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unfinishedslurs · 1 year

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gay bar (steddie)

“Well, well, well,” says a voice from behind. “Steeeeeeve Harrington. I must be dreaming.”

Steve turns around to see a guy, dressed in black and chains. Rings decorating his fingers, studs in his ears, curly hair pulled back in a ponytail. He’s hot, yeah, but something about him has Steve squinting, trying to figure out why he looks so familiar.

“I know you from somewhere,” he says, pointing out the obvious. The guy knows his name.

The not-a-stranger snorts. “Of course you don’t remember me. Why would the likes of King Steve stoop to—“

As soon as the nickname leaves his mouth, Steve’s brain lights up. “Munson!” He exclaims, snapping his fingers. “You used to climb on the lunch tables to give speeches.”

It was so obnoxious, too. The kind of thing that had him and Robin reminiscing late at night, celebrating some of the weirder shit about Hawkins that didn’t come from monsters, or Russians, or government conspiracy. Remember that one asshole? Yeah, he stepped on my lunch one time!

Condolences to Robin’s pb&j. She never sat at that table again.

Munson’s whole face turns pink. “Seriously? That’s what you remember?”

“It was pretty fucking memorable, dude. Like, gross, doesn’t this guy know not to put his feet where people eat? Dustin thought you were so cool for it too. I had to nip that in the bud before he started imitating you or some shit.”

“Oh,” he says, voice gone flat. “Because God forbid some poor kid try to immolate the freak.”

Steve gives him his bitchiest, most deadpan stare. “Feet,” he says slowly. “Nasty, fifteen year old boy feet. On my kitchen table. He almost slipped and cracked his skull, and I would have sent you the hospital bill.”

He had to get creative to make him stop, too. Stood there, hands on his hips, and made Dustin tell him exactly how many germs he thought were on his shoes. Then when he tried to do it barefoot, decided the only course of action was to stuff Dustin’s abandoned sock in his mouth and ask if he wanted that shit with every meal. Erica still has the photos.

Munson has the decency to look embarrassed, face flooding an even brighter red that wouldn’t be out of place in a tomato patch. “What are you even doing here, Harrington?”

What does he think Steve’s doing here? It’s a fucking gay bar, it’s pretty self explanatory. “My friend is here somewhere,” he says, waving out at the crowd of people. “She’s going through a dry spell, so…”

“Right,” Munson says. Steve squints at him. Does he look disappointed?

Eh. Doesn’t matter.

“You gave my kids the best freshman year of their nerdy little lives,” he tells him, because he knows Dustin would want him to. Plus, the guy was Mike’s gay awakening. He should probably get some credit. “So thanks for that.”

He lights up. “Yeah! How was Hellfire in my absence?”

“I had to hear them bitch and moan for months about how it ‘wasn’t the same,’ but it’s doing pretty all right. Erica Sinclair is running it now.”

“Erica Sinclair…” Munson mutters, snapping his fingers. “Lucas Sinclair’s little sister? Lady Applejack?” He beams when Steve nods. “She kicked ass. Best finish to a campaign my entire high school career. How’s Lucas, anyway? And the rest of the runts.”

“He’s doing great,” Steve says. “College basketball at Yale. Pretty sure he’s dying under the workload, but that’s what you get for majoring in physics. Dustin’s at MIT, and Mike’s taking a gap year.”

He whistles lowly. “Yeesh, I don’t blame him. How about Byers?”

“Which one?”

“Zombie boy.” Steve’s hackles raise, but Munson just grins. “God, that nickname was badass.”

“How do you even know about that?”

Munson taps the side of his nose. “A magician never reveals his secrets. Besides, all it took for you to remember me was calling you by your high school nickname.”

“That wasn’t my nickname.” Steve rolls his eyes. “Literally three people ever actually called me that, and you were one of them.”

He has a feeling it was Tommy who started it, bitter and vicious. Told himself Steve was self possessed, high and mighty, above it all. That’s why he left his old friends behind. Not because he was in love, or because he wanted to be better. No, King Steve just sits alone in his castle, looking down on the peasants with contempt.

Billy must have taken his angry ramblings and run with them. After all, what better way to get a start in a new town than declaring yourself royalty? Never mind that Steve hadn’t cared about anything like that for almost a year by then.

Munson had just been a drama-loving asshole.

“That can’t be right.”

“I stopped being popular in junior year. Why the hell would anyone call a sophomore King?” Steve points out.

“You were Prom King.”

“Again, in junior year. Pickings were slim. Who else would it have been? Tommy?” He has to laugh.

Luckily, Munson takes the hint and swerves the conversation into new territory. “You know, I always figured you’d be homophobic.”

Steve snorts. “What, and get kicked out for nothing?”

Munson stares at him, and Steve furrows his brow, looking into his glass like it will have the answer to why the hell he said that to this guy he barely knows. He just decided he wasn’t going to spill all his daddy issues to a near-stranger in a dingy bar, dammit. Is he already on his fifth drink?

Actually, this might be his sixth. That tracks.

“What?”

“My dad caught me kissing a boy,” he says. If he’s going to give Munson his life story, he might as well commit. “Can you believe that boy ruined my life in three different ways? Two of them didn’t even have anything to do with the gay thing.”

Maybe four ways, if you accounted for the way he broke his goddamn heart, but everyone and their mother saw that coming a mile away. Even Steve. Especially Steve.

No offense to Jonathan. None of those things were really his fault. Or actually life ruining, but it sure fucking felt like it at the time.

He should give him a call soon, actually, see how he and Argyle are doing. He misses the guy. Maybe he and Robin should save up for a visit to Cali. Get Nancy on it. They could see San Francisco while they were there, that’d be cool. Apparently it was the queer capital of the country.

He’s thinking about asking the bartender for a napkin and a pen to write down the plans he’s forming when Munson speaks up again. Steve honestly forgot he was here.

“I thought you said you were here for a friend.”

What?” Steve blinks, confused, and then catches on. “Yeah, to get her laid. I’m not in the mood right now.”

Munson cocks an eyebrow. “Wearing that? Could’ve fooled me.”

Steve looks down at his Springsteen T-Shirt that Robin cropped, and picks at the frayed hem of his shorts. Okay, yeah, they’re on the skimpy side, but in his defense it’s summer and even if he’s not cruising Steve likes being looked at. “Yeah, yeah. What about you? Here for anything in particular?”

“Just to talk to some pretty boys,” Munson says, leaning on the bar to flag down the bartender. Steve smirks, reaching out a hand to tug at the hanky in his back pocket. Pinned, damn.

Munson whirls around, a flush starting to crawl onto his ears.

