#swimmer eddie munson

[thisapplepielife]

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles December challenge.

Go For Gold

Prompt Day 22: Sports AU | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: None | Tags: Swimming AU, Olympic Trials, Racing, Rivalry, A Dash of Secret Relationship, Eddie & Gareth are BFFs

Eddie steps up onto the block. Rolls his shoulders. His neck. Gareth is two lanes down, in six. Eddie can see him bouncing up and down. Can tell he's nervous. Gareth didn't make the Olympic team at twenty, now he's fighting for a spot at twenty-four.

If Steve's nervous in lane five, between Eddie and Gareth, you'd never know it. Steve's twenty-seven, and has been doing this since he was fifteen. Eddie's Olympic debut came at twenty, but he thinks he was immature, even then. 

Steve has his game face on, his no-nonsense, no-bullshit approach to the sport. You don't bother Steve Harrington once he steps on the deck. It's just not done. Hell, you don't talk to him in the ready room, either. Steve will have his headphones on, serious as shit, not talking to anyone. Not even listening. Zoned out. 

Eddie is the only exception to the rule, and it's a power he doesn't abuse often. He's not trying to break Steve's focus, it's unsportsmanlike. Instead, Eddie will roughhouse with the other guys. The ones that like that to get their blood pumping before a race. 

Eddie is just a little looser. A free spirit, looking for fun. 

Sure, he wants to win medals, but it's not that serious. 

Well, it is that serious, if he's honest. Because Eddie's never trained as hard as he has in the last four years. He wants it. Bad.

For once in their parallel careers, Eddie isn't sure that Steve wants it more than he does. Steve staying in bed, while Eddie drags himself to the pool at the ass-crack of dawn. Eddie isn't sure Steve has anything left to prove. He broke all the records four years ago. 

Their rivalry is stuff of legend. Full of stupid commentary, like: "Without Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson would be the best swimmer of his generation," as if it's that simple. Without chasing Steve, Eddie thinks he might not have pushed this hard. It's a stupid hypothetical. 

This is their third Olympic Trials as number one and two. And you have to stay one and two, if you want to make the Olympic Team. You need to touch the wall first or second, with a crowd of twelve-thousand breathing down your neck every time your head breaks through the water.

They always say first is first, and second is also first, when it comes to Trials. But that's not true. Not really.

Steve Harrington definitely doesn't think so. 

Steve's not at the top of his game. He's hurting. He's getting older. They both are. Eddie's a year older, but hasn't pushed himself quite as hard. Hard, sure. But not to the extent that Steve has, year-over-year. 

Swimming's still fun for Eddie, but he's not sure that's true for Steve. Eddie thinks this might be Steve's last year, his last Olympics, and that hurts to think about. Eddie isn't ready to be done, he's still having fun, but doing it without Steve in the lane next to him seems sad.

When the buzzer sounds, they're launching into the pool, swimming the butterfly, the first leg of the 400 I.M. 

Eddie pulls ahead, but knows it won't last through the butterfly leg. Steve'll catch him, pass him, sure as shit. 

And that's how it goes. 

At the halfway mark, Eddie pops up fifty meters into the backstroke, and glances to his left and Gareth is out ahead of not only him, but Steve, too. The little shit is a helluva backstroker, these days. Steve's a half body length behind the both of them, and that's disconcerting. 

Eddie wants to beat him, absolutely, but he doesn't want Steve to fail, either. It's hard, when two people you love are also competing for a slot you want.

Switching to the breaststroke, Eddie catches Gareth quickly, and by the first turn has pulled ahead of both of them. By almost a body length, heading into the freestyle. Eddie needs that lead if he's gonna stay ahead of Steve to the end.

And he can see Steve closing the gap, but Eddie doesn't think Steve's got enough room to catch him.

And he doesn't. 

They go one-two, and for the first time at an Olympic Trials, Steve's number two.

Eddie hangs onto the lane rope and smiles, chest heaving. Steve swims towards him, also breathing hard, pulling him into a hug. Eddie hugs back, clinging to him.

"You got me," Steve says in his ear, and Eddie laughs. He's well aware they're being filmed, broadcast on live television, so he just claps Steve on the shoulder, laughs, and pulls away. Gareth is swimming under the rope, to get to Eddie, too.

"You did good, kid. You were ahead of us both!" Eddie shouts over the noise, and Gareth smiles. Eddie knew the odds weren't in Gareth's favor here, but Eddie will be right there, cheering him on in his other events. Hoping Gareth still snags a spot.

After their cooldowns, and the rest of the races for the night, they drag themselves back to the hotel. And like always, Steve's his roommate. It's been that way since the beginning. An unlikely duo, with a friendship that people like to write articles about, not totally understanding it.

Eddie dumps his bag on the floor, collapsing on his bed, groaning.

"I'm dead, bury me now," Eddie whines, smashing his face in the pillow.

Steve laughs, toeing off his shoes, and crawling in bed beside him. They have two beds, they always do, but unless it's the night before a competition, they usually squeeze into one. That's been interesting in some of the Olympic villages. Those beds are small.

Eddie rolls onto his side, and Steve slings his arm over him, pulling him closer.

"Okay, let's hear you gloat," Steve says, and Eddie laughs, leaning into Steve.

"This old man kicked your ass," Eddie says, grinning, and Steve shuts him up by pressing his lips to Eddie's, kissing him, hugging their bone-tired bodies together.

Notes: Yeah, they are based loosely on Phelps and Lochte. Two very different versions of a pro-athlete, but somehow friends. Roommates at meets, always each other's card partner, etc. (And this race, in particular.)

Olympic Trials are the end all and be all in getting on the USA Olympic Swim Team. You don't get a spot unless you finish in the top 2 (and 3-6 in the freestyle where there will be a relay.) Unlike, say, figure skating, where it is entirely up to committees. Or gymnastics, where it's half-and-half.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieholidaydrabbles and follow along with the fun!

If you want to see more of my entries into this month-long challenge, you can check them out in my Steddie Holiday Drabbles tag, right here!

#steddieholidaydrabbles #sports au #swimming #olympic au #swimmer steve harrington #swimmer eddie munson #steddie #steddie ficlet #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #thisapplepielife: short fic #thisapplepielife: steddieholidaydrabbles

[navnae]

Amateur swimmer Eddie who just needs to learn the basics of swimming and not immediately drown after stepping into the pool paired up with advanced swimmer Steve who says he can help Eddie practice. This leads to Steve holding Eddie up in the water by his waist whenever he gets the opportunity too and making Eddie a blushing mess in the process.

#steddie #swimmer Steve is real #cue the tension #prompts #steddie prompt #steddie fanfic #steddie hcs #steddie headcanon #headcanon #hcs #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #idk what else to tag #help lol #please #come on #manifesting #power #so cuuuute #lmaooooooo #that is so funny #wow #hmmmmm #omfg #i know what you are #be for real #duffer brothers i swear #i’m tiiiiiired #i’m a mess

[munsonfamilyband]

Hi, I just want to say that seeing people describe Eddie as scrawny just icks me out. Like, I don’t mind him being described as lanky, yknow? Because in reality he’s not small, he and Steve are the same height, and about the same build (if anything, Eddie’s vest is huge on Steve where it isnt on Eddie, and yeah he has a jacket under it but its a tight jacket) so seeing him described as scrawny just seems weird. Like, I won’t deny that I enjoy a good size difference, my favorite fake steddie dynamics are shorter but thicker Steve and taller but lankier Eddie, but making the nerdy one specifically scrawny or even twink-like when he so clearly isnt just feels weird to me.

I have nothing against people who disagree with this, but i don’t know it just seems kind of off. Plus, Eddie 1000% has strong arms, both because of canon evidence and because, as someone who has done work with sound in theater, that equipment is so fucking heavy, and Eddie is lugging amps and a drum set around EVERY WEEK for gigs, so he’s got strength there.

#stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #I personally see Steve as having decently strong upperbody strength but he’s a swimmer #his legs are his strongest part of him and I love that for him #i also love imagining Steve dragging Eddie toward him where he’s sitting on a counter with just his legs #Eddie just throwing Steve over his shoulder for fun #weird thought i don’t know what this was just sharing things

[thegoblinboy]

oh for SURE “For your modesty” please! :D

Oh I got a little carried away 😅

Part from “for your modesty” for WIP Wednesday (: mine are currently up if anyone wants to send a ask in!

The doors behind the line of boys slams open. A loud laugh as someone’s voice bounces off the walls. Causing everyone to cringe, as they all assume that this was just some random kid coming in to laugh at them. If they all had placed bets that moment all of them would have bet for the same thing. Standing in the doorway stood Eddie Munson. A metal head loser who didn’t have any problems sneering at any form of jock in the hallways or hopping up on a lunch table and going into a loud tangent over conformity.

They all watch as the others nose scrunches up, the smell of chlorine hitting him. The way his face goes a light pink as he looks at the line of different shirtless guys with swimming trunks that barely hid anything. Steve, for a split second is distracted by his desire to jump into the deep end along with his other teammates. Curious as to how this guy was going to react, the obvious vein that was popping from his neck was a interesting sight. Though before anyone can say anything, the locker-room doors slam open.

“Munson! Strip and get in line! ASAP, or you will be failing gym this year!”

#Steddie #wip wednesday #Steve harrington is a swimmer #Eddie munson hates all sports #Eddie will not be surviving swim meets #literally he will drown #steve x eddie

[thoughtfulseason]

i watched the swimmers and it was such a great film but the coach sven has freckles, nice smile AND hair?? 🫠 god i am not your strongest soldier

#the swimmers #matthias schweighöfer #coach sven #men #last tv man i had a strong crush on was eddie munson

[queenimmadolla]

𝐂𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬

(eddie munson x pregnant!reader)

Summary: You and Eddie discuss your current pregnancy craving...or, in which you want something not all that common of a craving and ridiculously difficult to get a hold of, and Eddie teases you over it even though you both know he's going to get it for you.

warnings: references to baby making activities.

a/n: those damn tiktoks keep getting to me. lil drabble. more dad!eddie here. masterlist.

Pregnancy was not something Eddie Munson believed he would ever understand. Wasn’t something he thought he’d have to do.

  Until—at the very responsible age of twenty─he took to finishing inside of you and one of his swimmers took. Played hide-and-seek for a good five months before either of you knew she was there.

  You hadn’t started showing until about two or three weeks after finding out, and now at almost seven months, you had the cutest baby bump Eddie couldn’t keep his hands off, a ravenous hunger for the most peculiar things and absolutely no tolerance for the weirdest fucking things; the sound of kernels popping made you want to throw up, and so did the scent of baked goods and the ‘air on Tuesdays’ (Eddie was still trying to work that one out).

  Whatever you wanted, Eddie got you. Albeit, with tons of questions asked. Like, right now.

  It was late in the evening, chilly throughout the trailer but warm in the room thanks to the trusty space heater Eddie had had for years. The both of you had traded your day clothes for pajamas, so you were in one of his t-shirts and nothing else while he was only clad in a pair of sweats because his body temperature always ran a little on the hot side, and you were curled right up to him. Your head had been previously nuzzling into the crook of his neck, placing kisses over the tendons there and nosing along his jaw but now it was craned back, batting those pretty eyelashes up at him with pleading eyes and a pout.

  “Pleeeaaaaase, Eddie?”

  “Branzino.” Eddie repeated your request with amused disbelief.

  “It’s low in mercury, so I can eat it.”

  “Branzino.”

  “It’s what she wants!” You chirped, moving a hand to rest over your growing bump. Baby Munson, your little Penny, had recently learned she had legs and could stretch them out in there. Despite the two of you settling down, she seemed to be filled with energy; you could feel her moving around, targeting certain areas with her kicks. She’d been pretty still for a good hour or two so you thought she might have woken up from a nap. 

  “Yeah?” Eddie asked, quirking his brows with lidded eyes, so engrossed with how caring you were for his baby already. 

  Witnessing you go from awkwardly acknowledging her existence with a pat or uncertain conversation to almost always having a hand over your bump, as if to protect her from a threat while talking to her as though she was already cradled in your arms, had Eddie always so tender with emotion. 

  He was so proud and in love.

  You hummed in confirmation and when Eddie’s hand moved your (his) shirt up, you immediately grasped his wrist to place his palm over the area your baby’s foot was currently pressing up against. Eddie grinned as he felt the movement just under the warmth of your skin, firm and held surprisingly long before it retreated and he rubbed over the area as you relaxed further into him.

  “She was stretching.” He correctly deduced. 

  “Mhm, she’s been kicking the heck out of my ribcage, so I think her head is right here.” You placed your free hand over your bump, just under your left breast, “She only got active after we showered, so she just woke up.”

