaving behind a smugly grinning Dustin and a frozen, baffled Steve.

"you heard her," Dustin says, pushing Steve towards an open chair. "We can't disappoint her on mother's day!"

And that's how Steve ended up spending mother's day in a warm home with a loving family, instead of spending the evening alone trying to get a call through to Mrs Harrington with little success.

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scorpireads · 1 year

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It starts with the wavy haired brunette he'd spent half of junior year crushing on. It's been almost 3 years since then, but Samatha Birch is still as pretty as Keith remembers. Her bright blue eyes slant up ever so slightly, button nose dotted here and there with freckles. There's still that honeylemon scent clinging to her clothes.

They've spoken only once, because she'd dropped her lipstick in their shared history class and tapped his shoulder when it rolled under his seat.

"Grab my lipstick for me love?"

Keith could smell the watermelon from her breath at the time, a product of the gum she'd spent the entire class chewing. He still smells it now, as she taps her nails impatiently on the counter, eyebrows furrowed in annoyance while he tries his best to be quick with her tapes.

Keith's dropped them once already, a slight tremor in his hands due to the intensity of those bright eyes. And as he watches one slip past his slippery fingers yet again, he knows he isn't getting away with it this time.

"Seriously Kevin? Is it that hard to told onto something?"

Keith knows she can see his name tag, that the wrong name was entirely on purpose. But he apologizes anyways, hands her the tapes without any other fumbles.

"Sorry. Um' you look nice today Sam."

Keith's not sure why he says that, but it slips out on its own. She's clearly in a bad mood and girls like that aren't supposed to give guys like him the time of day. He knows it was the wrong move the moment her bubblegum lipgloss wraps around a sneer.

"Ew."

Is all Samatha Birch says before turning to leave.

And really Keith shouldn't be surprised, shouldn't even be upset. It's not like graduating high school means there aren't social laws in place for these kind of interactions. Still the sound of the store bell feels a little heavy on his eardrums as he watches the door close behind Sam's back.

"Huh. What a bitch."

The words are a perfect reflection of Keith's subconscious, a thought hidden behind the resignation high school has drilled into him. But Steve fucking Harrington who was well above all the wounds of that hellhole, naturally has no issue voicing it.

Keith lets irritation settle on his brows, pretends he doesn't feel a sliver of thanks for hearing someone say what he'd been thinking. Instead he turns around, takes one look at Steve– the type of guy Samantha definitely would not consider disgusting.

Steve doesn't look smug like Keith expects, instead his brows are pinched, lips downturned ever so slightly as he glares at the door. He supposes it should feel nice to have someone on his side at the moment, but Keith doesn't really want the King's pity. Not when he knows for a fact that the guy has probably done worse.

"You gonna just stand there or rewind those tapes?" He bites, and leaves before Steve can say anything else.

It's pretty fucking frustrating that Steve Harrington is so hard to hate.

Seriously, Keith knows that he's a spiteful guy, that finding someone irritating shouldn't be all this difficult for him. Especially someone who stood around with a metaphorical crown while his goonies went around terrorizing helpless teens. He'd kinda wondered what on earth had gotten Robin of all people–equally cynical if their brief band friendship had meant anything–to hang aroung with a guy like that. He's sorta still waiting for that duo to blow up spectacularly so he can pull up with an 'aHA, called it.'

But Steve Harrington isn't terrible. Terribly uncultured yes, but not terrible. He takes most of his shift with Robin so Keith rarely has to be stuck alone with him. But on the rare days they're together, all the guy does is lean against the counter and browse through some of their displayed magazines when there's nothing to do. They don't talk a lot and those shifts are often slower, but when they do it goes a lot better than whatever the hell Keith expects.

It's still relatively impersonal, and Keith has enough ingrained anger to still get very snappy after Steve Harrington gets a new number added to his collection, or another name for his friday night calendar.