“Wearing that?” Steve echos snarkily. “Could’ve fooled me.”

He swears that for a minute Munson’s eyes darken.

He’s almost tempted to follow through, high school reputation be damned, when someone crashes into his side and nearly sends him careening.

“Steeeeeve,” Robin yells happily into his ear. “This is Bernie, she’s gonna take me home, see you la—oh, hi!” She says, noticing Munson. “I know you from somewhere.”

“Eddie Munson,” Munson greets. “Steve and I went to high school together.”

“Munson! That’s it, you climbed on tables and had shit music. I’m Robin. Okay, I’ll call the apartment and leave a message when we get there. Bernie’s waiting on me, it’s-nice-to-meet-you-bye!” Just like that, she’s gone.

Munson’s mouth has dropped open. “You told her I had shit music?” He demands. “Wait, you talked about me?”

“She went to school with us, dumbass,” he says, as if he can talk. He still barely remembers her as more than a vague, glowering figure in his peripheral. “It’s not my fault you blasted your screamy music for everyone in the parking lot. Such a fucking headache, God.”

Munson turns his nose up. “Sorry for having offended your jock sensibilities.”

“Oh, I don’t play anymore,” he says, and knocks on his head. “Concussions, yanno. Apparently brain damage will fuck you up. Who knew?”

“What, like the fight you had with Byers? He did you that bad?”

“He did me just fine,” Steve blurts out, before he can stop himself. Munson chokes. “Shit, sorry, I’m kind of a horny drunk.” Weird thing to say, Steve. “Also, I cannot stress enough how much I needed to be punched in the face. It was a monumental moment for me, you know. Started me on the path for changing my entire worldview. Plus, he was my first guy crush.” He swirls his empty glass, lost in thought, before brightening up. “I should call him!”

Munson is staring at him, mouth opening and closing like a fish.

“What?”

“You’re drunk.”

“Well, yeah. Duh.”

“I should probably stop you from booty-calling the guy who punched you in the face.”

Steve wrinkles his nose. “It wouldn’t be a booty-call,” he says. “He and Argyle are happy together, man. I’m not gonna ruin that.”

“Oh, so you’d call him because…”

“I call him all the time,” Steve says, confused as to why this is such a big deal. “We’re friends.”

“Jonathan!” He yells happily into the pay phone. Munson is standing to the side, looking on in annoyance. Whatever, it’s not like Steve asked him to do this. “Jonathan, man, how are you?”

“…Steve?”

“Yeah!”

“It’s like…” he hears something clatter in the background, like Jonathan is looking for something, “two in the morning there. You okay?”

“I’m doing great!” He exclaims. “How about you? It’s been ages, man, I miss you.”

“This is so fucking weird,” Munson whispers behind him. Steve ignores him.

“Are you drunk?”

“No,” he says. “Well, maybe a little. Do you not miss me too?” He pouts, and Jonathan sighs loud enough he hears it over the phone.

“I just talked to you yesterday.”

Steve frowns. “Yesterday? That can’t be right, it’s been, like, forever. Oh, hey, have you heard from Nance lately? How’s your mom? I love your mom, she’s so fucking cool. Does she know I think she’s cool? How’s Will? It’s been so long, is he taller than me yet? How’s Argyle doing with his degree? I miss you guys.”

“We miss you too, Steve.”

“Awww, Byers, getting soppy on me? Gross, man.”

“You literally just—yeah, okay. Are you alone?”

“Nah, I’ve got this guy with me, he’s walking me home. Oh! Dude, do you remember Munson?”

“Munson?”

“Yeah, Eddie Munson! From high school! The one who used to climb on tables and shit, remember him?”

“Jesus Christ,” Munson groans. “Please let that die.”

“No one is dying,” Steve informs him seriously, and turns back to the phone. Munson sighs.

“Wasn’t he a drug dealer?”

“Yes! Yeah, drug dealer Munson! Did you ever buy from him?” He turns to where Munson is looking around furtively. “Did Jonathan ever buy from you?”

“How about we not talk about this here,” Munson says through gritted teeth. Steve sighs and turns back to the phone.

“Never mind, he says he doesn’t want to talk about that. Not like we can judge him, but whatever. Maybe the guy’s turned into a prude—“

“Okay, give me that.” Munson wrestles the phone out of his hand, and Steve whines at him. “Hey, Byers,” Munson says. “Yeah, it’s Eddie. Or Munson. Whatever. Listen, I’m getting kind of sick of standing here watching Harrington slobber all over the receiver, can he call you tomorrow? What? No, I don’t sell anymore—yeah, total bummer, whatever. Listen, I’ll get him home safe—no, I’m not going to serial murder him. He’s gonna be fine, he’ll call you tomorrow—Nancy Wheeler? Like that girl he dated? Didn’t you—shoot me? Jesus, okay! I’m not gonna kill the guy, Christ. He’s gonna be fine, oh my God. He’ll call you tomorrow. Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Yeah, okay. Bye.” He slams the phone into its holder with more than a little contempt.

“Hey!” Steve protests. “You didn’t let me say bye.”

“You can call him tomorrow and apologize,” Munson says. “Now c’mon, Harrington. I’ve been tasked with getting you home safe, and if I fail, apparently Nancy fucking Wheeler is going to shoot me in the balls.”

“Oh, yeah, she’s really hot when she does that,” Steve says fondly, and Munson splutters.

“What, does Wheeler just go around shooting people? Does she even have a gun?”

“Of course Nancy has a gun.” Steve frowns. It was one of the sure things in the universe at this point. The sky is blue, Hawkins is fucked up, and Nancy Wheeler has a gun. “And she doesn’t shoot people, stupid. Well, she shot at Billy, but he deserved it.”

“Billy?” Munson mutters, starting to usher Steve in the direction of home. “Who the fuck is Billy?”

“He was trying to kill her first!” Steve defends. “I hit him with a car before he could, so she was okay.”

“Okay, yeah, sure. Why wouldn’t you hit some guy with a car?

“It wasn’t some guy,” Steve says. “It was Billy. He was, like, possessed or some shit. Oh, and he beat me up. Total psycho. And that was before the melted flesh monster.”

Munson stops and stares at him. “You know what, sure. Demonic possession. Yeah, okay. Some guy named Billy kicked your ass—wait, are you talking about Billy Hargrove?”

Steve lights up. “Yeah! You remember that? That’s one of the concussions I was talking about. I gotta wear glasses 'cuza that shit. Man, fuck that guy.”

“Didn’t he die?”

“Oh, yeah,” Steve frowns down at the ground. “Shit, I’m, like, speaking ill of the dead, aren’t I? Max wouldn't like that. Unfuck him, or whatever.”

