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aylasrants · 2 months ago

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@georgeweasleyslostearhq i think you’re talking about this one, the original account has been deleted but I found this reblog, hope it helps!!

Next caller.

《 Pairings: College!Eddie Munson x shyfem!reader

《 Summary: Eddie hosts a late night radio show for his college campus, where he discusses various different topics. He's mostly known for his DnD and sex talk segments. You've been a long-time listener who works up the courage to finally call in for some help.

《 Warnings: Smut, 90s!Eddie, he's around 24 here. Phone sex, dirty talk, voyeurism, masturbation (female), sex toys. Eddie refers to the reader as sweetheart, good girl, and Miss caller. I didn't want to use y/n, so he's given you some pet names instead.

Word count: 3.9k

A/N: Please reblog, comment, and like to show support. Not proofread. Please ignore mistakes.

18+ no minors

Year 1990

Eddie was in his final semester of college with a very popular radio show. He became pretty much well-known on campus overnight. His radio show is known as "The Munson Experience," and it slowly became an overnight hit.

Fans of DnD tuned in for his hour of lore telling and tips on how to build up your fantasy world. Metal heads tuned in for his controversial opinions on bands. Others listened specifically for his special segments in regard to the topic of sex. Boyfriends called for advice on dating and different ways to get their girls off. Girlfriends called him to give thank you's and ask what they could do to repay the favor. He would have callers tell him their most outrageous stories.

Eddies show became popular very fast after he introduced his sex segment. He even became some what of celebrity at your college. He never used a different name or tried to use any type of anonymity. He didn't care if people knew him for his show or even liked him for it.

He was unapologetically himself at all times. You seen him around campus walking from one lecture to the next. Eddie would always wear an old band tee with the sleeves cut off, turning into a muscle tank. He liked showing off his tattoos. One arm fully covered in dark ink all the way down to the top of his hand. The other arm had a few tattoos scattered here and there. His hair was almost past his shoulders, and he had a small nose ring in his left nostril.

You'd always watch from afar as people would approach him to make small talk. The guys rushed over to invite him to their house partylies and girls giving out their personal phone numbers. It was no secret that Eddie knew how to please women. You heard the stories, and judging by his advice on his show, you believed them. He would even share his own personal hook up stories sometimes during the segment.

You and Eddie only ever had one class last semester together, but he never even made a single glance your way. You never approached him either, opting to just admire from distance and make your way to class. Every evening, you did, however, turn on the radio to listen to his show. Truthfully, you only listened to hear his voice. You had no idea what he was rambling on about most of the time, but you didn't care. His barritone voice was like warm honey to your ears. You found comfort in listening to him every night before bed. It was strange how the moment his show started, your stress of the day just melted away.

One day, you were going to call him for help about something you had never told anymore before. You already felt like you could trust him with this sort of thing. You were determined to speak to him even if you had to confess never having had an orgasm before. You don't know why you're putting so much trust into him, but you have.

You were desperate for his help and attention if you're going to be honest. You would lay in bed daydreaming about being in those other girls' shoes when he described what he did to them. How he would feel between your legs. Having his weight on top of you as you came undone beneath him.

Maybe you'll call in to his show tomorrow? What harm could it do? No one would even know it was you on the other line. You didn't have many friends on campus, so it's not like anyone would make the distinction so quickly. This would all be completely anonymous.

You just needed to speak with him. You never could work up the courage to talk to him in real life. You've always been too shy and easily intimidated. Eddie was a nice guy from what you could tell. There was nothing to be intimidated by at all. You would always get butterflies in your stomach when you saw him around. He made your stomach do flips when he flashed a smile, revealing the dimples in his cheeks. You could never work up the courage to ever approach him, so you just settle for your fantasies instead.

A few weeks went by, and you still haven't called. Not that you didn't try. You would call and hang up when you heard what you assumed was an assistant answer the phone. The moment you heard, "Thank you for calling in to the munson." You slammed the phone on the receiver. Not even letting the poor guy finish his sentence. This situation was driving you crazy you were convinced he could and would help with your problem. You assured yourself he was the only one who could because you didn't want anyone else to.

You mope around your shared home with your roommate, Monica. She could tell something was bothering you but never pressed on the issue. You two weren't the closest, but there was a mutual respect and love for one another. She'd try to get you to go out to parties with her but knew not to pressure you. The moment she heard a no, she left it at that, shrugging her shoulders and leaving you be.

"I can tell something is bugging you." she asked for the millionth time that week.