It's unfair as hell, but he still can't properly hate the guy. Not when said guy mumbles the snarkiest and admittedly funniest shit under his breath after dealing with difficult customers. Not when his brows dip in intense concentration whenever Keith pointedly retells the difference between Star wars and Star trek.

And definitely not when Samantha comes back a few weeks later, twirling her wavy hair flirtatiously around her fingers, and Steve calls her a different name each time he addresses her. Each name is more off-target than the last, and when Steve waves her out with a 'Come again Marlene' Sam looks positively livid as she slams the door shut on her way out.

It should suck completely, in fact he should hate the idea of Steve-the hair-Harrigton doing anything for his sake. But when Steve pulls away from the counter with Sam's returns and sends a stupid looking wink in his direction, Keith actually snorts.

It irritating that he can't hate Steve Harrington, but even worse that he actually starts to like the guy.

It's why he does the unthinkable and actually lets Steve Harrington talk him into this bullshit.

"No no no" Steve Harrington is saying as he climbs back over the counter.

"I said look unbothered, not constipated. And lean on your left dude, that's your better side."

To demonstrate, Steve braces his right side against the counter, body angled slightly so he's still facing forward a bit. True to his instructions, his body is relaxes, eyelids drooping with boredom for a second before snapping back into focus.

"See? Like that. Except I get to lean on my right cause that's my better angle." He pushes himself off and vaults over the counter again, leaving the space open for Keith.

"Okay let's go again. And this time try to sound like you aren't being held at gun point okay?"

Steve Harrington backs up to the door, takes in a breath and walks back to the counter. There's a smile on his face when he leans forward on the counter, voice a higher register as he tucks a strand of hair behind his ear.

"Hey Keith."

It's so so stupid. This whole thing.

And Keith doesn't know if he wants to laugh or cry. Because Steve Harrington of all people, is pretending to be a chick, just so Keith can practice talking to the girl he's sort of crushing hard on right now. It's a combination of hilarious, pathetic and bizzare. But apprently this is his life now.

So Keith coughs, leans on his left side like Steve had showed him, tries to look bored and shifts his free hand through his significantly less luscious hair.

"Sup Edith." He says and cringes internally at how dumb he sounds. "Um. What can I do for you?"

Steve stares at him, eyes piercing like he's scoring Keith on some mental rubric, which is probably exactly what he's doing. A moment passes then he nods.

"Needs some work but we're making progress. Okay next thing."

Then he's talking about the best ways to slip in compliments and Keith honestly kinda just wants to die.

But it's not the worst thing. Goofing off with Harrington like this.

By some twisted miracle, Edith does say yes to a movie. She's the kind of girl who keeps her eyes down, mumbles a lot under her breath but actually has a lot of great opinions. She's not shy per say, just doesn't enjoy expending energy on people (her words). She's super cute too. At first Keith thinks she just doesn't know it, but Steve had shaken his head when he mentioned the theory.

"Nah she definitely knows it dude. She's just mastered the art of using it without coming off as vain."

And when Keith had told him he could learn from her, he'd gotten one of those noogies he absolutely despised. Threatened to fire Steve when he'd let out a cheeky 'awee so you think I'm cute.'

Needless to say, he gets a date and sort of kinda has Steve Harrington to thank for it.

Which is why he's doing this. Whatever the fuck this is. Payment for the date? An act of kindness? Keith doesn't know. But he's got two tickets to some show/competition in Indianapolis that his cousin had pawned off of someone before deciding he didn't want it anymore. It's for some band that Keith knows for a fact Steve doesn't listen to.

But he's pretty sure its the kinda shit Eddie Munson would like.

And yeah, he also doesn't know how the fuck Eddie Munson got wrapped up in all this, but the heavens must really love Steve Harrington cause it's honestly kind of funny how hard these miscallaneous as fuck tickets are to get on a regular day.