“You wanna come up?” He asks. “For old times sake?”

Munson stares at him like it’s the craziest thing he’s said all evening. “‘Old times’ was your asshole friends calling me a satan worshiper and pushing me around in hallways, Harrington.”

“I know.” He grins. If he was sober he’d definitely feel worse about that, but as it is he’s pretty single minded. “Don't you kind of want to make me cry about it?”

Deer in headlights isn’t usually a good look, but Munson’s got the eyes to make it work. Or Steve is drunk. Either way, it’s kinda cute.

“You’re drunk,” he finally says, stumbling over the words a little. If Steve pays close attention and ignores most of reality, it almost sounds like he’s trying to convince both of them. “You’re so incredibly drunk.”

“I’m not that drunk.” He totally is.

“I just had to supervise you calling Jonathan Byers so you didn’t say something you’d regret in the morning.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Steve asks, offended. “I love Jonathan! I tell him all the time. Just because I said he ruined my life—“

“That was him?”

“Did I not say that? Huh. Whatever. Point is, I’m not that drunk.”

“You’re definitely drunk,” Munson says. “I’m not—yeah, no. I’m not coming up.”

“Damn.” Steve shrugs, not too put out about it. It’s a bummer, sure, but he handles rejection like a champ. Just ask Robin. “Worth a shot. See you ‘round, Munson.”

“Don’t kill me,” Steve says.

“Oh, god, did you punch him?”

“No, I, uh.” Steve rubs the bridge of his nose. “I think I tried to fuck him.”

He has to hold the phone away from his face so Dustin’s screeching doesn’t break his eardrums.

“Your exes are weirdly protective of you,” Munson says blandly. “Also, didn’t they date?”

“Yeah,” Steve shrugs, not exactly eager to start spilling his life story again now that he’s sober. Munson doesn’t need to know more about his dating history than he already does. “We’re all a little weird about each other, sorry.”

“Weird about your exes,” he hums. “No wonder you’re single.”

“Oh, fuck you. It’s not like that.”

He raises an eyebrow. “No?”

“Are you always this nosy?” Steve asks, a little waspish.

“Absolutely,” Munson replies without hesitation. “I’d say sorry, but I’m not. When did you even date him?”

“Dude.”

Munson just cocks an expectant eyebrow, hip resting against the bar. He can’t imagine why someone would be so interested in the romantic lives of their old high school classmates. It’s not like Steve is about to ask what was going on between him and Chrissy Cunningham.

“Well, Harrington?”

“First grade,” Steve answers, deadpan. He grins when Munson chokes. “Nah, it was actually after he and Nancy broke up. Fall of ‘86.”

Arms squeeze him from behind, and Robin slides into view, leaving one hand wrapped pointedly around Steve’s waist. She gets clingy when she thinks someone is bothering him, or when she’s just on the side of drunk that she gets possessive. She told him, embarrassed and hungover, that it’s because she registers someone he’s getting along with as infringing on “her Steve time.” Steve thinks it’s hilarious and kind of sweet, an obvious lesbian trying to pretend he’s her date. Especially because he gets the same way when he’s tipsy and feels like he doesn’t have enough of her attention, so she can't yell at him for being a cockblock. Cuntblock. Whatever the lesbians call it.

He wonders what category she thinks Eddie is. Of guy, that is. Not block-anything.

He'd actually be pretty damn happy if the guy miraculously changed his mind and decided to sit on his cock instead.

“What’s going on here?” She asks, almost cattily. He loves when Robin gets bitchy. It brings him back to their Scoops days, except he gets to see it turned on someone else.

“I’m telling Eddie my life story,” Steve says blithely.

“Ugh. Who would want that?”

Eddie grins. “I’m curious about the adventures of a former king.” He dips his head in a bow, waving his hand in a flourish. “I don’t know if you remember me from last time, I’m Eddie—“

“Munson, I know. You stepped on my lunch in junior year.”

Eddie turns beet red in record time.

“Aww, Robbie,” Steve almost coos. “Leave him alone. I wanted to be the one who made him blush like that.”

“It’s not my fault your boy’s easy.”

“Not my boy, clearly,” he mutters under his breath. “And if he were easy, I’d have gotten fucked by now.”

Eddie’s mouth drops open with a choked little sound. Whoops. Steve forgot volume control again.

Robin takes one look at Eddie’s face and bursts into cackles.

“He was asking about,” he waved a hand in the air, “the whole Nancy-Jonathan thing.”

Her eyebrows jut up. “You told him about the threesome?”

“The what?”

Steve sighs. “No, Robin. I did not tell him about the threesome.”

“…oops.”

“When?” Eddie demands.

Robin gives him the evil eye. “Why are you being weird about this? It’s not gonna make him fuck you.”

Steve wisely keeps his mouth shut.

Eddie does not. “Your boy here already asked,” he smirks, leaning closer. “I said no.”

Then, as an added punch to his ego, he twirls a strand of Steve’s hair around his finger and tugs slightly. Steve’s too stunned to protest.

Robin watches the exchange. “Oh, no thank you,” she says. “Nope. I’m out. I don’t want to see whatever this is. Ugh, stop making me hear about your sex life.”

Hypocrite. “We have thin walls, Buckley,” Steve reminds her. He turns to Eddie and stage whispers, “She likes her girls loud.”

“Steve!”

“You do!”

“Oh, because you’re so quiet,” she snaps, smacking him. “How many times have I had to bang on the wall because you couldn’t keep it down? You wanna talk about loud? I know more about you than I ever wanted to.”

His mouth drops open in mortification. “You know it’s rude to be mean to the man who told you how to eat out,” he hisses.

“I’m not dying without fucking Eddie Munson,” he declares. “I mean, his high school nickname was literally ‘The Freak.’ He’s got to be good in bed, right?”

“I think that was mostly because everyone thought he was communing with the Devil or something.”

“Maybe the Devil gave him sex magic.”

“Of course he thinks I’m cute.”

“I do?”

“Do you not?” Steve turns to him, widening his eyes in the same pout that always has Robin throwing something at his face, or the kids reluctantly agreeing to do what he wants. He’s found it’s useful for guys too, especially if he ducks his head to seem smaller and looks through his eyelashes. Makes them imagine him looking like that on his knees.

Munson is no exception. He melts faster than Steve can say gotcha. “You’re very cute, Harrington,” he purrs, and Robin snorts into her drink.

“You’re a weak, weak man, Eddie Munson,” she tells a blushing Eddie. Then she kicks Steve. “Stop bringing out the ‘fuck me’ eyes when I’m around, I’ll gag.”