  Eddie felt a little guilty about that, it had probably been him railing you against the shower wall that stirred her from her slumber.

  “Sorry, sweet pea.” He mumbled, continuing to rub your belly if not somewhat more apologetic, “I’m just so excited that I can’t get your mom pregnant right now, ‘cause we already have you, and she’s just so horn—“

  Eddie laughed as you delivered a swift whack to his chest with the back of your hand, fighting a smile as he teased you through an attempt to talk to your baby.

  “Excuse me, you were the one trying to feel me up on the couch!”

  “No, I did feel you up. And if I recall correctly, which I do, it was my fingers you were cum—“

  “Distracting!” You pointed an accusatory finger in his face, booping the tip of his nose with it, “You’re trying to distract me. Branzino.”

  “Ugh,” Eddie sagged into the pillows, but the smirk on his face told you you’d be getting exactly what you wanted, like always. He just liked to give you a hard time. Banter with you was like foreplay to him. “Alright, alright. Since you must have your fish dish─”

  “I must,” You placed the back of your hand against your forehead as you fell dramatically back into the pillows.

  “And since she’s craving it─”

  “She wants branzino so badly and I’d get it for her myself but I’m utterly exhausted─no, not because we had sex,” You had immediately clocked the grinch like twist in his smirk at your mentioning of exhaustion, “I’ll have you know I probably made a good chunk of her brain today. That takes energy. Dedication. And she probably sucked the bone marrow out of me to do it, or something.”

  Eddie threw his head back and howled with laughter. You giggled along with him but tried to reason, “Okay, I’m not being completely dramatic, though! She really does steal some of my own body to make hers! I could lose my teeth, Eddie. I read it in a book.”

  The bed shook with how hard Eddie was laughing and you delighted in being the reason behind it. Once he calmed down, his head lulled to the side, cheeks red from all that amusement and warm brown hues focused on you.

  “You read it in a book, huh?”

  “Yup.”

  “Ask your doctor about it?”

  “Nope.”

  “Why not?”

  “…’Cause I’m scared she’ll say it’s true.”

  You sent Eddie into another laughing fit. When he was done with that one, he launched himself out of bed and you snuggled into the spot he’d occupied—so warm and cozy—to watch him grab a shirt and hoodie from the closet, and his jacket from where he’d thrown it on the dresser. A beanie was shoved on his head and as he wrapped the scarf you’d gotten him around his neck, he eyed you with mirth twinkling in his pretty eyes.

  “Branzino in the middle of winter.”

  “It’s what she wants!”

  “It’s what she wants.” He conceded with a fond smile, “I’ll be back after like an hour and a half of driving around to find a Greek place open so you can replenish your bone marrow with it somehow and grow the rest of her brain.”

  You hummed in appreciation, beaming at him as he neared you to lean over and get a thorough kiss goodbye. 

  “Thank you,” You mumbled shyly against his mouth.

  “You don’t have to thank me . . . but you’re welcome.” He teased.

  Driving around in the cold didn't seem all that terrible with you blowing him kisses from the bed, and his baby growing inside you. 

  That damn fish was so worth it.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #dad!eddie munson x reader #girl dad!eddie munson #girl dad!eddie munson x reader #dad!eddie munson x mom!reader #pennyverse #dilf!eddie munson x reader #dilf!eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x pregnant!reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x afab!reader #eddie munson x black!reader #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things vol 1 #stranger things vol 2 #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #queenimmadolla

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 61

part 1 | part 60 | ao3

cw: mentions of canonical minor character death

Chapter 14

It's twilight by the time they make their way to Rick's place — gnat clouds swarming, sun dipped low, Lover's Lake an inky smudge beyond the blur of passing pines. Steve’s not totally sure how they got here, this dusty service road that's more pothole than pavement; one minute he's bitching about doomed love and double VHS, the next he’s taking the scenic route to a drug den.

There were some important moments in between, he’s pretty sure.

He’s also pretty sure he blacked out somewhere around the moment the morning news reported that an-unidentified-Hawkins-student-who-very-well-could-be-Eddie-Munson was found dead in his fucking trailer.

Kinda difficult to resurface from that one.

Feels like his soul’s got swimmer’s ear.

Even hours later — after Dustin and Max burst into Family Video talking a mile a minute about how Eddie was alive and they needed to use the phones; after Ernie stupidly gave a reporter Steve’s name, swearing up and down on the TV that his neighbor Steve Harrington was an upstanding young man who would never do something like this; after they spent an agonizingly long afternoon lying low and taking backroads to avoid the cops because the cops probably suspect Steve of murder now, oh god—

“It’s this next right up ahead,” Max says from the back seat. There's a map spread over the bench between her and Dustin, and Steve blinks himself awake; gives her a nod in the rearview.

Beside her, Dustin’s munching on Twizzlers he stole from the store — window down, easy slouch, just way too chipper for the situation at hand. "So Steve," he says conversationally, "now that you're a fugitive, does that mean—?"

Steve cuts Robin a pleading look.

Robin reaches back and smacks the little twerp upside the head.

"Ow!" Dustin whines.

"Shut up, please," Robin smiles.

Max makes a sound like she's trying not to laugh and checks the map again. "Right here," she says, pointing. "After that weird tree stump."

They turn onto another road that could be generously described as paved, once, several decades ago, and eventually, the winding path lets out onto a slightly nicer street. Aging but cared for, Holland Road is a crowded row of little lake houses, trailers and shacks with manicured shrubs and chipped fence paint, weeds growing through the sidewalks beneath pristine American flags. Steve pulls into the driveway of #2121.

It looks abandoned. Dark inside and out, a truck parked on the curb that's likely been there for a while, its tires sagging in a mulch of old wet leaves. There’s an autumn wreath on the front door.

“You sure this is the place?” he asks as they climb out of the car.

Max sasses him for questioning her navigation skills, Dustin unsuccessfully tries to land a revenge slap on Robin — a move that earns him a retaliation wedgie and a wrestling match he was never gonna win — and Steve pops the trunk and feels a hundred years old. Feels every bit the exhausted dad trying to keep the family road trip together as he grabs his nail bat and slings his duffel over his shoulder.

"You planning to spend the night?" Dustin teases from Robin's armpit, still bent double where she's got him in a headlock.

"No, just-" he drops the bag at their feet with a grunt, “doesn’t hurt to be prepared.”

Dustin’s eyes bug out. “Is that a can of goddamn bear mace?”

“Keep your voice down!” Steve hisses.

“You keep your voice down!”

"Should I just go ahead and choke him out?" Robin offers.

Steve considers it for a second: knock 'em all out, stuff 'em back inside the car. Go do this shit quietly by himself.

He rolls his eyes and puts his hands on his hips.

"You're no fun," she pouts, but she lets Dustin go.

Dustin grabs flashlights and walkies out of the bag, passes them around the circle. They take a moment to steel themselves — huddled together in the dark, shoulders tense, the creepy house looming ahead. Sharp shadows stretch toward them. Croaking sounds creeping from the edges of the lake.

Robin puts her flashlight under her chin like she's about to tell a scary story. "Alright, kiddos," she says in a deep, ominous voice. "Let's go rescue Steve's ex."

Stunned silence in the sudden vacuum her words create. Steve lets out a tired sigh. Dustin’s jaw is on the curb.

“His WHAT?” Dustin shouts.

Oh, my god. “He’s not my ex."

Robin rolls her eyes and says ‘sure’ under her breath, and Max turns to Dustin, laughing. “You didn’t know they were a thing?”

“We’re not—” Steve tries again.

“What were you trying to get them back together for then?”

She seems genuinely curious. Dustin seems three seconds from spontaneous combustion. “What was I WHAT?!” he yelps, limbs everywhere. Reminds Steve of Eddie so bad it hurts.

“Okay,” Steve interrupts, clapping them both on the shoulder; drops his voice to a harsh whisper. “In case you two forgot, we’re here to rescue Eddie.”

“Who you’re dating.”

Dustin’s voice is small, disconnected, his gaze far away. Like he’s shellshocked.

“Jesus Christ.” Steve pinches the bridge of his nose. “I— Yes. No. It’s complicated.”

Max snorts at his answer, Dustin makes a series of faces like he's gonna need seven years to process, and Robin interrupts his crisis by waving her flashlight like a traffic guard, walking backward up the hill as she directs them toward the house.

“Why don’t we just go find him first?” she suggests, making a rainbow with her hands, flinging light through the grimy windows. “And then Stevie here can answer alllll your big gay questions.”

Steve glares at Robin. Dustin glares at him, narrowed eyes for a full ten seconds like 'yeah, you fucking better,' and then he takes off up the driveway hollering Eddie's name.

—

part 62

tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)

#trailer park steve au #steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #max mayfield #dustin henderson #reefer rick #my writing #my fic

[hornyhornyhimbos]

pov: eddie really doesn't know when to keep his hands off you... even in public... even at lover's lake ♡

18+ duh, perv!eddie x afab!reader, fingering f!receiving, exhibitionism a lil bit, nicknames (baby, sweetheart, sweet girl), nipple sucking, explicit language, implied smut at the end, 1.3K words, color coded speaker tags, shoutout to @dungeons-are-too-cold for recommending this concept and for beta reading!

filthy fridays | ask box

you loved eddie, but man could he be an asshole...

the two of you had spent the day at lover's lake, and the day had so far been peaceful. you'd started out with a picnic on the dock, where he'd brought some of wayne munson's famous sweet tea and had made your favorite sandwiches, cut into cute little heart shapes, cheesy bastard that he was. you shared the chocolate-covered strawberries you'd brought while lying out in the sun, just enjoying the lake all to yourselves.

it wasn't until you peeled off your—or rather, his—oversized tee shirt and revealed the bathing suit you were sporting that you were reminded of just how much of an ass he could be.

you'd worn a little green number, a polka dotted ensemble that left little to the imagination. you tied the bottoms in cute little bows at your hips, and the second you pulled off your tee shirt, eddie was practically foaming at the mouth.

before he could get his hands on you, you jumped into the water, swimming away in a fit of giggles. he followed suit, tossing off his own shirt and jumping into the lake, diving after you with the ease of an olympic swimmer.

it wasn't long before eddie caught up to you, his arms wrapping around you and pulling you up to the surface with him. he was all laughs as he pulled you in for a kiss, his fingers meeting your stomach with soft tickles.

"eddie, no!" you said through giggles, your limbs flailing and throwing water everywhere. droplets hit eddie in the eyes, but he was unrelenting, spreading tickles all over your bare skin.

his fingers drifted over a particularly sensitive part of your body, causing you to jerk in response, your leg brushing in between his own. that was when you registered that this little tickle fight was driven by something else.

you rolled your eyes, turning away from your chronically horny boyfriend, but he was quick to respond, wrapping his arms around your middle and holding you close. his hardening cock rested against your ass, and you couldn't say it wasn't turning you on.

still, you managed to ask, "are you always horny?" to which he responded with a soft kiss to the dip of your neck, trailing his lips along the string of your bikini top.

"maybe," he answered, and you could hear the smirk he was sporting. "but how am i to blame for it? i can't help you're the sexiest girl alive."

you hated that his words made you blush, you hated that with one sentence he could have you turned on, but mostly, you hated that he knew exactly how to distract you. because somewhere, between the hickies he was leaving on your neck and the rutting of his hips against you, you failed to notice his hands slipping down to the fastenings of your bottoms.

"eddie?" you called in a panic as the cold water hit your now uncovered core, a rush of both anxiety and arousal flowing through your body.

"yes, baby?" he answered, fake innocence coating his tone. his lips trailed down your neck to your shoulder while his hands trailed from your hips toward your center.

"eddie, where are my bottoms?!" you all but screamed, racing to swim away but his hold on you was just tight enough to keep you against him.

"i have no clue what you're talking about," he said, a chuckle threatening to fall after the words.

you tried to squirm away, but eddie had other plans, one of his hands coming up to meet your cunt, his thumb swiping over your sensitive bundle of nerves.

"ed-" his name got caught in your breath as he teased your folds with a finger, his thumb showing no mercy to your clit.

his tone was clearly taunting as he said, "if your bottoms fell off, why don't you go try to find them?"

your head turned to face him, mouth falling into an open 'o' as his finger finally slipped inside you. "you're such a- fuck- asshole."

eddie tutted against the shell of your ear, his finger crooking deeper inside you. "now, that's no way to treat me when i'm making you feel so," one pump of his finger, "damn," a second flex, "good," a third.

you fell nearly limp against him, moans falling from your lips as he continued working the digit inside you. eddie quickly accompanied the digit with a second, soon brushing them against that sweet spot that would have you falling apart in no time.

he kissed the crook of your neck, licking softly over one of the bruises he'd left earlier. "do you wanna cum, sweetheart?"

you nodded, whined, writhed against his fingers, anything to show him just how much you wanted to. "please," you whimpered, teeth clamping down on your bottom lip.