You sigh. "Im fine, I swear -- just little stressed." You put on a fake smile heading back to your room, leaving her to continue getting ready her date. Hoping she won't ask you again, you locked yourself away for the night. There was a light knock at your door, and you heard your roommates muffled voice from the other side. "I'll be back late. Get some sleep, okay?"

You ignore her as she leaves for the evening. Flopping yourself back against your pillows, you turned to look at your phone. Then, glance at your clock, it read 10:45 pm. It's almost time for his last segment of the night. Should you call? Would tonight be the night? You rolled over on your side, staring between the clock and your phone.

You sat up quickly, snatching the phone and dialing the numbers. Your heart already pumping with adrenaline when you hear the dial tone. A lump in your throat builds from nerves and excitement. Tonight was the night, and you were not going to chicken out this time. You hear the distinct voice on the other end of the call. "Thank you for calling into the munson experience. What are you calling in for."

You struggle to find your voice for a moment. The man on the other end is waiting for you to respond, and he almost hangs up, thinking it's another crank call. "I'm calling to speak to Eddie." You're voice barely even a whisper that you needed to repeat yourself three times. Eventually, they put you on hold while they got ready for his final segment. You exhale a deep breath you didn't even know you were holding in.

The sound of the music they put you on hold to cut off and your stomach drops. This was it you were finally going to do it. Not only were you going to speak to him, but you were also about to confess something that always made you feel embarrassed. You know it's nothing to be ashamed about truly. Judging by the countless women who called in with a similar problem looking for advice.

The music playing on the radio fades, and you hear him greet you."Hi, thank you for calling in. How can I be of assistance?"

You struggled to find your voice yet again.

"Hello? C'mon, don't be shy. This is a judgment free zone here." He leaned forward in his chair, getting closer to the microphone.

"Umm, hi, I was calling for something I think only you can help me with." You're clutching the phone in a tight grip against your ear. Your hands are shaking, and you hope no one can recognize you.

He leans back in his rolling chair. "And who am I speaking with."

"I....I'd rather not give you my name." You stammered. Your anxiety is building up, and you are so close to hanging up.

"That's okay. Well, keep this anonymous." He replied.

His brows raise for a moment as he listened to you talk. You sounded a little too familiar to him, and he has a sneaking suspension he might know who you are. He won't out you just in case he might be wrong and also respecting your wishes to remain anonymous.

You take a deep breath. "Well, you see, I've never...I don't know how to say this."

"You never what?" Have sex or something? " He asked, but his voice showed no emotions.

"No...I mean I'm not a virgin or anything like that. I just....I've had boyfriends, and anytime we did stuff, I never-- finished." You confessed to him.

His eyes widened for a moment, and he felt a pain of sadness in his heart. He could tell you were scared to reveal something so personal like that. Especially to him, a total stranger on a live radio show with hundreds of listeners. "You never had an orgasm before. Is that what you're trying to tell me?"

Pinching the bridge of your nose." Yes, that's what I'm telling you."

"Huh, okay, have you tried getting yourself off, at least?" He questioned, spinning around in his chair. His assistant, the other side of the room, listened Intently to the conversation.

"Well you see that's my problem anytime I tried to make myself cum I just kinda give up. I get so close and right when I'm there... I stop." You blurt out as you feel a weight being lifted from your shoulders.

He ponders for a moment before responding. "And how can I help you with this exactly? "

"Well, I was hoping you could guide me through it." Your face scrunching up as the words left your mouth. You knew this was a dumb idea from the start. He wasn't going to help you, and any moment now, you're waiting to hear him laugh at how ridiculous this is. There's a long, almost uncomfortable silence.

Eddie, on the other side of the line in his booth, is in utter disbelief. Sure, he definitely wants to guide you through that experience. What guy wouldn't? He just truly can not believe this was happening live on HIS show. His assistant kept mouthing no to him, knowing this could end badly. Eddie doesn't care he's doing it. He picks up his old bandana that's been discarded on the table and wipes sweat from his forehead. He nods back at the assistant, signaling hes going along with it whether people like it or not.

Picking up his yoyo, he props his feet up on the table in front of him. "You want me to help you cum?" Is that correct."

"Yes, that's what I want. I need you to help me any way you can." You're sounding more desperate than intended.

"Okay, well, miss caller. I think im the perfect guy for the job." He smiles tossing the yoyo back and forth to the palm of his hand.

You smile as the anxiety you felt early slowly fades away.

"What are we using tonight, sweetheart? Fingers or toys?" He asked tossing his yoyo aside.

"Umm, I have a toy I can use." You closed your eyes tight, answering his question.