“You could leave.”

She gasps, affronted, and kicks him harder.

“So you would fuck me if I wasn’t drunk?”

“Uh…” he looks everywhere but Steve’s face, which is just rude. He has a very nice face. He’s been called dreamy before.

Which made Robin laugh so hard she fell off the couch when he told her, but he’ll take the lesbian’s opinion with a grain of salt.

He makes his way onto the dance floor. He’s not a particularly good dancer, but he shakes his ass like he means it. Gets up close with a guy, stares at Eddie the whole time. Keeping eye contact as the guy puts his hands on his hips.

Look, he means to say. This could be you. You could lose your chance if you’re not careful.

From the burning in Eddie’s eyes, he gets the message.

The message is a bunch of bullshit. It’s been over four months, he’s in too deep to go fuck off with someone else now. Still, he enjoys the way Eddie’s hands flex on his thighs, like he had to stop himself from reaching out.

The thing is, Steve’s not an asshole. He can take a hint. No means no, and all that jazz. If Eddie really didn’t want him, he’d fuck right off and find someone who did. He even started to.

Except Eddie pouted up a storm when he flirted with someone else. Got even clingier when Steve tried to back off. At this point, he’s accepted that Eddie does want to fuck him, and maybe even be more (no one flirts with someone as long as they’ve been doing without wanting something like a relationship out of it. At least, he hopes there’s something more on the horizon), but has some weird hang up about Steve being even a little bit buzzed when it happens. Even though they only ever see each other at this fucking bar.

The problem is Steve has no idea when Eddie will be at the bar. He’ll stay sober one night, hoping to see him, and then go home alone only for next time to be when he sees telltale curls and a wide smile. It’s driving him up the wall.

Robin has been similarly affected.

“It’s been six months,” she growls as Steve looks eagerly around. “Six fucking months of you two dancing around in the worlds most annoying mating ritual. I’m going to kill both of you.”

“We’re not that bad,” he says absently.

“You don’t even have his phone number. It’s pathetic. I swear to God, if you see him again and don’t get laid I’m reviving the scoops board. I will go out and buy a whiteboard to keep track of all the times you strike out with a man who used to walk on tables. He stepped on my lunch, Steve. Do I need to keep bringing up the fact he stepped on my delicious, nutritious PB&J? I can’t believe that’s the guy you decide to be obsessed with, that’s so fucking embarrassing for you.”

“Embarrassing? You mean like your crush on my ex girlfriend?”

She screeches wordlessly, pulling her keychain off her belt loop and attacking him with it.

Naturally, that’s how Eddie finds them.

“I swear you guys get weirder every time I see you.”

Steve grins guilelessly at him, holding a flailing Robin in a headlock.

“Eddie! Hey! It’s been a minute.” He hasn’t been able to come in a month, and it’s been longer since he’s seen him. It’s honestly one of the deciding factors on whether it’s a passing fancy or a full blown crush. He still went to sleep every night thinking about Eddie. It didn’t even have to be about sex.

Although maybe not sleeping with anyone else for half a year should have tipped him off sooner.

“Sure has, big boy. I was starting to think you were getting sick of me.” It’s a joke, but Steve catches an undercurrent of insecurity.

“That’d make my life easier,” Robin snorts. She finally wiggles her way out of his hold. “I saw Arty somewhere around here, I’m gonna see if I can crash at her place tonight.” She levels Eddie with a look. “He hasn’t had anything to drink. If you don’t put him out of his misery, I will. And it won’t be the good kind. It will be the bad kind. With bad screams. Lots of screaming, and someone will call the pigs, and I’ll be arrested and jailed for life. Do you want me to go to jail, Munson?”

Eddie shakes his head dumbly.

“Good! Then do something about it.” She slaps Steve’s back, a mocking echo of his jock days. “Go get ‘em, slugger!”

With that, she’s gone, disappearing into the crowd.

“She is,” Steve remarks with amusement, “the worst wingman on planet Earth. Mars too, probably.”

“I dunno, I think it might be working.”

“I’m not doing anything without a condom,” he says, eyes narrowed like he’s waiting for an argument.

“Me neither,” Steve agrees. “Robin has, like, this big fear of diseases. Totally got me with it. She pulled out the library books, those pictures were fucking disgusting. Shit showed up in my dreams, man. Neither of us do anything without protection.”

“I’m going to be totally honest with you, because I haven’t been and it’s starting to eat at me,” Eddie says, hovering above Steve.

Steve wrinkles his nose. “What is it? Are you a spy or something? Are you Russian? Do you have superpowers? Is your name not actually Eddie?” He pauses. “Oh, God, you’re not even Eddie Munson, are you? I’m just some asshole who’s been calling you by my old classmates name and you were too embarrassed to correct me. Shit, we made so much fun of you for walking on tables too—“

“What?” Eddie covers his mouth, expression hovering between amused and baffled. “What the fuck, why would I go along with that? No, Jesus, I’m Eddie Munson. Moved to Hawkins when I was eleven, took senior year three times, walked on the fucking tables, could you let that go?” He moves the hand covering Steve’s mouth to play with his hair, looking annoyed for a minute before it smoothes to trepidation. “No, I, uh, I just felt like I needed to tell you that I used to have a hate-boner for you in high school. Like, I used to jack it to the thought of kicking your ass and making a mess outta you. In more ways than one.”

Steve stares.

“Also, that’s kind of why I approached you in the bar in the first place,” Eddie blabbers on. “And then you said you were just there for a friend, and I was disappointed but it’s whatever, yanno? And then then you told me about your dad, and threw my expectations to the fucking wolves, and then you asked me to come up to your apartment except you were drunk and you probably didn’t mean it. But then the next time I saw you, you kept flirting with me, which you were not supposed to do, and I kept pretending that wasn’t the reason I even talked to you in the first place, and, uh, yeah.” He smiles nervously. “Surprise?”

“I mean, not really.”

“You’re such an asshole, fuck off. At least pretend to be shocked.”

“It’s not my fault you stare at my legs all the time,” Steve says, affronted. “I know I didn’t do too good in school, but I’m not dumb enough to miss that. Like, hello, my eyes are up here.”

Eddie lets his arms give out, flopping on top of Steve heavily. Steve wheezes. “Am I really that obvious?” He whines into his shoulder.

“You got sad and pouty when I even looked at another guy.”

“You could’ve fucked him,” he mumbles. “The guy you were dancing with. It wasn’t any of my business. I’m a big boy, I can deal.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t want to fuck him,” Steve says. “I wanted to fuck you. Can we go back to that please?”

“Thought I was fucking you.”