"go ahead, sweet girl," he whispered, taking your skin between his teeth while slipping a third finger inside you, "go ahead and cum for me, yeah?"

at his instruction, you were falling apart, his fingers drawing an absolutely euphoric orgasm out of you. eddie knew each and every way to make you come undone, and while you wanted to be mad about the swimsuit situation, you definitely couldn't be mad at the way his fingers felt inside you right now.

his name fell off your tongue like your lifeline. eddie rutted against your ass, trying to find some form of relief from his ever-growing erection, leaving moans in your ear that were only coaxing on your climax. "shit, baby," he said with a particularly hard rut, "y' should wear that swimsuit more often. feel how hard you've got me?"

his comment brought you back to reality, immediately finding the force to swim away and search for the missing bottoms. luckily, they hadn't floated too far away, but in a momentary lapse of judgment, you were hit with an idea while you were under the water. your hands flew to eddie's swim trunks, pulling them down and immediately swimming back to shore.

"you're dead when i catch you!" he shouted through laughter, wading through the water and attempting to hold up his shorts at the same time.

"you started it!" you shouted back. you ran over to the van, holding the small piece of fabric in front of you as best you could, just in case anyone were to spot you. you made a quick attempt at tying them back on, but not before eddie made his way over to you.

in a swift movement, he had both of your wrists pinned above your head, your bikini bottoms falling to the pavement below. he clicked his tongue, a disapproving look on his face. "very naughty of you to run away from me like that, sweetheart," he reprimanded, holding you against the frame of the van.

your stomach twisted with want as you noticed the dark look in his eyes, excitement and arousal dripping through your veins. still, you found yourself arguing, "oh, i'm the one that's naughty? that's something coming from you, perv."

his lips met the dip of your breasts, eliciting a moan from you. "i don't seem to recall you arguing too much about the way i made you feel back there," he mentioned between kisses, his hand coming up to palm at you through the green material. "in fact, the way your pussy was sucking me in, i'd say she was upset i didn't give her more."

he pulled one of your breasts out of the bikini top, his lips trailing from the valley of your chest to your hardened nipple. a moan escaped your lips as he suckled the bud, his palm moving to cup your neglected boob.

your head fell back against the van, your thighs clenching together with every movement of his tongue. "please, eddie," you all but begged, "give me more."

with one swift movement, he had your legs wrapped around his waist, fiddling quickly with the door of his van, desperate to lay you down and fuck you right. "ask and ye shall receive, sweetheart."

-> taglist: @dungeons-are-too-cold @rupsmorge @esoltis280

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[munson-blurbs]

Billy Hargrove is into you, and you assume that you don't deserve better than that narcissistic douchebag. When heartbreak inevitably happens, Eddie Munson is there to pick up the pieces.

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI!), oral (f! receiving), protected p in v, Billy is a POS, reader is insecure about her body (no descriptions given, though she mentions not liking her stomach)

**Billy is very manipulative to get reader to sleep with him, though she does consent**

WC: 5.7k

A/N: This is based on two real experiences I had when I was younger. It's incredibly self-indulgent, but has also been wonderful for my healing process. I hope it can help someone else, too. (Also, sorry if it's rambly; it was cathartic but also emotionally difficult to write).

--

As the last swimmer exits through the iron gates, you breathe a sigh of relief at the end of another shift. Lifeguarding at Hawkins Community Pool wasn’t necessarily a difficult job, but it sure was tedious. Your flip-flops thwap against the pavement as you pad into the locker room to get dressed, skin sticky from sunscreen and that infamous mid-July humidity.

“So,” Heather says, twisting her blonde hair into a ponytail as she changes from her swimsuit into shorts and a t-shirt, “you ready to hear that secret?”

You nod enthusiastically. It’s all you’d been thinking about since you’d climbed down the lifeguard tower when her watch duty began, and she’d whispered that she had something to say to you privately. 

Heather’s eyes gleam as she announces, “Billy told me he thinks you’re hot!” She claps her hands together excitedly. “Not that he needed to; anyone can watch him check you out all day long,” she adds with a smirk. 

“Me?” you ask incredulously, unable to muffle your surprise. On instinct, you wrap your arms around your waist protectively. Heather might be comfortable changing in public, but your own body insecurities made it torturous for you to even be naked privately. 

“Yes, you!” your co-worker giggles. “You should talk to him.”

You’re still mulling over the prospect of Billy Hargrove being into you when your ride pulls up to the pool gates. Waving goodbye to Heather, you hop in the passenger seat of Eddie’s van. He picks you up every night you work, and the two of you always split a joint in your backyard before he heads back to the trailer park. It makes your crappy summer job all worth it; God knows the pay isn’t even going to cover your textbooks when you go back to college in August.

“Save any little gremlins today?” he jokes, turning down his music so he can hear your answer.

You shake your head and laugh. “Nah, just yelled, ‘no running!’ about 84 times.” Leaning back in the seat and stretching your legs, you glance over at him. “But Heather told me something interesting.” Eddie cocks his eyebrow, and you take that as a sign to continue. “Apparently, Billy Hargrove thinks I’m hot.” You can’t help the smile that spreads across your face. Sure, he’s not exactly your knight in shining armor, but he’s an attractive guy who has a thing for you.

“Oh, ew.” Eddie wrinkles his nose. “Please describe the look on that douche canoe’s face when you turn him down.”

“Who says I’m turning him down?” you quip, crossing your arms over your chest. 

Your best friend sighs. “Well, you should,” he says pointedly, never one to mince words. “Guys like Hargrove only want to get in a girl’s pants and then find a new victim.”

“Why are you being such a bummer?” you snap. Eddie just keeps his eyes on the road, oblivious to your glare. “If Jeff was about to get laid, you’d be throwing him a goddamn parade!”

He chuckles tersely. “That’s because Jeff getting laid would be a fuckin’ miracle.”

You look around, exaggerating your movements for emphasis. “Well, asshole, I don’t exactly see a line of people forming to sleep with me, either.” With that, you pull your knees to your chest and turn your body so that your back is to him.

The car is silent, save for the sounds of Metallica’s Ride the Lightning album crackling through the speakers. After what seems like an eternity, Eddie pulls into your driveway and throws the van in park.

“Did…did you still wanna smoke?” he asks quietly, twiddling with a loose thread on the ripped knee of his jeans.

“Nope.” You jump out of the van, slamming the door shut behind you. “And you don’t have to drive me home tomorrow. I bet Billy will do it.”

You hear him calling your name as you stalk into your house. Honestly, you could really use some weed right now, but you’re too infuriated at him to push it all aside for a quick smoke session.

The next day, you make a point to sit next to Billy when you take your break. He’s smoking a cigarette, occasionally flicking ash into a chipped tray on the table. 

“Can I bum one?” you ask, pointing to the rolled tobacco between his plush lips. 

Billy smirks, reaching for the pack of Marlboros and holding it out to you. “Didn’t peg you for a smoker, sugar.” He passes you his lighter, and you spark up and inhale deeply.

“I usually prefer something greener, but this’ll do.” You take another drag, trying to work up the nerve to say what’s on your mind. As the smoke curls around your mouth, you notice Billy’s eyes trail down the curves of your body, as though he’s trying to drink you in. “Something I can help you with, Hargrove?” you tease, impressed with the way you easily flirt with him. It’s so unlike you, but it feels good.

“Yeah,” he says, chuckling softly. “You can hang with me tonight. Got the place to myself, so, y’know…” He trails off and raises his eyebrows, looking at you expectantly.

Your stomach flip-flops despite yourself. This is what you want, right? No more waiting around for Prince Charming to sweep you off your feet. It’s not going to happen, never going to happen, not when you look the way you do. And if a gorgeous man like Billy Hargrove is actually willing to have sex with you, you’re in no position to turn him down. “O-Okay,” you stammer, hoping he doesn’t sense your nervousness. “I’m working till nine tonight; is that–”

“Perfect,” he interrupts, flashing you a megawatt smile. “I finish at six, but I’ll stick around just for you, pretty thing.”

Pretty. He called you pretty, and he wants you. Wants you enough to hang out at work for an extra three hours just to be with you.

The rest of your shift drags by; all you can think about is Billy. The way he feels, the way he tastes, what he looks like underneath those swim trunks.

The only problem is that he’ll also want to see you naked. The thought sours your mood. You try not to catch glimpses of yourself in the bathroom mirror after you get out of the shower, and now you’re about to let him see you, completely vulnerable.

Stop being such a baby, you scold yourself. Beggars can’t be choosers.

Billy’s waiting outside the locker room once your shift ends. He takes your hand in his larger, stronger one, and leads you to his car.

“Seems kinda silly, getting changed out of that cute little swimsuit,” he whispers in your ear, sending shivers down your spine, “when you’re gonna get undressed again so soon.” He leans you up against the passenger door, pinning your hips back and kissing you hungrily. One hand roams under your t-shirt to the swell of your breasts, breaking away when he feels the fabric of your bra. “You tryin’ to hide these from me, sugar?” He starts to reach for the clasp, but you stand up a bit straighter.

“Did you wanna, like, grab something to eat?” you ask shyly. “We can stop by Benny’s on the way to yours if…if you like burgers?” You cringe as the words leave your lips. Could you sound any more pathetic?

Billy just chuckles patronizingly. “That sounds like a date, and, uh, I don’t do dates.” He leans in, taking your earlobe between his teeth. “But I do other stuff real well.”

Something isn’t right. This isn’t what you want, but you should want it, and so you push down the apprehension and try to focus on the man in front of you. “That’s fine,” you murmur, even though it isn’t. People have casual sex all the time. It doesn’t mean he’s any less attracted to you. Like he said, he’s not the dating type, so why cause problems where none exist?

“I don’t know if I can wait until we get to mine,” he growls, and you can practically taste the spearmint gum that he was chewing earlier. “Might just have to do you in the backseat, hm?”

You nod as he opens the door for you, pretending for a millisecond to be a gentleman. He clambors in behind you and slams it shut, pulling you onto his lap so you’re straddling his waist. You can feel his erection pressed against your clothed sex, and you allow yourself to smile. You did this to him. You got him hard. Not Chrissy Cunningham, or Heather, or Bo Derek. You.

He starts to take off your shirt, but you push his hands away. “Something wrong?” he asks, giving an exasperated sigh. Did you already fuck this up?

“N-No, it’s just…” you avert your gaze, too embarrassed to make eye contact. “Could I keep my shirt on? I don’t really like my body, and I’d just feel better if I didn’t, um, take it off.” Heat blazes behind your cheeks, and you will yourself not to cry.

“For fuck’s sake,” Billy grumbles under his breath, flexing his biceps as he stretches. He lets his hands fall to your ass with a soft smack. “You got me all worked up, and now you’re not even gonna let me see your tits?”

You duck your head in shame. “I’m kinda insecure about the way I look,” you admit, hoping it will soften his heart. Though kinda is an understatement. 

He rolls his eyes, running his tongue over his teeth impatiently. “Y’know,” he finally says, squeezing the plush of your ass, “you might feel better about yourself if you got naked for me.” 

You inhale sharply; that’s not at all what you expected him to say. Maybe something reassuring; something about how much he liked the way you look. Instead, he’s clearly irritated with your hesitation. 

“M-Maybe.” It’s worth a shot, and you slowly peel off your top and unhook your bra, letting it fall to the floor of the car. You watch anxiously as his eyes flit across your bare chest, waiting for his reaction. An indication that he just has to have you and only you.

Instead, he clicks his tongue and simply says, “not bad.” He fumbles with your shorts button before unfastening his own. He strokes his cock lazily, staring at you. “Touch yourself, sugar. Get yourself ready f’me.”

There’s something screaming at you that this isn’t right; he should at least attempt to get you off instead of asking you to do the work for him. But you do as you’re told, not wanting to humiliate yourself further. 

You shimmy out of your shorts, pushing your panties aside and rubbing slow, timid circles around your clit. You’ve done this plenty of times to know what feels good, yet you can’t seem to get it right when it counts. Billy doesn’t notice—or care—that the moans floating past your lips are fake, and he lines himself up with your entrance. 

“Condom?” you remind him, and he rolls his eyes again.

“Doesn’t feel as good,” he grumbles, but he reaches into his wallet and pulls out the square piece of foil and tears it open, sliding the rubber over his thick cock. He pushes into you, not bothering to take his time as he ruts up. “Move your hips for me,” he tells you. “Bounce up and down; damn, do I gotta walk you through everything?”