He's not sure how Steve Harrington made friends with the town freak but at this point Keith knows not to think too hard about who the guy spends time with. Between Robin and all those kids always trying to sneak out with R rated movies, he knows the guy flows with a totally different crowd now (he's not adding himself to that list just yet because denial is comfortable and he has some pride!)

But what Keith does know is that ever since that Dustin kid dragged Eddie Munson into the store to engage in a 3 way bickering session with Steve, the guy just kept coming back. And it's fine or whatever, Keith doesn't care about employees getting a little off task so long as what needs to be done is done and customers aren't forgotten. It's all just a regular case of friends bothering each other at work.

At least it was.

Before Steve Harringon helped him score a date.

Keith is kind of shocked he even picked up on it, he'd thrown that entire lesson out the window the moment it had happened, had stuttered his whole way into the first date even.

But he remembers. The store is empty and he's trying to think of a good place for a third date with Edith, and that's when the store bell rings and Steve's eyes snap up from his magazine. It's like watching a flashback, replaying movements from all those days back in crisp detail.

Steve leans on his right–his good side–schools his impression into something bored, flips a page on the magazine before running his hands through his hair.

And Keith can already imagine whatever pretty babe must have walked in. Christina maybe? with her straight dark hair and full lips. Or maybe Evelyn since she's got two overdue tapes to return and could probably take a modelling gig if she wanted to.

He's turning to verify his theory, but doesn't even get halfway before he hears the telltale greeting of none other than Eddie Munson.

"Good afternoon Stevie~"

And well– shit.

How does one even react to that?

Keith doesn't think he's like‐ against it or anything- can't imagine changing his entire view of someone just because they're into different things. It's just– how many fucking surprises can Steve Harrington possibly have. It's like they're stacked under that hair of his, popping out every once in a while to slap at Keith's worldviews and laugh at his face for it.

He probably isn't supposed to know, but now he does, and Keith isn't sure what to do with the information.

And then his cousin places those two tickets into his palm and he remembers Eddie saying something about Metal and music for his soul– the guy has too many monologues so it's hard to keep up, Keith definitely doesnt try to anyways.

So here he is now, thumb brushing over the sides of the tickets as he wonders if this is even going to do anything. If Eddie's even into Steve like that.

But it's better than nothing right?

The guy did sort of–barely–scored him a date. It's the least he could do.

"Hey Harrington." Keith says, coughs awkwardly cause he hasn't really called Steve that in a while. Steve seems to find it odd too judging from the quirk of his eyebrows.

"Harrington? What, am I in trouble?" He jokes and Keith rolls his eyes, feels relieved that Steve is at least still a little annoying.

"You know anyone that would be into a huh.." He squints at the tickets. "band battle?"

Steve frows slightly, tucks his magazine away and comes closer. "A what?"

Keith shrugs and shows him the tickets. "My cousin gave these to me. For some metal competition in Indianapolis next week. Parently it's a pretty small venue so the tickets are limited as fuck." He's not sure why he's pitching it so hard when Steve is clearly going to take them.

"Both new and rising bands like audition for it or something then hash it out on stage and for some reason people want to watch that."

But Steve isn't even listening. Keith can see the gears turning in his head as he scans the tickets over and over again.

"Shit dude is it okay if you give them away?" He says eventually, even though Keith can see the way his fingers are gripping tightly onto the slips.

"Like if they're so limited."

Keith shrugs again, thinks he's paid off all his years thinking the worst of Steve Harrington with this gesture– especially since not all of it was undeserved.

"Yeah it's whatever. My cousin didn't want it and it's not my thing so you can have it. It's that or the trash man."

It seems to put Steve's hesitation at ease, and it's clear that the dude is trying very hard not to smile– and failing tragically by the way.

"Shit okay" He says.

"Thank's man."

Steve Harrington spends the rest of his shift with the dopiest look on his face, and it's honestly only then that Keith realized that it's been ages since he saw the guy end a day with a new number or a friday night plan.

And isn't that something. Cause damn. Exactly how long has Steve Harrington been crushing on Eddie Munson?

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