“Someone’s getting fucked or Robin will kill both of us. I’d like to live tomorrow morning. And not have to deal with any more of her teasing for having no game.”

“You have unfortunate amounts of game,” Eddie sighs, tracing the side of Steve’s neck. It tickles. “It’s kind of embarrassing for me.”

“Yeah, yeah, are we using those condoms or not, Moodkiller?”

“Oh, I’m the mood killer?”

“Yes,” Steve says matter of factly, and pulls him in for a kiss before he can protest.

#gay bar au #steddie #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson #steve harrington #robin buckley #featuring robin as the worlds worst wingman #i'm never not going to bully eddie for walking on those tables #'why does everyone here hate me🥺' mf it's bc you keep putting ur nasty ass shoes where people eat #i've said it before and i'll say it again. someone should have yanked on his leg and made him faceplant. he would have deserved it #we stay billy bashing 💪#in this au the byers didn't move to california #jonathan still goes to school there tho #why? bc he and argyle are soulmates and time and space moved for them to make sense next question #i need u to know eddie does not have sex magic and steve isn't actually as smooth as eddie thinks. they r just obsessed with each other #that one person who was in my notes truthing ab a stoncy threesome. i was excited when i saw that bc i had this written hope u see it <3

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bakubunny · 8 months

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a kindhearted hero

mdni: 18+ content. yes, i do check. you will be blocked.

a/n: here’s the full one shot of the opening excerpt i posted recently. special thanks to my lovely mutual, @shinsos-puppet/@arlerts-angel for sparking the idea. i’ve never written eijirou at length in anything, so i really hope i did our sweet, best boy justice. 💜 - bunny

pairing: pro hero!kirishima eijirou x plus size fem!reader

wc: 4.7k

summary: red riot sees you, a civilian, lookin’ cute with your friends and dynamight gets tired of hearing him gush about it. he takes matters into his own hands by being kirishima’s (asshole) wingman. kiri x reader fluff and eventual smut ensues.

tags: pro hero!kirishima; fem!reader; plus size!reader; aged up characters; fluff and smut; mention of alcohol; explicit consent; lots of pet names, pretty girl, baby, babygirl, angel, sweetheart, sweetie, princess, good girl; praise; encouragement; daddy as title (a few lines towards the end); teasing; grinding; nipple play (f receiving); fingering (f receiving); oral sex (f receiving); rough sex; multiple orgasms; pronebone; unprotected sex with a stranger (it’s not even discussed); creampie; kiri is a nervous sweetheart for the first half; kiri is taller now and has bulked tf up; kiri has a huge dick and i’m not sorry; kiri loves soft bodies, i don’t make the rules; kiri gets possessive; strength/muscle kink; manhandling; size kink if you squint a little

excerpt:

Kirishima stopped. He studied your face.

“What?” you asked.

His brow furrowed. “You don’t believe me, do you?”

“Huh?”

He took your face in his hands. “I’ve been telling you all night how I feel about you, but you don’t believe me.”

You gave a nervous look. He wasn’t wrong.

“Oh, you beautiful girl. I’m gonna fuck that right out of you.”

ok now buckle up buttercup and enjoy the ride. 😘

A scowling blond man walked over from a nook nearby in the club. The closer you looked, it was no less than Dynamight, the number two hero in all of Japan, dressed casually. What the heck was he doing staring you down, a civilian nobody?

“Hey, princess, y’see the guy with the shitty red hair?” he said, pointing in the direction he came from. “‘S Kirishima. He thinks you’re gorgeous, but he’s too much of a wuss to come talk to you. Will you let him buy you a drink so he’ll shut his damn mouth?”

There was only one redhead with “shitty hair” you’d ever heard of in the news in relation to Dynamight, but it couldn’t be that one, right?…

“I-I’m sorry, what?” you said.

You smiled, holding back a look of disbelief, but he must have caught it. He sighed loudly and turned to look the other way. It was dark enough that you couldn’t quite make out the man in the distance.

“Oi! Shitty hair! Get’cher ass over here, she’s not buyin’ it,” he shouted with an irritated look.

A tall, broad-shouldered redhead got up and began moving towards your table, head tucked down and rubbing his neck. He looked up and met your eyes, smiling with cheeks almost as red as his hair. It was that redhead - Red Riot, to be exact. Your eyes went wide and your face flushed.

“Oh no, I’m sorry, I think you’re at the wrong table,” you said, flustered.

This has to be a joke, right? He can’t be serious. There’s no way someone like him could be interested in you. You’d heard and seen in interviews that Dynamight wasn’t exactly nice, but he wouldn’t pull some sort of childish stunt like this as an adult, would he? As a pro hero?

“No, I’m not at the wrong fucking table,” he sneered, crossing his arms.

Red Riot approached the both of you. “Sorry about him, he can be a bit of an ass. I don’t-”

“Shut the fuck up. I’m doing you a favor,” Dynamight said, cutting him off. He turned to you. “This is my friend Kirishima, also known as Red Riot. You should give him a chance.”

Dynamight turned back to Kirishima. “You’re fucking welcome. Play nice,” he said, giving him a clap on the shoulder before walking away.

You both froze awkwardly for a moment before breaking into quiet laughter. He looked you in the eye with a smile.

“I uh…. I hope that’s okay, though,” he said nervously. “You’re absolutely stunning. I’d love to buy you a drink.”

You blushed, smiling in return. “I’d like that a lot.”

You glanced to the two friends you came with that night for approval. The look they had was what you’d expected; one that said, “Are you crazy?? Go!” but they grinned nonetheless as you stood from the seat you were at.

******

Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe it was the dimness of the atmosphere. Maybe it was the fact that you were falling hard for this guy. But you’d swear Kirishima looked even prettier in real life than anything you’d ever seen or imagined. Shaggy hair, clean and pulled back into a messy bun instead of his signature spiked style, stray pieces falling around his face at the front. Crimson eyes that were bright with joy and crinkled at the corners when he laughed. Slightly tanned skin from spending almost a decade on the field as a pro hero. Laugh lines that had barely begun to settle in from sun exposure and his brilliant, sharp toothed smile that rarely seemed to fade. Though it was only the two of you in your little corner, he had the ability to light up a room just by being there.

And it was hard to believe that he was here, sitting knee to knee with you. Showering you with compliments. Listening intently as he learned the details of your civilian life. Asking questions about your pets, excitedly gushing over pictures, and showing interest in your career. Brushing his thigh against yours. Leaning in to hear what you had to say. Turning faintly pink when you grasped his hand with a laugh before quickly pulling away with a blush of your own. Reaching for your hand and holding it under the table…. Yours was small in his massive hand, and despite being well used and calloused, they were still so soft. (He claimed his friend Ashido once told him he “needed to moisturize his scratchy skin,” and found that it helped him heal, so he stuck with it.)