Tears prickle at your eyes, and you manage to blink them away before he can see. Maybe this’ll get easier with time, you think. Maybe I’m just too nervous. You will yourself to relax, holding onto his broad shoulders as you lean down to kiss him.

“Feels good, yeah?” Billy grunts, and you nod as you zone out. You throw out a few more half-hearted whines as his hips stutter against your pelvis and he spills into the condom. “Fuck, there ya go, take it,” he croons, sweat trickling down his forehead. As soon as he rides out his orgasm, he’s hoisting you off of him so he can clean himself up. “Same time tomorrow?”

“Yeah, sure.” You try to sound enthusiastic. “Could you, um, drive me home?”

“Whatever,” he shrugs, but waits for you to put your clothes back on and climb into the passenger seat.

He wants to do this again tomorrow, meaning he wasn’t completely repulsed by your body. So everything should be good, right?

The next week and a half is filled with lust-fueled backseat romps, usually ending with Billy coming and you…well, returning home to use your trusty vibrator. You’re starting to feel a bit more comfortable, but not in your own skin. It’s more that there’s a certain power behind Billy choosing you when he could be with literally anyone else. You hold your head a little higher, walk a little taller. Even your parents notice on your weekend trip to visit your grandparents in Indianapolis, though you didn’t clue them in on the source of your newfound confidence.

When you get back to the pool that Monday, you’re about to whisper in Billy’s ear to ask if he has a second to “check out a situation in the locker room” with you. What you find stops you dead in your tracks.

His arm is wrapped around Heather. They’re laughing together and she presses her lips to his cheek; he tilts her chin so he can kiss her passionately. It’s more tender, more loving than the way he kisses you.

The ground starts to spin, and you grab onto a plastic chair to steady yourself. As soon as Heather walks away, you march over to Billy.

“What the fuck?” you hiss, trying to keep your volume down. You wince as your voice cracks, giving away the sadness tucked inside your frustration. “Are you with Heather now? Like, with her?”

“Uh, guess so,” Billy replies snidely, twirling a toothpick between his teeth.

You bite your lower lip, willing yourself not to cry. “I thought you said you weren’t the dating type?”

He shrugs. “Just kinda happened,” he says nonchalantly, as if he didn’t just destroy your world. “You were away, she asked me to go to Scoops and grab some ice cream; one thing led to another, and…” he trails off. “Not like you and I were exclusive or some shit.”

“Because you didn’t wanna be!”

“And why do you think that is, huh?” Billy shoots back. “Why do you think I’d rather be with Heather than with you?” He scoffs, leaning back in his chair slightly. “You’re so goddamn uptight, y’know? Always worrying about the way you look, about people seeing us in the car. Heather just…goes with the flow. I can’t deal with someone so high-maintenance. Actually, most guys can’t.” With that, he storms out of the break room, leaving you trembling.

A wave of nausea washes over you as you slump down in a seat. All you wanted was to be wanted, and you blew it. Billy’s right; your insecurities keep you unloveable.

You try to take deep breaths, letting the tears slip down your cheeks. Your shift doesn’t start for another ten minutes, so you pray that you’re able to collect yourself before you’re due to start your watch. You’re sobbing too hard to notice the two boys peering into the lounge, watching you with growing concern before dashing to the nearest payphone. 

You slide on your sunglasses to hide your red, puffy eyes. The last thing you need is people asking you what’s wrong. Just as you’re about to walk over to the lifeguard stand–to switch with Billy, of all people–you feel a tap on your shoulder.

Eddie.

“Um, hey,” he mumbles, scratching the back of his head nervously. “Will and Dustin called; said they saw Hargrove yelling at you, and you crying. Told me to ‘get my scrawny ass here, stat.’” He gives a terse chuckle. “Exact quote, by the way.”

You want to wrap your arms around him and never let go, but you remember what he said to you. Worse, that he was right. “‘M fine,” you lie, and Eddie sees right through it.

He gingerly takes off your sunglasses, heart breaking as he gets a glimpse of your tearful expression. “C’mere,” he says, pulling you in for a tight hug and pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. It’s so tender, sweet, and selfless. It’s Eddie.

“Go tell your boss that you’re not feeling well, yeah?” he says finally, still not letting you go. “We can go grab something to eat, and you can tell me everything.”

“‘M not hungry,” you shake your head, “and I just wanna go home.” Your voice is whiny, but you’re too sad to care.

“Okay, well, you’re still leaving,” Eddie insists, and you don’t have the energy to argue. “The sheep,” he gestures to where Dustin and Will are standing, and they wave as though they’ve been caught, “will tell your boss that you’re sick. Lady problems or whatever.” You feel his fingers intertwine with yours as he leads you to his van. “And you can tell me as much as you want, ‘kay?”

You nod wordlessly as Eddie gives the younger kids a thumbs-up. He normally chooses the music, whether he’s the driver or the passenger, but this time, he tilts his chin towards the radio and says, “all yours.”

You turn the dial until you hear a Fleetwood Mac song, expecting Eddie to crack a joke or complain about your selection, but he just taps the steering wheel to the beat. When he drives to a gas station to fill up his tank, you don’t think anything of it until he comes back out with a bag full of Haagen-Daaz.

“Got all your favorite flavors,” he announces, plopping back into the driver’s seat. “I know you said you’re not hungry, but you will be at some point. So…sustenance.”

A smile tugs at your lips, and you manage a small “thanks,” as he drives you back to your place. When he pulls into the driveway, he waits awkwardly for you to say anything else.

Finally, he breaks the silence by handing you the bag from the Shell station. “Don’t want this to melt,” he offers lamely, frowning when you burst into a fresh round of tears. You hear him mutter, “that’s it,” and he kills the engine, jumping out of the van to run to your side. “Up and at ‘em.” He pulls you out of your seat, scooping you up and flinging you over his shoulder with ease. He kicks the van door closed, walking to your front door before setting you down. 

“That’s my favorite method of transportation,” you giggle softly, and he breathes a sigh of relief as your humor peeks through. 

“Save a horse, ride a Munson, right?” he jokes back, blushing when he realizes the double entendre he just made. “Uh, anyway, I can leave if you want…” He stuffs his hands into his back pockets nervously. 

“You can come in,” you say, unlocking the door. He follows you, heading straight for the kitchen and grabbing two spoons from the drawer. 

“Figured we could start with cookie dough,” he says, holding out the pint. “Ladies first.”

The two of you sit on the couch in comfortable silence as you dig into dessert. Halfway through, you look up at him through misty eyes. “I’m waiting for the ‘I told you so,’” you say softly. 

“Huh?”

You tell Eddie everything: Billy’s claim that he wanted something casual, his reaction to you asking to keep your shirt on, the venom he spewed earlier today. “I never should’ve trusted him.”

But Eddie’s seeing red, fists clenched and jaw squared in pure rage. “The fuck did he say?” He stands up so quickly that he nearly knocks over the pint of ice cream. 

“Where are you going?”

“To kick his sorry ass!” Eddie exclaims, grabbing his keys from the table where he tossed them. 

“He’s not worth it,” you tell him. “Just…can you stay here and eat ice cream with me? Please?”

“Fine,” Eddie grumbles, plopping back down next to you. “But I still wanna punch him in the face.”

“You and me both,” you agree, taking another spoonful before posing the question you’ve been too afraid to ask. “Do you think I’m a slut?”

Eddie nearly chokes on his bite of cookie dough. “A slut? Because you slept with some douchebag?”

“No,” you say quietly, “for having sex with someone because I wanted to feel beautiful.”

His whole body deflates. “That’s why you…why wouldn’t you think you’re beautiful?”

You bark out a tense laugh. “Where to start? Um, my face, my hair, my body…oh, and apparently, now I’m too insecure and uptight to love, so…”

Eddie cradles your face between his strong, calloused hands. “Listen to me,” he says. “You are the most goddamn beautiful person on this Earth. Your eyes…I could stare into them all day. You have the cutest nose I’ve ever seen. Your smile makes me smile. And your hair…no matter how you wear it, you always look good. Sometimes you say things like, ‘ugh, my hair’s a mess today,’ and I’m just flabbergasted.”

“Flabbergasted?” you interject, amused by his word choice.

“Flabbergasted,” Eddie affirms. “And your body is…I’m gonna sound like such a creep here, so forgive me, but your body is so fucking hot. Like the night we had that argument, you said something about no one else wanting to sleep with you. But I know for a fact that that’s not true.”

“It’s not? Who wants to sleep with me?”

Eddie laughs nervously as he slowly raises his hand. “Um, me? But not, like, in a smash-and-dash way. Like in a take you on dates, hold your hand, be your boyfriend kinda way? Oh my God, just tell me to shut up. Please.”

“You’re just saying that to cheer me up,” you mutter.

“Nope. It’s the truth. Cross my heart.” He makes the slashes across his chest with his fingers. “Wait…the thought of us together cheers you up?”

You nod shyly. “Just never thought you’d be into me like that.”

“Well, I am. I so fuckin’ am, holy shit.” Eddie looks like he wants to kiss you, but he’s holding back. “Can I take you on a date? Maybe tomorrow?”

“I’d love a date with you, Eddie Munson.” You watch as a grin spreads across his face, and you rest your head on his shoulder. He lays his arm along the back of the couch, not quite sure whether to put it around you. That’s how the two of you fall asleep as the remaining ice cream melts in its container.

Seeing Billy at work the next day still stings a bit, but it’s easier than it was. You know he’s an idiot, a player, a manipulative piece of shit. And you have a date with Eddie, who is the kindest, gentlest soul you’ve ever met. And you deserve that kindness.

Eddie picks you up from work as usual, but instead of his typical ripped jeans and a concert tee, he’s wearing…well, un-ripped jeans and a concert tee. But he smells like a new cologne as he kisses your cheek, blushing as he pulls away.

“You look absolutely incredible,” he muses, reaching over to hold your hand. “Seriously, I’m so lucky you agreed to go out with me, shit.” He smiles at you, shaking his head.

“What?”

“Nothin’, I just…” He can’t seem to shed his dopey, lovesick grin. “Told myself I wasn’t gonna kiss you; like, kiss you kiss you, until the end of the date. But you just look so goddamn gorgeous.”

“Shut up,” you duck your head, trying to hide from him. “I’m the lucky one. My date is hot and has a kickass personality to match.”

“Guess we both got lucky tonight.” Eddie bites his lower lip when he realizes what he’s just implied. “I mean–”

You squeeze his hand, effectively silencing his racing thoughts. “Where are you taking me?” you ask, trying to change the subject. It’s not that you were embarrassed by his Freudian slip, but after what happened with Billy, you weren’t looking to rush into sex.

“You’ll see,” Eddie says, excitement building in his voice. A few moments later, you’re walking into the Coffee and Contemplation Café, with Eddie holding the door open for you. Your sundress swishes along your thighs as you take a seat across from Eddie. He immediately takes your hands in his, caressing them with his thumbs.

“Eds?”

“Mm?”

“I need to look at the menu.”

“Oh.” He lets go of your hands, looking a bit sad as he does. “Sorry, baby. Shit–can I call you that?”

“Yeah,” you say. “I really like that, actually.” Baby. You’re Eddie’s “Baby.”

When the waitress comes around, you order a vanilla latte, and Eddie orders coffee with cream and two sugars. “That’s what Wayne always orders when we go to the diner,” he explains. The two of you decide to split a piece of crumb cake–one slice, two forks.

“This is a really nice date, Eds.” You wrinkle your nose. “Hmm. I need a cute nickname for you now, huh?”

Eddie taps his chin as though he’s deep in thought. “How about…stud muffin?” He feigns offense when you giggle. “What? Am I not studly?”

“Oh, the studliest,” you reassure him, still laughing. “I like ‘babe,’ though. Because you are a babe.”

“I dunno…kinda like stud muffin better,” Eddie teases, taking a sip of his coffee. “Now, tell me all about your day.”

And so you fill him in on every detail, from the kid who peed in the pool to the mother who berated the lifeguards for “allowing” it to happen. “Like we can control their bladders or something,” you add with an eye roll, and Eddie cackles. A strand of hair falls in his face, and you tuck it behind his ear.

“Thanks, baby,” he murmurs, peering at you from under impossibly long lashes. That’s when you lean in and kiss him, soft and slow and sweet. He’s not expecting it; probably thinking he was going to initiate when he dropped you back off at home. His lips remain frozen for a second until his brain registers what’s happening. Then he’s kissing you back, palm on your cheek.

“Was that okay?” you ask finally. Eddie’s response is to slam a $10 bill on the table and grab your hand, leading you back to his van. He kisses you again against the side door; it reminds you of how Billy kissed you that night that you…

Eddie notices that you’ve stopped kissing him back, and he pulls away. “Baby? You good?”

“Y-Yeah,” you stammer. He’s not Billy. Not even close. Not even a little bit. You take a deep breath. “Just nervous, c-cause the last time I did this, it, uh, didn’t end well for me.”

Eddie wraps his arms around your waist, gently pulling you towards him. “Hey, hey,” he coos. “There’s no rush, yeah? And I’d never–never make you do anything you’re not ready for.”

“I know.” And you do. So for now, you just rest your head against his chest, listening to the beautiful sound of his heartbeat.

The next month before you leave for school is filled with dates, each better than the last. Eddie takes you to the carnival, the drive-in movie theater, picnics at Lover’s Lake…anywhere he can. The kissing gets more fun; you’re able to focus on Eddie–your Eddie–and not on your past experiences.

The night before you’re set to go back to college, you’re ready to take that next step with him. The two of you are sitting on his bed and listening to music; your plans for an outdoor music festival having been squandered by the pouring rain. You move closer to him, straddling his waist as you press your lips to his neck.

“‘M gonna miss you s’much,” you pout, moving your mouth to his. “Want you, babe. All of you.”

Eddie gives a terse chuckle. “I want you too; so fuckin’ bad. But we don’t have to do this just because you’re leaving. I’m not gonna break up with you. In fact, I…” he swallows thickly before continuing, “I think I love you, baby. Shit, no; I know I love you.”

“I know I love you, too,” you smile, kissing him again. “And I want to have sex with you because I love you, and I want to show you.” You dig your fingers into Eddie’s hair, nuzzling your noses together. “Is that okay?”

“More than okay,” he breathes, hands settling on your hips. “You’ll let me know if you wanna stop, right? Just tell me, and we can go back to cuddling. Promise me.”

“I promise,” you say, and it’s the truth.

Eddie nods. “Okay. On your back, baby. Let me take care of you.” 

You do as he asks, and you feel his lips trail down your torso, stopping just before he reaches the throbbing ache between your legs. “Yes?” he looks up at you patiently.

“Yes.” With that, he unbuttons your shorts and tugs them down your legs, running his middle finger along your lace panties. He shivers as he feels how wet you are, all for him, and he nearly tears the underwear in half trying to yank it off of you.

“Wanna taste you,” Eddie mutters.

“Y-You can taste me.” You whimper, and Eddie wastes no time licking a soft stripe along your folds, easily finding your clit. “Right there.” His lips wrap around your sensitive bud, flicking his tongue over it. “Holy shit, yes, right fucking there.”

Eddie detaches from your sex for a second, chin already shiny with your slick. “Keep makin’ those pretty noises f’me, please.” He sounds just as desperate as you do as he plunges back between your legs, this time slipping a finger inside you as he licks. You’re moaning, and there’s no faking it this time. Eddie’s touch has you floating, You can vaguely sense him rutting up against the mattress, so turned on just by eating you out. He’s holding onto your hips, eyes never leaving your body.

“Gonna come, feels s’good,” you whine, never wanting this feeling to end. You grind up into his face as you ride out your orgasm, gripping the sheets and screaming his name. “Eddie, Eddie, I’m coming, holy fuck!” After he brings you back down from the high, you push yourself up onto your knees.

“Where ya goin’?” he asks. “Was that too much?”

“Just wanna return the favor.” You lean over to rub him through his tented jeans, but he shakes his head.

“Not tonight,” he mutters, “I’m too pent up. I’ll never last in that perfect little mouth of yours.” He kisses you deeply, and you can taste yourself on his lips. “Can I be inside you?”

“Yes, babe. Please.” You look down, realizing that your shirt is still on. You want to show him all of you, let him touch every last inch of your body, but you hesitate to take it off.

Eddie must be able to read your mind, because he tilts your chin in his direction. “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t wanna see you naked,” he admits, “but only if you’re ready. You can keep it on if you’re more comfortable.”

You inhale in for three and exhale for three before you respond. “I’m ready. I’m comfortable.” You lift the shirt above your head, revealing your bare breasts. The incredulous stare on your boyfriend’s face is almost comical. “Are you okay?” you giggle.

“No, I think I died and went to Heaven,” he says, letting his thumbs graze over your hardened nipples. He undresses himself in record time, revealing his long, thick cock. Pre-cum drips from the tip. “Baby, I wanna spend all night touching you, but I’m gonna bust if–”

“It’s okay,” you interrupt, looping your arms around his neck and kissing him. 

He reaches into his dresser drawer, pulling out a condom and removing it from its wrapper. “Can you put it on me?” he whispers, and you oblige, rolling it down his length. He hisses at your touch, too sensitive to ask you to linger there. He sets you back on the pillows, slowly pushing into you a little at a time until he’s fully inside. “Good, baby?”

“Mhm,” you mewl. “S’good. You can–you can go faster, whenever you want.”

Eddie threads his fingers with yours, putting your hands up next to your head as he rocks into you. “God, you’re so beautiful,” he groans. “The most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. I love you, I love you, fuck, I love you.” He punctuates each I love you with a kiss to your lips.

“I love you, Eddie. ‘M all yours.”

“All mine,” he echoes, “my baby’s all mine. And I’m hers. Her pussy belongs to me and–shit–my cock belongs to her.” He squeezes your hand, not possessively, but as a reminder that it’s him. It’s him, it’s you, it’s the two of you together. His eyes never leave yours, and he suddenly smiles. “You make me so damn happy.”

“This has been the best summer of my life,” you agree, “and it’s all because I have you, babe.” 

His chest rubs against yours ever-so-slightly, and the sensation of your breasts has him weak. “I’m gonna come.” His expression is apologetic. “Shit, I didn’t wanna–”

“Let go for me,” you assure him, feeling yourself come undone as you speak. “We c-can come together.” Your second orgasm of the evening happens on his cock as he spills into the condom with a wanton moan. He’s still for a minute, catching his breath before removing himself from your warmth.

“I love you,” he says as he kisses you, sliding off the barrier and tying it. “Let me toss this, and then can we cuddle? I kinda just wanna hold you.”

“I’m down to cuddle before round two,” you say, laughing at his dumbfounded expression. “Don’t worry; I’ll give you a few minutes to reload.”

“I’m not worried about that,” he says, climbing back into bed and sighing happily as you snuggle into his chest. “We’ve got all the time in the world.”

“Forever?”

“Forever.”

--

#eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things #eddie munson fanfic #fanfic

[formosusiniquis]

sandra bullock eat your heart out

inspired by this post and the tags by @stevieharringtonwifeguy

Without putting too fine a point on it, Eddie wasn't exactly the type to watch beauty pageants. They didn’t really think about them, didn’t really care about them, didn’t really realize they were even still a thing outside of sitcom plotlines from the 90s about women’s self image. What Eddie was was extremely online. And when Twitter went fucking batshit because a plus sized transwoman had the nerve to be talented enough to make it to the Miss America competition; they figured they should support the home team -- or whatever shit Wayne says when the wrong horse boys makes it to the big football game.

So sure, they expected her to be pretty. It is in the name. Imagined she’d be good looking in that classic, sort of boring way. A blonde with a nice smile, a fucking button nose. A non-threatening, homegrown sort of beauty. It being the internet complaining, they kinda also figured plus size meant a size 2 dress and a C cup. 

They couldn't in their wildest dreams picture the woman who would appear on their TV, when they finally figured out where they could even watch the damn thing. Statuesque with a squared jaw and swimmers shoulders, moles dot her face and neck, it looks like her nose has been broken before. Plush thighs and a biteable ass fill out a royal blue evening gown, when she smiles it’s like the sun coming out from behind the clouds.

Alone in their apartment, Eddie has no one to scream the thoughts ricocheting in their brain at. It leaves them with nowhere to turn but the place that got them here to begin with.

The Eddie Munson ✔ @CorrodedEddie

I'm used to people having bad taste but at this point I'm wondering if we're even watching the same thing

The Eddie Munson ✔ @CorrodedEddie

Miss Indiana is the most beautiful woman I've ever seenThe Eddie Munson ✔ @CorrodedEddie

How do I do the added context thing, i need to make a note on some posts. Reader’s noted: User is actually a sad loser who’s cockroach wifed themselves and can’t appreciate what’s in front of them

Read the rest on AO3 cause this baby has formatting

#steddie #transfem steve harrington #stevie harrington #genderqueer eddie munson #this is all ive thought about since i saw that post btw #hope you like it! #my fic

[thisapplepielife]

Written for the @steddiemas challenge.

Permanent 99

Prompt Day 30: Smut Themed Sentence Starters | Word Count: 2811 | Rating: E | CW: Sexual Content, 18+ Only | Tags: Sports AU, Swimming AU, Modern Setting, Eddie & Gareth are BFFs, Olympic Swimmers, Heat Wave, Outdoor Fooling Around, Blowjob, Eddie POV

This follows my Sports AU drabble from @steddieholidaydrabbles where they were Olympic Swimmers, but can be read standalone.

This one is also available right here on AO3.

we're hot and sticky as we can get, don't need to go swimming to be soakin' wet, you lean in and you bite my lip, it's hard to be cool in heat like this, sweat drop at the end of your nose, makes you lose your mind and lose your clothes Christian Kane, Permanent 99

Eddie rests his forearm over his eyes, attempting to block out the way too bright sun and wipe the sweat away from his forehead at the same time. 

The strips of cheap vinyl from the PVC lounger are sticking to his bare back and he can't seem to shift in any way to get comfortable with the feeling. Steve is worth millions, but he's dragged out some old as shit, tri-fold lounge chairs from last century. They had to have been stashed in his parents' pool house, left over from the eighties, faded from sun and years of disuse. If Eddie's going to be subjected to the summer sun, he's definitely gonna need a newer chair, because this is really not working for him. 

He's sticking to it in ways that feel really gross.

That has a lot to do with the fact that it's so humid it's almost insufferable. The glare off of the water isn't helping matters. It's blinding him, even through his sunglasses. They've spent a lifetime looking at pool water, so Eddie's not entirely sure why they're still doing it now, on their own time.

“It’s hot as shit,” Eddie finally announces, moving his arm just enough to catch a glimpse of Steve next to him.

Steve smiles, seemingly unconcerned by the unrelenting heat. 

He's tanned, and glistening in the sun, looking every bit of a Greek god. That bastard.

Eddie's actually seen Steve in Athens, at the fucking Olympiad itself, and he damn well didn't look anything like he does right now. Steve was only nineteen then, still just a kid chasing a dream. And, now he's a man. A gorgeous man.

Eddie is pretty sure he looks like an overheated, wet cat in comparison. A pitiful thing that probably just needs put down.

But Eddie grins, because retirement looks good on Steve Harrington. Damn good. Retired before thirty. That's quite the thing to wrap his head around. 

But that's not going to stop Eddie's complaining.

“From now on, summer months will be spent strictly indoors. It's too hot, and I’m too pale for this,” Eddie declares, as if that is the final decision on the subject matter.

It isn't. Not if his perpetually sun-kissed boyfriend has a say in the matter.

Steve just rolls his eyes, and doesn’t look away from his magazine, "You made the worst dressed list, again," Steve offers, flashing the glossy pages in his direction. "They put you on the fug list."

Well, Eddie doesn't give a flying fug what that rag thinks. He's gonna wear what he's gonna wear. 

"And let me guess, you're in the other column?" Eddie asks, but he already knows it. Ever since they went public with their relationship after retirement, they've been tabloid fodder. Everyone has been speculating on how long this has been going on (since Athens) and how long it will last (hopefully forever) and they've picked apart every last detail of their lives they can get their hands on. And their very different style choices have been a popular topic of conversation.

Steve retired, Eddie didn't. Until he did. And now, they're both out of the meat grinder, free at last to do whatever they want to with all this brand new free time. Eddie's had fun running swim clinics for kids, and Steve has been funneling his time and money into his charitable foundation.

The rest of the time, they spend lazing together, just like this. Finally getting to really build this relationship of theirs into something even deeper, and stronger, than ever before.

They can't leave swimming, not totally. It's in their blood. But it's nice to be away from the early practices and constant sacrifices you have to make to be an Olympian, not just once, but several Games in a row.

Their not-so-secret love went public at Eddie's last Games, when Steve showed up, but kept out of the announcer's booth, and refused to be interviewed. He wasn't there for his own promo. Everybody was pissy about it, wanting a piece of him, wanting the ratings boost his voice, his face, would bring in. But Steve was only there to see Eddie, Gareth and the rest of his friends on Team USA swim, that's it.

So, it didn't take long for rumors to reach a fever pitch, and instead of denying them. They just admitted they were together, and had been, for a very long time. And now, they were looking forward to retirement, together. 

And that was that. 