Kirishima had this innate way of making you feel protected, and you’re pretty sure it had nothing to do with his hero status. All while making the apex of your thighs hot and your cheeks warm.

Okay, so you had to admit, you’d secretly had a little bit of a crush on Red Riot - now Kiri, he’d insisted - before you met him tonight. He was handsome, strong, kind, and humble in any media you’d ever seen him in. Who could blame you for swooning a little inside every time you saw him? (No one. That’s who.) The best part was that none of it was fake. He was honest, sincere, and you could see it in his eyes.

Minutes turned into hours. You’d both switched to drinking water long ago. The number of people in the club had started to dwindle. Yet you were still wrapped up in conversation.

He’d assured your friends that you’d get home safely - a hero’s promise - when they stopped by to say they were heading out. Gave Bakugou (was that what Kiri called him?) a smile and nod of acknowledgement as he and a few other hero faces you recognized from the media moved towards the door. The hero with pink skin and a brightly colored dress gave an excited wave goodbye as they passed. Come to think of it, you were surprised he wasn’t with her, another hero. A pretty hero. But you noticed Bakugou’s hand guiding her by the small of her back, keeping her close as they worked their way through the crowd. You shoved those thoughts down as Kirishima gave your hand a gentle squeeze.

“Listen, I know it’s getting late, but I don’t want this to end,” Kirishima said. “I promised I would get you home safely, and I’ll do that. Buuuut if you want, we can go back to my place and watch a movie.”

He caught the flicker of hesitation on your face, silently wondering if this had been his goal all along, but not opposed to the idea.

His face grew red, eyes wide at what he might be suggesting. “I did mean just a movie! You’re really beautiful and nice to talk to, that’s all I meant. I’m not looking for a fling. Please, don’t get the wrong impression,” he rambled quickly. “B-but I do want that with you! I want you, I just-”

“Kiri. Slow down. It’s okay.” You gave a reassuring smile.

His shoulders relaxed slightly and he smiled as he tucked his head, rubbing his neck. You noticed the way his nervous habit highlighted his massive bicep and shoulder.

“I think that sounds great. I’d love to spend more time with you… no matter what that looks like,” you said, heat rushing to your face as you caught his glance again.

His eyes held a glimmer of hope as he looked down at you. “Really?”

“As long as you can promise me I’ll get a proper date someday soon,” you replied.

“You got it, pretty girl. Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” he said, grinning.

There was a shift in the silence you shared. Kirishima hesitated, a question in his eyes.

“Can I?…”

“Yes.”

His free hand reached for your face and pulled you in eagerly for a kiss, full of heat and tenderness as your lips met. It knocked the air out of you as your fingers tightened around the hand entwined in your own beneath the table. It was gentle, slow, his thumb stroking your cheek for a moment. Heat built rapidly between your legs, almost throbbing at his touch.

When the kiss broke, you stared into those gorgeous red eyes knowing you were absolutely fucked. This man had you, and there was no way you’d let him go.

******

The door closed with a soft click as you slipped off your shoes. You turned to Kirishima and realized that he was bigger than you’d thought in dim lighting. He was taller, broader, bulkier than the image you’d had in your head.

“So,” you said.

“So,” he repeated.

A shared laugh broke the tension. Kirishima reached for your face with both hands and leaned in to kiss you, pulling the breath right out of your chest again. It was all consuming, the way his hands cradled your face, fingers already tangling in the hair around your neck. His kisses were warm and sweet.

“Come here,” he whispered as he lifted you into his arms.

You let out a small yelp as he did, wrapping yourself around him more to keep from falling than anything else. “What are you doing?”

Kirishima flashed a cheeky grin. “Unless you want me to stop, I’m doing what I want,” he replied, leaning in for another kiss.

It was visceral, how quickly embarrassment and fear flooded your face with heat as you reciprocated. “Y-you don’t - I’m too-”

“Don’t you fucking dare. Don’t even say it.” Kirishima had a sharp look in his eyes.

“But-” you protested.

“Baby, I train six days a week. I save people for a living. I can carry you,” he said, unwavering, a soft smile forming across his lips.

A flash of warmth hit your cheeks again. You buried your face in his shoulder as it hit you just how strong he was. Kirishima chuckled and turned to walk towards what you presumed was his bedroom. His lips met your skin, placing kisses along the side of your neck. You whimpered softly as a shiver slipped down your neck.

“C’mon now, don’t get shy on me,” he teased. “Haven’t even started.”

“Shush you,” you replied.

Every bit of you was growing hotter by the second with Kirishima’s hands on your body and his lips, fucking hell, how did you already feel a little weak? He laid you down on his bed as he leaned back onto his knees. Reverent crimson eyes raked over you in a short sundress, barely riding up to reveal the tops of your thighs.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he said quietly.

You blushed and gave him a smile.

There was a twinge in your stomach. A thread of doubt. One that said, “but I still have clothes on.” You pushed it down.

You pulled Kirishima closer as he drew you in with firm kisses and a gentle suck on your bottom lip. With your legs wrapped around his middle, your hands wandering over his back and shoulders, you were still in disbelief that this was happening. His hand ran down your side as he moaned deeply, gripping the soft flesh of your hip. His lips grew needy as they moved down your neck, finding a spot that made you pant as your head spun.

A groan rumbled in his chest, sending chills over your skin as his hips pushed into yours; your eyes snapped open, your throat caught. Kirishima rolled his body into you again and holy fuck he was huge. You let out a high pitched whine rather than the moan you anticipated. There’s no fucking way this man is real, you thought as he continued, pulling soft moans from your lips. You cursed under your breath.

“Hmm?” he said with a tone that suggested he already knew.

“Jus’ feels good,” you replied.

Kirishima kissed his way back to your lips as he pushed harder into you, a louder moan bubbling out of you as your cunt fluttered under the thin panties you wore and the heat of his cock.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm. Y’so big, Kiri,” you said between kisses.

He paused to look you in the eye. “‘S that okay? Won’t hurt my feelings if you say no, honest. I don’t want you t’be scared.”

“More than okay,” you replied, heat rising to your cheeks. “I like it a lot. ‘S what I was kinda hoping for.”

Kirishima's eyes lit up with a flicker of relief as though you’d sung a tune he’d rarely heard. He kissed you hard. “Fuck, you’re just perfect, aren’t you, angel?”

Another thread tugged at your chest. “He’s saying that to sleep with me.”