They've been holed up at Steve's house ever since, trying to keep away from prying eyes, to just be together. With no other commitments. No early practices. No strict diets.

They're just Eddie and Steve. No longer Harrington and Munson.

But, Eddie's getting a little stir crazy and a lot hot. He needs to be anywhere but beside a pool right now.

“I haven’t even set foot in the goddamn pool and I’m sweating through my trunks,” Eddie whines, just making sure his opinion on the subject has been heard by Steve, loud and clear.

“Shoulda rocked the banana hammock, bro,” Steve supplies with a shrug of his shoulders, laughing loudly, totally unbothered by Eddie’s constant bitching. 

Eddie smiles, "Don't call me bro, dude."

Steve giggles, and it's the best sound. So carefree. All that weight of expectation just…gone. It was amazing to see. Retired from professional swimming, Steve doesn’t sweat the small stuff, not anymore. And Eddie is one hundred percent down for that.

"Speedos aren’t exactly casual pool wear, regardless of what you might think, Harrington,” Eddie adds.

“Sure they are,” Steve answers, waving his hand over his lap.

Eddie looks over at Steve, and lowers his sunglasses down his nose. Steve's wearing a tiny, all-white Speedo that Eddie can't look away from. It was a purposeful choice, Eddie is well aware. 

Steve's baiting him. 

And the white makes it basically see through. It’s nearly obscene and Eddie knows damn good and well Steve wore it on purpose, knowing he’d either sweat through it, and make it see through, or end up in the pool…and make it see through. 

Eddie knows this game well and it sadly always, always works on him. He's an easy mark. Always has been when it comes to Steve Harrington.

Eddie pushes his glasses back up on his face.

“You're right, the Federation should have forgotten all about the tech suits and went back to those," Eddie says, licking his lips, wetting them. Two can play at this game.

There’s a sweat drop clinging to the end of Steve’s nose and Eddie reaches over to catch it with his thumb. Raking his eyes all over Steve.

"Is this seriously turning you on?" Steve asks, lifting an eyebrow. "I'm basically wearing an old work uniform."

Eddie just nods, looking at every inch of Steve's body. Still toned, but already going slightly softer in places. Not to mention all the body hair. Steve's hairy, when the fuck did that happen? After only knowing him as the shaved and waxed swimmer, this has been a fucking revelation of a magnitude Eddie can't even put into words. 

Steve's a man. No longer the kid he was when they met, a million years and a million miles away from here.

"You're staring," Steve says, teasing him, and Eddie just nods. He's definitely staring and he'll do it some more. 

Steve smiles and sets his magazine down and crawls over onto Eddie’s lounger, straddling Eddie’s thighs. It creaks and shifts under them, and Eddie holds his breath, and prepares for the little metal legs to collapse. It doesn't, miraculously, and Steve takes Eddie's stillness for an opportunity to lean in and bite at Eddie’s bottom lip before Eddie can, well, give him any more lip. Eddie groans a little at the feeling, hands settling on Steve’s hips. Steve deepens the kiss and runs his fingers through Eddie’s sweat-damp hair.

When they finally break apart, Steve is even slicker with sweat than he was before, but he just grins down at Eddie.

“Let’s go in,” Eddie urges, thumbs tracing lazy circles on Steve’s exposed hip bones. Running his thumb over Steve's Olympic rings tattoo that's just barely peeking over the top of the tiny Speedo. 

Steve took Eddie to get his own rings tattoo after his first Olympics, and Eddie took Gareth after his. It's a sacred tradition. 

Eddie presses his thumb into the slightly faded ink, then dips it lower, stroking until he feels coarse hair under his thumb. Then, he's sliding his other hand up and down Steve's hairy thigh. More hair. Hair for days.

In fact, Steve’s chest hair is damp and right in Eddie’s face. It’s driving him a little wild. Steve spent so many years shaved, that this has been a goddamn turn on. Eddie leans forward and buries his face in Steve's chest.

Steve just laughs, and pushes Eddie back down, nipping at Eddie’s neck playfully, “S’good out here.”

“Think of the air conditioning. And the big, big bed.”

“This is bed-like,” Steve insists, reaching over and hitting the lever sending the chaise flat. The unsteady metal legs wobble comically and Eddie laughs as Steve topples over on top of him ungracefully. It's a nice change of pace, since Eddie often feels like he's the ungraceful one nearly everywhere but in the water. Always one wrong move from a trip to the E.R., while Steve stands by, shaking his head. 

Eddie’s fairly certain this flimsy-ass chair can't hold their combined weight indefinitely, even without Steve trying to fuck him through it. But he still runs his fingers through Steve’s hair, pulling him closer, encouraging him. 

He'll ride this train into the ground, without question. 

Steve closes his eyes, and grinds down against him.

Eddie grips Steve’s hips, resting his fingers against Steve’s ass, cupping him through the Speedo. When he squeezes his fingers underneath the tight material, Steve opens his eyes to meet Eddie’s, and Eddie just raises an eyebrow, questioning.

“By all means,” Steve answers, lifting up enough for them to work together to get it shimmed off his ass.

It isn’t easy. Removing a wet Speedo never is, and Steve’s wallering him in the process. Eddie almost takes a knee to the nuts, but they finally get it peeled off Steve's hips and tossed onto the ground. 

Steve unties Eddie’s trunks and pulls the Velcro closure apart loudly. He snakes his hand inside and closes his fist around him, and Eddie can’t help but buck up into the tight grip. 

“Fuck, Steve,” Eddie pants, leaning back further, enjoying the feeling.

Steve smiles and leans forward, chasing him, licking a path of sweat off of Eddie’s chest. It makes Eddie shiver unexpectedly and he can’t stop himself from tangling his hand in Steve’s hair. Urging him lower. Steve takes the hint. He always does.

He pushes apart Eddie's trunks, getting himself better access, and Eddie lifts up, to let him tug them down a little further, but not all the way off. 

Eddie groans when Steve’s mouth makes contact with his dick.

He rests his hand on Steve's head, feeling every movement from above and below. Steve's a gold medal cocksucker, that's for goddamn sure. 

"That's good, sweetheart," Eddie says, and Steve hums in acknowledgement, head moving up and down, hand doing the rest of the work in tandem. 

Eddie slides his hand down to Steve's face, pressing his palm to his stubbly cheek, and Steve changes the angle, so the head of Eddie's dick now hits the inside of his cheek with every bob of his head, bumping against Eddie's palm.

Steve's teasing him, playing with him, but it's fucking hot. 

So hot, and it's all Eddie can take, honestly, and he arches his hips off the chair, coming. 

Steve pulls off, and makes eye contact as he swipes his tongue around his mouth, gathering up Eddie's come on his tongue, which he shows Eddie, before swallowing.

"You're gonna kill me," Eddie says, as he moves to wrap his hand around Steve's hard dick, but Steve holds up one finger, wagging it at him. 

And then he slides fully on top of Eddie, and ruts into his hip. Using Eddie to get himself off.

Jesus H. Christ. 

Retired Steve is his favorite version, so far. Even more than top of the podium Steve. Or secret locker room blowjob Steve.

This version? His to keep? This is the one. 

Steve's breathing heavy into Eddie's ear, hot puffs of air and soft moans that make Eddie wish he could get hard again right now. Eddie digs his fingers into Steve's slick back, just along for the ride. Getting to enjoy the sights and sounds of Steve working hard. Breath catching with exertion. 

It's so familiar, and yet, brand new.

Steve lets out a groan in Eddie's ear, and then comes inside Eddie's shorts, and that's a new feat, for sure. 

Steve clearly doesn't give a fuck if he glues himself to Eddie's pubic hair, as he lays down on Eddie fully. Naked, sated and happy. This is the kind of hot Eddie isn't going to complain about. 

He almost says so, when he feels the whoosh of air blow past his arm before there’s a splash in the pool. He freezes. He doesn’t dare open his eyes, even if he’s certain it’s only Gareth. Maybe Robin, if he's really unlucky.

Steve's house has a revolving door. You never know who's gonna show up, unannounced.

And Eddie can't help it, he flushes even further, cheeks red and hot, totally embarrassed. 

When Eddie finally cracks an eye open, he laughs when he sees Gareth standing in the pool, right at the edge. Arms folded, head resting on them. Staring right at Eddie. Gareth has no shame and doesn’t get embarrassed easily, if ever. 

Just like Steve, honestly.

How he's surrounded himself with these two, he's not exactly sure.

"Whatcha guys been doin'?" Gareth drawls out, like he can't see Steve's bare ass in his face and know exactly what they were doing. 

Gareth's caught them fucking in several countries at this point. This is nothing. It's not even in the top ten most compromising positions he's seen them in. But still. Eddie could do without it, for sure.

Gareth's dog, Bonzo, is prancing around poolside, barking and jumping, just as hyper as his owner.

Steve just shakes his head, leaning over and picking up his discarded Speedo and walks back towards the house, like it’s no big deal to be walking around the backyard, totally naked. It's nothing Gareth hasn't seen before, to be certain. They've all spent far too many years together, in far too many locker rooms. 

Still, Eddie lifts his hips, and gets his trunks back up and securely fastened. He’s not about to get caught naked if he can help it. Unlike Steve, he does have some shame, and doesn’t exactly desire his junk getting featured on TMZ.

Some days, Eddie thinks Steve's just daring them to run dick pics of him. Probably because he knows what he's packing, and nobody in their right mind is gonna give his dick bad press. 

Definitely not Eddie. No way.

Eddie is about to get up, when Bonzo seizes the opportunity for the freed up premium seating, and jumps up onto Eddie’s lap.

Eddie hears the chair give way before he feels it. Soon enough they’re both falling to the ground. It’s a short fall, but Eddie still scrapes his elbow on the concrete and Bonzo shoots him daggers as if this whole mess was Eddie's fault, as the dog darts away from the scene of the crime, and towards the house, trying to catch up with Steve.

Steve clearly saw it happen, and he’s doubled over laughing near the sliding glass doors, still naked, and Eddie really doesn’t find it all that funny. 

“Fuck you, asshole, that hurt!” Eddie yells across the yard as he awkwardly untangles himself from the wreckage. Steve just laughs harder, and as much as Eddie wants to, it’s hard for him to stay mad at Steve.

Eddie gets up and surveys the collapsed heap of vinyl and aluminum. It looks like it's a total loss, and that does make Eddie smile, fully thankful that the chair from hell finally met its overdue end.

He jogs to catch up with Steve, hoping to slide in the shower with him, where Steve will kiss his wounded pride all better, and maybe go for round two. 

Notes: Song is Permanent 99 by Christian Kane. It's not on Spotify, or I'd just embed it. Gareth's dog is Bonzo, after John Bonham. Because I still like to think he's a drummer in this world, and that still plays with Eddie here, too. They just took their focus elsewhere.

This is the kind of chair I'm talking about, which they're still making apparently?! I had no idea.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddiemas and follow along!

If you want to see more of my entries from this challenge, they are in my tag right here!

#steddiemas #steddiemasnaughtylist #“Is this seriously turning you on?” #steddie #steddie ficlet #olympic au #swimmer steve harrington #swimmer eddie munson #gareth is a little shit #gareth stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things fic #thisapplepielife: short fic #thisapplepielife: steddiemas

[piratefishmama]

Eddie actually being Wayne's son though.

Stay with me here, Wayne is the nicer brother. He never had any of those nasty tendencies like Al did, wasn't trying to make a quick buck doing something shady, an he was always there picking up the pieces whenever Eddie's mother wound up suffering Al's bullshit.

Now, it was easy to fake it, to convince Al that Eddie was his, Al wasn't the brightest spark, an it was safer for Wayne too, who'd really only slept with her once, one night of drinking, laughing, joking, and her admitting that she'd wished she'd met him first, foolish, drunk one night stand born of wishes for a different life and enough alcohol to forget the one they'd actually been living, and nine months later out popped Eddie.

Al didn't even question it, his nerd of a brother? Nah, he didn't have it in him to get with HIS woman.

Maybe his swimmers weren't as lame as he thought they were. Maybe the drugs he'd been taking for years hadn't left him shooting blanks like he'd feared they had.

He had a kid! Definitely his, even though he stayed skinny like his uncle, found interests in nerd stuff like his uncle, in storytelling and theatrics.

Definitely Al Munson's son right there.

But actually, Eddie was Wayne's biological son.

It was obvious, too, as he grew up. Always the soft hearted one, the gentleman, the storyteller, the theatric little nerd. He grew tall and sturdy like Wayne, rather than broad and rotund like Al, he got his mother's hair and her eyes too but everything else?

It's all Wayne.

This is my hc now OK bye.

#Eddie Munson #wayne munson #Wayne being his actual biological father #while Eddie just thinks hes his uncle #wayne knows cause ofc he does #Al's been shooting blanks for years #its not hard to connect the dots #hes just glad Al is a dumb fuck.

[lostgirlfandom]

Warrior Queen

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Henderson!Reader

Warnings: violence, mentions of injuries, afab reader

Word Count: 1.1k

Summery: Eddie is starting to realize how perfect Dustin's older sister is perfect for him... maybe even his soulmate.

Getting trapped in the Upside Down was not your idea of a fun Spring Break, but here you were. You jumped after Nancy when she jumped into the lake after Steve. While not the best swimmer, you did your best to follow down until you saw the glowing red beacon at the bottom of the lake. You climbed through and huffed from holding your breath and looked around and spotted Nancy running towards a group of flying things around something on the ground. That something was Steve.

You took off as fast as you could and when getting close you found an oar from a decaying boat and grabbed it.  

“Fuck.” Was hissed behind you as you hurried over to Nancy, closely followed by Eddie and Robin.  

You started to wack at the flying evil bastards that screeched and tried to get at you and the others. Grunting with excursion, you had hit away a few of the bat looking creatures. You caught one out of the corner of your eye speeding at Eddie who was busy with another one. “Oh, no you don’t” You whispered as you rushed over and taking the oar like a sword and bringing it down on the bat to the ground. Stepping on it, you raised the oar and stabbed the bat in the head, crushing it.  

“Holy fuck.” Was huffed out from behind you and you looked behind you to see Eddie standing there looking at you in awe.  

You took a deep breath and looked around to see the others finishing off the last of the bats.  

You glanced back at Eddie who was still staring at you in awe, making your mouth twitch with a small grin.

Turning to walk over to the others who were panting like you and Eddie from beating the shit out of the bats.  

Next thing you know, you were hiding near Skull Rock with the others as you watched more of those bats flew overhead. Huddling close to the rock with the others, you sighed and leaned against the side of it with your legs crossed. Leaning your head back and closing your eyes, wondering how you got into this shit in the first place... oh, that’s right. Dustin’s your younger brother.  

“Hey,” Eddie’s voice came whispered next to you as Nancy wrapped up Steve’s wounds and Robin was rambling about rabies nervously. You turned your head and opened your eyes to look at him and found him admiring your face. “I want to uh- I want to say thank you... you know, for back there.” He pointed back where you came from with his thumb before fidgeting with his hands. You smiled softly, thinking it was cute that he fidgeted like you did.  

“No problem. I wasn’t gonna let those evil bastards get you.” You said softly as you looked down and pulled down your sweater sleeves.  

He gave a small, huffed laugh, “Still... that was badass, the way you brought that thing down like you had a sword, like woosh!” He made a movement with both hands like you did with the oar. “Very Aragorn of you..” he paused and rushed out. “That’s from Lord of the-”

“Rings, yeah I know. Kinda wish I had Anduril right now too.” You gave a giggle as you looked up at him. He looked at you with even more admiration.  

“You’ve read Lord of the Rings?” He asked with surprise.  

You grinned and tilted your head at him. “How do you think Dustin got into it?” You said as you stood up to join the others in talking about a plan.  

Not noticing as he watched you go with a huge smile. “I think I’m in love.” He whispered before walking over to a rock.  

-

A little while later you were walking to Nancy’s house cause apparently, she had guns, with Nancy and Robin taking the lead and you walking with Steve and Eddie. You had zoned out, trying not to step on any of the vines that were spread everywhere when you got clued in on Steve and Eddie talking... well Eddie rambling and Steve listening.  

“That was very Ozzy of you.” Eddie told Steve. “Super badass.”

Steve frowned his eyebrows and glanced at Eddie. “Ozzy?”

Just as Eddie opened his mouth to answer, you broke in. “Ozzy Osbourne...? He bit the head off of a bat during a live gig...?” You asked with a bemused grin on your face.  

Steve still looked confused.  

“He’s the lead singer of Black Sabbath! Steve, you’ve listened to them with me before!” You said through a laugh. Not noticing that Eddie had another awed look on his face as you spoke.  

Steve looked at you through narrowed eyes. “Y/N, I don’t remember all those bands you’ve made me listen to!” He waved his hands up like he was making his point.  

You looked at him with a bitch face. “Oh, come on. Led Zeppelin?” He shook his hand back and forth like ‘so-so’. “Alice Cooper?” He shook his head. “Iron Maiden?” He shook his head again. “Oh, come on!” You through your hands up as you shook your head. “I’ve taught you better than that!” You said through a laugh. Steve had an amused grin on his face while Eddie was looking at you with a dopey look on his face as he grinned. You jokingly acted like you storming ahead while Steve chuckled at you.  

Steve and you had become friends when he protected your brother from the demo-dogs, and while you have nothing in common, you still were one of his best friends alongside Robin.  

While you walked between the girls ahead of you, and the boys behind you, you didn’t hear Steve’s and Eddie’s conversation about Nancy going in after Steve.  

But Steve started to notice Eddie staring at your back. Looking from you and to Eddie and back again, he grinned.  

“She’s single... you should ask her out.” Steve said to him nonchalantly. Eddie blinked and looked over at Steve, with a mild panic attack going on in his head as he stared at Steve wide eyed.  

“What?!” His voice had gone up an octave before he cleared his throat and took a deep breath. He tried to act nonchalant back, “I mean, what? No... I mean, no..” He sighed and shook his head before looking at your back. “She is like.... so” he said with a huffing laugh. “So... Out of my league.” He said and then gulped as he stared at you.

Steve looked at him bemusement. “What? No, Y/n is so cool, and she doesn’t care about the social bullshit and just likes what she likes.” He glanced at you before looking at Eddie. “She’d say yes.” He said simply. “I think she likes you. Plus, you guys have a lot in common.” He gave Eddie a grin as Eddie didn’t take his eyes off you.  

Yeah... He was done for.

#eddie munson fluff #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x henderson!reader #eddie munson x female reader #female reader #stranger things one shot #stranger things imagine #reader insert #fandom one shot #fandom imagine #eddie x reader #henderson reader

[ladykailitha]

Never Hold Back Your Step... Part 8

Hello! It does look like there is only one more chapter to write on Paper Hearts so yay!!! I'm not sure how much longer Sweet Home Indiana is but it's nearing it's end too.

Steve is never going to go to another party after this, Eddie gets book two of the Boy with a Bat, and they have a frank discussion about how Eddie gets paid for his less than legal side gig.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

trigger warning: homophobic language by an OC.

****

At least the swim team knew to how to throw a party. Lyle was hosting and even though his family wasn’t well off, not like Steve’s parents, there was still enough room for the whole team and a few of their friends to have a good time.

Granted there wasn’t any booze, not openly anyway, but there were ice chest after ice chest of canned sodas. And all kinds, too. Steve was on his third Coke and had already sussed out the dude with the beer and was working his way over.

Going right up to the guy was asking for trouble that neither of them wanted.

The music wasn’t too loud, but you could dance to it in the main part of the house. People were actually laughing and having fun.

Which really should have been Steve’s cue. The universe was out to get him and wouldn’t let him have a moment’s peace.

He had almost reached the guy with the beer when Ezra blocked his path.

“Hey, Steve,” he greeted syrupy sweet. “I’m so glad you made it out. I wasn’t sure if you would come without Eddie Munson.”

Steve frowned and tried to move around his co-captain. “I go lots of places without Eddie. I went to nationals without him, didn’t I?”

Ezra put his hand on Steve’s chest to stop him. “Sure you did, but we didn’t win nationals now, did we?”

Steve looked down at the hand on his chest. “We swam our hearts man, the other teams were just better. Hell, that team from Georgia was on fire.”

Ezra snorted and rolled his eyes. “They only got where they were because they were black. They didn’t have any real talent. Not like us. Not like you and me, Steve.”

“Are you saying Lyle and Nick held us back?” he asked with his brow furrowing deeper in his confusion.

“We’ve always known that Lyle is a strong swimmer and not a fast one,” Ezra moaned waving the drink in his other hand around. “But he’s all this shit town has on offer.”

Steve gently pushed Ezra off of him. “Hey, how about not talking shit about the actual host, man.”

Ezra rolled his eyes. “Whatever,” he huffed. “That’s not even why I’m over here. I’m here to warn you about Munson.”

And there it was. Everyone in his life had felt the need at some point in the last six months to warn him off the super senior.

The other boy leaned in close, his lips a snarl. “He’s a queer, a little faggot boy,” he hissed, the spit landing on Steve’s face. “It’s the town’s worst kept secret.”

Ice slid down Steve’s spine. Oh shit. Of all the places he thought the other co-captain was going to go, that was not it. Drugs. DND. The ranting on table tops. All that slid away to sheer terror.

“And you better not bend over in the showers,” Ezra continued, “a pretty thing like you would just be his type.”

Steve’s eyes went wide. “Wha–what do you mean?”

“Everyone knows that if you can’t pay for your weed,” Ezra sneered, “that he’s willing to take a blowjob as payment instead.” He leaned further into Steve’s space, so that they were almost touching, the stench of weed radiating off the other boy in waves. “I saw Harry Masters sucking him off for a gram of the good stuff.”

Steve stomach lurched and swooped, bile rising up in his throat. Harry Masters was on the baseball team. He was tall, good looking, with that devil may care charm of Rob Lowe. Looked like him, too.

“What he does or doesn’t do doesn’t effect me, man,” he said, trying to aim for nonchalant and missing by a mile.

Ezra laughed in his face.

“Dude,” he cackled, “if you didn’t want people to think you’re down bad for ‘the Freak’ maybe rein in the eye fucking. I’ve seen the way you look at him and it makes me sick.”

That was when Steve got it. He had been wondering what the hell this conversation was.

“Oh my god!” he laughed. “Fuck, man, you were scaring me for a second there. You’re just jealous I don’t have the hots for you.”

Ezra pushed him. “The fuck I do, Harrington!”

“No, no!” Steve crowed. “I’ve got it all figured it out. All the times I caught you staring at me, all the times I felt someone watching me, all the times you’d try to keep me late after practice. You wanted me all to yourself.”

His co-captain turned purple with rage and swung at Steve, but before he could even flinch, there was someone at his side, holding Ezra’s wrist to keep the hit from even going anywhere near Steve’s face.

“Eddie!” Steve breathed. “What are you doing here?”

Eddie smiled at him with that soft dimpled grin Steve loved. “Hey ya, Stevie. I was just plying my wares when I heard the commotion and came over to make sure you were all right.”

“So you are my good luck charm,” Steve said brightly.

Ezra wrenched his arm out of Eddie’s hand. “This doesn’t concern you, Freak!”

Eddie leaned in close and cocked his head to the side. “It does, because you were talking shit about me and Stevie, here. And as Stevie’s good friend, I’mma gonna come to his rescue. Now, you’re going to skedaddle on home and sleep all this off.”

Ezra spat in his face. “Or what?”

The older teen just smiled menacingly. “Or else that gram you smoked will be the last you ever smoke, because I’ll report to you for doping for matches.”

Ezra paled and he gulped. “You can’t do that! I’ve never done anything but weed.”

“That’s true,” Eddie admitted. “But they’d have to do this big investigation and your name would be dragged through the mud. Or you could toddle off and go to college and leave this town in your rearview mirror.”

Ezra turned on his heel and ran out of the house as if the hounds of hell were on his tail.

Steve shook his head. “You do know this is where all the allegations about you being a devil worshiping cult leader come from, right?”

Eddie threw back his head and laughed. “They can think all they want.”

*

Eddie and Steve talked about what Ezra had said about how people make payments for their weed.

“I won’t deny that people have offer to blow me or even have sex with me in exchange for drugs,” Eddie said as they lay curled up on his bed. “But I’ve never taken anybody up on that.”

Steve twisted his head to look up at his boyfriend. “I can’t say I’m not pleased to hear that, but is there a reason why?”

“Several,” he admitted pulling Steve in closer. “One is that there is an actual fucking pandemic going on regarding gay men, and I wouldn’t trust those assholes even with a condoms. Another is that if I say yes to one, then I’ve got to say yes to next guy. And as my supplier wants actual cash for his product, blow jobs aren’t currency in any country I know of. And despite what Ezra said, most of the people offering aren’t men.”

Steve hummed as he snuggled under Eddie’s chin. “I can see that. Any other reasons why you won’t?”

“Does having a super hot boyfriend count?” he chuckled.

Steve kissed the underside of his jaw. “That’s a very good reason.” His hand slipped down his boyfriend’s side and to his belt. “A super hot boyfriend who is very grateful for the rescue.”

Eddie moaned as Steve’s fingers ghosted over his zipper. “Yeah and how are you going to show that gratitude?”