You smiled playfully. It didn’t quite reach your eyes. “I dunno about perfect, but that’s very sweet of you.”

Kirishima stopped. He studied your face.

“What?” you asked.

His brow furrowed. “You don’t believe me, do you?”

“Huh?”

He took your face in his hands. “I’ve been telling you all night how I feel about you, but you don’t believe me.”

You gave a nervous look. He wasn’t wrong.

“Oh, you beautiful girl. I’m gonna fuck that right out of you,” he said.

Kirishima crashed his lips into yours, drawing a whimper from your lips. His mouth didn’t leave you for a second as he picked up where you left off, kissing down over your neck and chest, his hands on your ass. He slid your dress up and groaned at the sight.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so fucking soft,” he said, kisses trailing over your stomach. “So pretty. So perfect.”

The heat of his massive hands washed over you as they wandered your body. Kirishima’s fingers dug gently into your flesh. Clothes rapidly began piling onto the floor; his shirt, your dress, his pants, your bra. His hands immediately went for your chest where he scattered kisses on your skin as he groped, moaning softly when his lips took your nipple into his mouth. Your breath grew heavy. You moaned in return as he sucked and licked the swollen bud. The hot ache between your thighs built as he took his time with each one, only encouraged by your whimpering and the way your hips bucked with need. You felt a rush of sensations as Kirishima began grinding his cock into your leg, an empty flutter and a shiver sliding over you. You reached down to relieve your throbbing clit, but he grabbed your wrist.

“Patient girls get what they want. ‘M not done,” he mumbled.

And fuck if that didn’t just make you ache even more. “Kiri, please.…”

Letting go, his hand slid down over your cunt. He gently rubbed and groaned against your skin when your hips pushed into his hand.

“‘S it, pretty girl, show me what you need,” he said.

And you did, moaning and grinding into him. After making quick work of discarding the last of both your clothes, Kirishima opened your legs and cursed. He ran his hands up your thighs, lips not far behind.

Insecurity began to slip away as you saw Kirishima’s cock twitch as it hung, swollen, hard and red at the sight of you. All of him made you hotter - the look in his eye, broad shoulders and thick arms you had been imagining around your legs all night, strong thighs you wished were caging you at the hips, and a heavy cock that had to be as big as your face, so thick you didn’t think you could wrap your hand around it. He was so kind. He looked at you like you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, like you’d hung the stars just for him. And he going to fuck you dumb.

A shiver ran down your spine and you blushed.

“You’re amazing,” Kirishima said.

You thought to respond as his mouth reached your inner thigh and you gasped. He slid a thick finger into your cunt and pumped slowly. Already, you could feel yourself fluttering and weeping around his hand as you moaned. He slipped a second finger in, slightly curled and reaching a tender spot you couldn’t quite get on your own.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous, angel. Don’t stop, I wanna hear your pretty voice,” he said.

Heat rolled over your body. Kirishima sloppily kissed his way around your pussy, never settling where you wanted him.

“Kiri… need you.”

“Yeah? Whatcha need?” he replied with a little smirk.

Your head fell back, letting out a small groan in frustration as he teased.

“Eyes on me,” Kirishima said.

Heat rushed to your face. You locked eyes with him and reached for his head with a soft “please,” guiding him to your clit. He kissed and licked gently, taking it into his mouth. It didn’t take long for intense pleasure to fall over your body. You grabbed hold of his free hand resting on your stomach as the tension in your body built, legs starting to shake.

Kirishima hummed with satisfaction. “Such a sweetheart. C’mon babygirl, you can do it. Jus’ let go. ‘M right here.”

The skill of his mouth pushed you over the edge. His lust-hooded eyes stared into yours as your climax broke with a whining moan. You trembled as it washed over you. He carried you through with his tongue, treating your cunt with care until your body calmed.

“Good girl,” he said.

Your eyes went wide briefly and he smirked. “You like hearing that?”

“Didn’t expect it,” you said.

“Not what I asked.” Kirishima took his hand from you and stroked his cock, covering himself in your cum.

You weren’t sure how, but the tables had turned; now you were the one who was easily flustered while he had every ounce of confidence and a twinkle in his eye.

“Maybe I did a little, yeah,” you said.

“Good. Now tell me, pretty girl, how do you like to be fucked?” he said.

You grabbed a pillow and laid on your stomach with it under your hips and gave your ass a little shake, smiling back at him. “Like this. Come get it.”

“You’re not gonna let me stare into those gorgeous eyes of yours?” he said playfully, lining himself up behind you, rubbing the head of his cock along your folds.

“Maybe next time I’ll ride you. How’s that?” you quipped, peeking his face for a moment as he huffed a laugh and turned pink.

“Y’ready baby? Might hurt but I promise I’ll be gentle.” The heat and thickness of his cock head had you pushing into him as he teased.

“Yes. I can take it, please,” you said.

“You sure? You sound so pretty like this…” he purred.

You blushed. The sound of your wet cunt was obscene and he hadn’t even fucked you yet.

“We can take it easy… go real slow…” he insisted.

“Kiri I swear if you don’t-ohfuckohfuck”

He was already halfway in, pushing deeper as you panted heavily and groaned. Kirishima looked down at you and saw your eyes roll, face laid into the sheets. He pushed himself in fully and you gasped. The slight sting didn’t matter in comparison to the pleasure, goosebumps covering your body.

“Fucking hell Kiri you’re huge and perfect holyshitfucknnngh.”

“Need me to stop already?” His lightly patronizing tone would have been irksome if it weren’t for the fact that you were split wide open and full to the brim with his cock, your pussy clenching hard as he stayed still.

You whipped your head around as far as you could. “Don’t you fucking dare,” you said. It was meant to sound threatening in the same way he had earlier, but it came out desperate and needy. You swallowed hard. “Please.”

You caught him grinning ear to ear as slowly, gently, he started fucking you in long strokes, your moans quickly filling the room. You grabbed another pillow in a vain attempt to muffle the sound. The intensity of the pleasure was overwhelming as your cunt stretched and the sting subsided into bliss.

Kirishima’s hands ran over your ass and up your body as he fucked you, relishing the way your ass moved with him, the way your cunt drew him all the way in over and over as you got wetter. “Fuck you feel so good, angel. Can’t get enough of you. Love watching you take my cock so well. Such a perfect little pussy.”

“Kiri…” you whined, “‘s so good, so fucking good, ‘s perfect.”

Your thoughts were jumbled with the way he had you unraveling with each tender stroke - just enough to feel his hips kissing yours as he pulled you up and into him slightly. The pressure of each thrust against your cunt made you flutter.

“‘N don’t stop after I cum. I can take it,” you said.