Steve slid down Eddie body and undid his belt. “I was thinking it was such a shame you didn’t get those blow jobs when your cock is so delectable.”

Eddie gasped and threw back his head as his super hot boyfriend’s breath felt hot on the front of his boxers. “God, baby. Show me what you’ve got.”

And Steve spent their evening doing just that.

*

Steve fidgeted nervously at Eddie’s locker after school. He had finished the most recent comic with only a week of school to spare. He had made sure that Jonathan and Nancy weren’t staying after school for any reason so they didn’t see him make the hand off. He knew he should have just done it at the trailer, but with him cutting it so fine before the end of the year, he didn’t want to make Jeff and the others wait for it.

Eddie loped over to his boyfriend and looked around. “Hey, sweetheart. You okay?”

He thrust the comic at Eddie, his eyes downcast. “It’s the most recent comic. There’s an explanation like before. But please don’t let people see that part.”

Eddie cradled the comic to his chest. “I’ll be careful, I promise. I’m guessing this means you aren’t coming over tonight?”

Steve shook his head. “Lucas wants to go see the latest Bond film, but his friends don’t want to go with him...”

“So you offered to take him,” Eddie finished. “That’s sweet of you.”

Steve snorted and shook his head. “His parents think I’m taking him to ‘Meet the Littles’ or some shit like that.”

Eddie threw back his head and laughed. “Yeah, that’s more like the Steve Harrington I know and love.”

“I’ll call when I get home, though...” he muttered, running his fingers through his hair.

“Okay,” Eddie murmured. “Well talk then.”

*

This time Eddie went straight to the back page to read the explanation first.

“Hey, Eds,

Again there are parts in between this, parts that don’t include me, that I’ll some day tell you all about. But I’m focusing on the parts I was part of. This time it all started with what the kids thought was a new species of lizard and turned out to be the beginning stages of an Upside Down monster. One they they dubbed the demodog.

I can just picture you frowning as you try to remember where you heard that from and the answer is you heard it from me. You asked me what it was and I told you it from one of their game thingies, but that’s only part of it. These demodogs have flower faces and run on four legs. They are part of a hive mind that allows them to communicate with each other.

Dustin had taken one of these things home and it ate his cat. His cat. You can be disgusted, I know I was. He had originally gone to Nancy’s for help but she had gone off with Jonathan about something related to Barb Holland. This was right after our fight at the Halloween party.

I was on my way with roses to apologize to her, when he intercepted me. And the rest is as they say is history. I would do anything for that kid now.

The other players are Lucas Sinclair and Max Mayfield. I don’t know if you need to know that, but I feel like you have to understand that for the rest of it to make sense.

I have so many tales to tell you but I can’t because it could get you hurt and that is the last thing I want to do.

Also, (blurred words) show you all the times I was brave, that I did the (more blurred words) when it came (blurred words) because I love you so much and (blurred words again) less of me.

Love,

Your Stevie”

Eddie hated how easy Steve had pegged him for frowning at the name like he said he would or how he knew he would be disgusted at the poor cat. He stared at the blurred words for a moment before his own eyes welled up.

Steve had tried writing over the parts with what were clearly tear drops but all it had done was make it worse. Why he didn’t just write again, Eddie didn’t know.

But Eddie could now make out the words, “Also, I wanted to show you all the times I was brave, that I did the right thing when it came to it, because I love you so much and I didn’t want you thinking less of me.”

He flipped back to the beginning and started reading. It was thrilling and exciting. That was if you didn’t know it really happened. And happened to the sweetest boy he had the privilege of knowing.

He wiped away his tears and made a promise to whatever it took to protect this boy with every fiber of his being. Because by god, someone had to.

****

Tag List: @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

@spectrum-spectre @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson

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#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #boy with a bat

[katyawriteswhump]

Freestyle love (Steddie holiday drabble)

Written for @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 22 prompt, Sports AU.

Nobody ever wanted Eddie Munson on their swim squad, and uni competition was no different. Until Steve Harrington decided to play by the rules.

WC: 966. Rating: T.

CW: none really. Tags: Enemies to lovers, whump, university/college AU.

***

"Munson's freestyle times smash half the teams.'" Steve pushed his wet hair from his eyes, double-checked the stopwatch. “He’s in."

"That science geek pond-scum?” asked Steve's swim co-captain, standing with him beside the pool. "No way. You read the numbers backwards again, Harrington?"

"Shut up. I’m calling this one."

When Steve broke the news, Munson pulled off his swim-cap and a mass of dark, damp hair tumbled out. “One of your teammates said my tats automatically disqualify me,” said Munson.

“That’s bullshit.” Steve actually found Munson’s freaky tattoos bizarrely compelling. Oh, and the body beneath—all lean rope-like muscle, not massive shoulders, but a decent swimmer’s physique. “We need you. You beat most of the sports scholarship guys.”

“I know.” Munson shrugged. “And you can take my place on your dumb squad and stuff it up their buttholes.”

“What the heck, man? Why did you trial, if you don’t want in?”

“To show you over-privileged frat-house dicks you ain’t special. I qualify every year—you’re just the first knucklehead to notice. Anyhooo.” He poked his tongue out stupidly. Steve planted his hands on his hips and couldn’t glare harder. “I’m off to Who Soc.”

“What Soc?”

Munson’s shoulder clipped Steve’s as he passed—possibly an accident, but he nearly toppled Steve into the pool.

“Screw you, man! Crawl back to your den of Satanist freaks, like I care.”

“Yeah?” Munson poked out his tongue again, wiggled his fingers. “Hexing you, Harrington. Oooooh, bet you’re pissing yourself.”

***

Eddie had simply been getting one back for the little guys, against all those over-pumped numbskulls. 

He still felt bad when he heard what happened at the inter-state semis—some moron dived into the pool on top of Harrington in the shallow end, breaking his leg.

It bugged Eddie. So much he wound up visiting Steve at the hospital.

When Eddie sidled into Steve’s room, Steve’s pale face—peeking from behind his plastered leg in traction—said it all: What the heck?

“Hey,” mumbled Eddie. “Guess I’m the last person you expected.”

“On my list of expected visitors, you were somewhere below Elvis.” Harrington seemed pissed. Also genuinely bewildered.

He was still sexy as hell.

Especially now Eddie couldn’t find it in his cold, metal-loving heart to hate the guy. Mmmm, and was it kinda wrong to wanna lick those well-muscled arms, and picture him shirtless… even when Harrington glowered at him from a hospital bed?

Eddie raised his palms in half-hearted surrender. “I owe you an explanation. I’ve been doing swim trials since Middle School. My time is always good—the place I grew up in was right by a lake—yet nobody ever gave me my place on the squad before. This face never fits.” He gurned a silly grin. “Then you went and flew in the face of all the laws in the universe and offered me ‘in.’ I guess it... blew me away.”

“I was only following the goddamn rules.” Steve grumpily puffed his flatter-than-usual hair from his eyes.

“Yeah, and I was a dick, and the Hex thing was dumb. I didn’t really… you know…”

“I don’t blame you for my stupid accident.” Steve rolled his eyes. “Contrary to popular opinion, I'm not a complete moron. I'm scraping a pass in English Lit, okay?” As the atmosphere softened, Eddie shuffled nearer Steve’s bed. “Good job. Who's gonna keep me here on a sports scholarship now?”

“Sorry, man.”

“Jesus, it’s not your fault!” Up close, Harrington looked exhausted, possibly even in pain, with dark smudgy shadows around his eyes. “You know, you can do something to make this less shit.”

Eddie’s heart squeezed oddly—gratefully? “What?”

“Take my place in the squad.” Steve mumbled toward hands clasped in his lap. “I recorded your times, made it official. The place is yours to claim. I'd tell the team myself… if any of them came to visit.”

“You’re kidding?”

“Nobody’s got time for a swim co-captain who’ll never swim competitively again.” 

A lump clogged Eddie’s throat. Harrington’s face worked strangely, too… Shit, shit, shit! Eddie reached out, tentatively squeezed Steve’s shoulder. Steve looked up sharply, eyes large and liquid. Damn, the boy was tense.

“That stinks,” said Eddie.

“Yeeeah.” Steve’s laugh was shaky, while Eddie’s mind raced: 

“Dude, I’m in a ton of non-sports societies. D & D, model-making, Who Soc… Uh, maybe not that one for you. I can bring a few of the guys and gals here, see if you get into anything.”

“I don’t need YOU to find me friends.” Harrington’s spikiness proved short-lived. He unleashed a resigned sigh: “Look, man, I’m not exactly in the mood for parties, but… If you wanna come back… that would be cool.”

Suddenly, neither of them could look at each other. Eddie’s face was burning. Could he actually be into me?

“Tho’ if you’re not fresh from swim practice when you arrive, I’m not interested, Munson.”

Eddie hooted: “You blackmailing me?”

“I can play dirty, ya know, buck expectations, too.” Steve went in for the kill. He smiled up at Eddie, a proper, hot-as-hell smile, which reached his too-pretty brown eyes. 

Is he hitting on me?!? Eddie gawked like a goldfish.

“See you tomorrow?”

***

On the day of the national finals, Steve watched from the stands. When Eddie slammed home for victory on the final leg of the freestyle relay, Steve was on his feet—okay, propped by his crutches—cheering his head off.

As soon as Eddie could get away, he clambered, wet and dripping, through to the rear of the stands and planted an even wetter kiss on Steve's lips. Steve threw his arms around his boyfriend. It was great to finally be with somebody to whom only the real things in life mattered. 

"Love you, Champ," he whispered in Eddie’s ear.

"Love you, too." Eddie kissed him again.

Victory had never felt so hot.

***

Thanks for reading :) Also part of my steve whump fic series (mainly steddie) on ao3

#steddieholidaydrabbles #steve x eddie #steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington whump #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie fanfic #stranger things fanfic

[queenimmadolla]

It’s crazy how you were just trying to buy some groceries, then this happened.

We gotta release baby Penny from the shackles of Eddie Munson ✊😔 but I fear it might be too late AHHH-

It was too late the moment one of his swimmers succeeded.

You really can’t turn your back to Eddie without expecting him to put Penny on display in anyway. He can’t help it! Look, you’ve mentioned loving his eyes before—quite a few times and he’s taken advantage of it whenever he could, batting his eyelashes at you to get you to stop being mad at him, the puppy dog stare to get you to cave into his whim (and also get him into your good graces). The point is, he was very aware of how pretty you thought his eyes were, though he never really got the big deal. Fond of them, sure, because his Uncle Wayne always told him he’d had his mother’s eyes, and he could see the uncanny resemblance in photos he had of her—still wasn’t a big deal.

Until you’d had Penny. From the first moment he held her, cradled against his chest and curled in on herself as though she were still in your womb, pulling herself from her own exhaustion to open her eyes and stare up at him, Eddie understood. Eddie finally got it, knew what you saw.

He’d been expecting them to be big—could tell even with her eyelids shut, thanks to how they almost seemed to bulge and take up a good amount of her face, but he hadn’t been expecting the innocence in them, her chocolate gaze luring him in, easily uprooting everything he considered of importance to him—music, art, teenage dreams—and taking their place. And she did it all with a few blinks. Eddie was finally a victim to his own eyes, staring back at him from such a precious, new face.

He fucking loved it. Loved her.

She’s so damn cute, he literally cannot stop staring at her. He’s a obsessed. And he’s proud. You made her, but he helped! He fertilized that egg, she’s a perfect mixture of the both of you, and with the newness of it all—he’s just gotta share! Camera in a grocery store??? HELL YEAH.

He’s holding her right up to it, LOOK AT HER!!!!! LOOK AT WHAT HE HELPED MAKE!!! LOOK AT THOSE ANGEL EYES AND LOVE HER, RIGHT! NOW!

Meanwhile, there’s not a single thought in your sweet little babies head, she is but a mere puppet for Eddie’s antics. His little babydoll bestie.

She’s lucky she was born before The Lion King came out. You know damn well what scene he would constantly re-create with your baby, and force his friends to get in on.

You’re no better, if you’re holding her, you will always find your way to a mirror so penny can see how cute-beautiful-gorgeous she is and say something like, “That you,” or “Oh my goodness, who is that beautiful little angel??? Is that you??? Are you mama’s pretty girl? Yeah, you’re mama’s angel, huh? Aw, so pretty! The prettiest girl around.” And you do it all the time because Penny gives you that gummy grin, loves it when you tell her how pretty she is or just when you use that baby talk tone.

#$ replies #pennyverse asks #pennyverse headcanons #pennyverse #Eddie munson #dad!eddie munson #girl dad!eddie munson #Eddie munson x reader #dad!eddie munson x mom!reader #new dad!eddie munson