You heard a shy laugh behind you. “You like my cock that much, hm?” Kirishima said, leaning down briefly to kiss across your shoulder.

“I do. Y’so fucking big. Feels so good, Kiri. Need you inside me.” Chills ran through you as he hit that deep, sensitive spot behind your cervix that made your feet tingle and your breath stop, orgasm hanging overhead.

“F-fuck, b-baby, right there, don’t stop,” you said. Your mind fell into an empty haze as your legs began to tremble. “I think ‘m c-close.”

“Yeah? Gonna cum for me, princess? Gonna cum on my cock without any help?” he replied.

Your answer was in moans as your back arched and your vision went white. The heat of his hands, his grip tightening on your hips, his encouragement had bliss crashing down over you.

“‘S it, that’s what I like to hear. Let it all out. Cum for me, sweetheart. Make a pretty mess on my cock.” Kirishima moaned as he felt you clench hard around him, watching you come undone for a second time. It was dizzying holding himself back, your cunt like a vice he never wanted to leave. His hips stuttered for a moment, but he continued with a low grunt.

“Such a good girl…” Kirishima said, lacing your skin with kisses as his pace increased.

Your head was spinning with pleasure, sensations radiating up your spine, curling down your legs, trying to process his words fully and failing. “Yes, harder. Fuck me. Please, Kiri… please. Need your cock.”

He groaned. “Y’make it so hard not t’cum with you. Y’know that, angel?” Kirishima grabbed a large fistful of hair at the scalp and pulled gently, lifting your face away from anything that could muffle your moans as his hips collided harder into you, sending electricity over your skin as you panted and let out a cry. “You’re so fucking gorgeous. So soft. So beautiful, every part of you. Y’sound so fucking pretty. Y’feel so damn good, I almost couldn’t stop myself.”

His quiet praise hit you hard and unexpectedly - a wave of heat and tension building in your body, amplified by the grip he had on your hair. The previous one had felt like it hardly passed, but another orgasm was winding itself around your core in anticipation.

“Oh fuck, ‘m sorry, I…mmm.” Your knuckles went white gripping the pillow under your head.

“Hey, hey, no sorry,” he said, his grip falling loose and moving to your side. He could feel how close you were getting with every passing movement, willing his body to hold off once more. “I love it. Y’need to cum again, sweetie?”

“Please,” you replied.

You made movement to reach for your clit a second time, but Kirishima’s hand was quick and found its way there first.

“Nuh uh. ‘M gonna make you cum, baby. You just relax. Can y’do that for me?” he said.

“Mhm.” You nodded dumbly, giving in to his request.

Kirishima’s thick fingertips gently rubbed your swollen clit, a whimper at your throat. Goosebumps trailed across your body as pulled you closer, closer, and over the edge as he fucked you. The lewd sound of your cunt as you came on him drove Kirishima crazy, sweat running down his body. He was drunk on your pussy, fucking you still when sensitivity finally hit.

It was overwhelming but not enough all at once, the feeling of his cock bullying your swollen folds. You reached back to stop him, but he grabbed your wrist, looming over you to put it back where it was.

“Kiri, ‘s too much, please,” you said.

“You can take it, babygirl. Just one more for me, yeah? I know you can do it.” Kirishima’s voice was a mixture of sweet and ragged.

You groaned heavily. “One more,” you repeated. “But c’mere, closer.”

He wrapped himself around you, arms sliding under yours, the burning heat and weight of his body against your back. “Like this?”

“Yes, fuck,” you whined.

You could feel sweat on his chest, the movement of each thrust as he started again, every groan, drunk on the girth and heft of his cock slamming into you, his heavy balls hitting your clit.

Your body began to tremble. “Need t’feel you on me, don’ go, please.”

“Aww, y’really are a little sweetheart, huh?” Kirishima cooed. “Just love bein all wrapped up n safe in my arms while I take care of your pretty pussy.”

“Yes, d-mmmfuck.” You cut yourself off and hid your face.

“‘S okay, angel. You can say it if y’want,” he said gently. “Doesn’ bother me.”

“I can’t,” you said, your cheeks hot.

His voice lowered. “Yes you can. Lemme hear it. Say yes, daddy.”

“Yes, daddy,” you replied weakly.

Kirishima’s thrusts got sloppier as hot, wet kisses hit a tender spot on the crook of your neck. You grabbed and kissed his hand and pushed your hips back to meet his thrusts. He growled into your skin.

“‘S it, baby. That’s my girl. That’s my good fucking girl. My pretty little angel. Take my fucking cock,” he said softly, his breath hot against your ear.

“D-don’ say that,” you slurred, knowing full well that he could hear the way you whimpered and moaned when he did. Knowing he could feel you fluttering erratically around him.

“Why not, hmm?” Kirishima replied. “Y’really think ’m gonna let a pretty little thing like you get away after tonight, lookin’ so perfect, cummin’ all over my cock like this? Beggin’ me not to stop cause y’need more? Bein’ so sweet n lovely that I can’t help but fuck you ‘til you fall apart? ‘Til you know I mean what I say?”

Words failed you as he fucked harder, movements sharper as his orgasm neared. Your head fell forward into the sheets with a loud moan. “N-no.”

“‘S right, princess. ‘M not. ‘M gonna keep you ‘s long ‘s you’ll have me.” Kirishima’s muscles burned from exertion as he spoke, but he didn’t care.

He loved the way your breath went quick and shallow when he found just the right spot that made you tremble, savored the way your moans grew louder and your eyes rolled the harder he went. He got lost in the heat of your breath and the taste of your skin, the perfect way he could rail into you without being gentle or holding back because you needed every bit of him. It made his skin hot, the absolute mess you were making around his cock, fluttering and squeezing him hard enough to lose his damn mind as he moaned into your ear, his grip around your body getting tighter.

“Don’ stop, daddy, please. ‘M close,” you said. It was intoxicating, the way his skin felt against yours, the way each thrust knocked a little bit of the breath out of your lungs as another orgasm drew near. “Cum with me?”

“‘S that what you want, angel? Want me t’cum inside you?” he asked.

“Please, wanna feel you cum,” you said.

Kirishima groaned low in his chest as his need for you took over. His lips and teeth continued to graze your skin with open mouthed kisses as he came, his throbbing cock pushing you over the edge a final time as he fucked you full of cum. You laid together panting until silence took hold.

After a quiet moment, Kirishima pulled out and spread your ass gently, watching his cum trickle down your swollen pussy and thick, soft thighs.

“Fuck, babygirl,” he said. “You’re the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen.”

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manga color edit is mine @bakubunny.