"Do you want me to talk dirty to you while we do this, sweetheart? " He got his voice lower in the mic, causing your breath to hitch.

'Uhh, yes... I'd like that a lot, actually." You bite your lower lip, anticipating what he's planning.

A grin plastered on his face while his mouth gets unbelievably closer to the mic. His voice felt so close to your ear. Your skin prickles with goosebumps. "Are you laying back, sweetheart?"

"....uhh,yes, I'm laying in bed." Your voice shakey on the other end.

"Good girl, get nice and comfortable for me."

You involuntarily squeeze your thighs together when you hear him calling you a "good girl." You turn off your bedside light and let the warm glow from your candles set the mood.

"What are you wearing?" He asked, licking his lips.

"A shirt and panties." You replied, looking down at yourself.

"Yeah? wanna take those panties off for me." He continued on making his voice low and deep. Similar to his DM voice, he would put on during his DnD segments. A shiver runs down your spine, and you can feel yourself getting wetter. There is a small wet patch already forming on the thin lace material of your panties.

You moved and carefully dragged the delicate lace down your legs, tossing them across your room. "They're off."

"That's a good girl." He praised.

You lay there patiently waiting for him to continue.

"Can you be my good girl and grab that little toy you told me about?" He asked you, feeling himself growing hard as well. He still can't believe he's doing this but doesn't want to stop. "Do you have it?"

Reaching over to your bedside table, you open the drawer, grabbing the small vibrator.

"I got it." You whisper into the phone.

He readjusts in his seat, "Turn it on for me."

You do as he says and turn the small vibrator onto the lowest setting. That ball of nerves in the pit of your stomach creeps back in. You want to do this, but the thought of hundreds of people listening to you right makes you second guess the decision.

"On second thought, maybe this was a bad idea." You admit trying to fight back tears as a lump in your throat forms.

"No, no hey its okay. What's wrong?" He asked, sounding concerned.

"I--i just remembered there are people listening." You stumble over your words as you try not to cry. Feeling a little ridiculous that you're even going through with this.

He frowns to himself. " Listen, it's just me, and you okay? If you don't want to do this, I understand you can always hang up."

"NO!--I want to do this." You blurt out. Once again, there is a long pause as he's thinking of the right things to say. Eddie doesn't want to make you feel pressured. He wants this to be an enjoyable moment. "Shall we continue?"

"Yes, please." You spoke sofly.

"That's my good girl." He cooed.

You whimper lowly into the phone, but it doesn't go unnoticeable. He already knows how to get you riled up, and he hasn't even gotten started yet. "You like that, don't you?"

"You like it when I call you a good girl?" He teased.

You gulped into the phone." Yeah."

His assistant in the next room is chewing on his nails out of pure terror. He's never seen this happen before on a live radio show, and he just knows what a shit storm it could cause. Eddie doesn't seem to mind at all his focus and attention were strictly on you.

"I want you grab that toy and put it to your clit. Can you do that for me?" He gets his voice low again. Your nipples harden under the thin material of your shirt. You bring the vibrator to your sensitive bud and gasp when you feel the vibrations.

"Okay, sweetheart, now think of me between those thighs. Think of my lips wrapped around your clit sucking so so softly. Imagine my face buried between your legs.." He's breathing heavier into the mic. His cock getting painfully hard in his jeans "Are you thinking about it?"

"Mmm, y--yes I'm...I'm imagining you there." You gasp and moan in the phone.

"I know you must be soaked right now. I wish I was there with you, spreading you open with my tongue. I bet you taste so fucking good" He kept going his voice getting more seductive in your ear.

"Is this your first time thinking of me like this?"

A sly grin creeps up on his face as he probably already knows the answer.

"I bet you have. I'm sure you've seen me around our campus. You've probably wondered what it would be like having my thick cock deep inside you. I would make you cum so fucking hard." He's getting really into it now, and his heart races with excitement.

You sink further into your bed as the vibrator continues working on your clit. Your hips bucking up as you writhe on your blanks, taking in every word he spoke. The phone keeps falling from your ear the more relaxed you become. Your mind in a fog while you listen to him say the dirtiest things. No one has ever spoken to you like this before, not even your ex-boyfriends. "Hey, you there?"

You gasp, "Yes, I'm here."

"Great. I need you to try and keep the phone to your ear as best you can for this part. Now with your other hand, use your fingers to fuck yourself but keep that vibrator where it is, got it?" He sounded much more serious this time.

You kept the vibrator right where it was at while you gently brought two fingers to your entrance. You slide them between your wet folds, getting them covered in your juices. You bite your lower lip hard as you teased around your dripping pussy. You hear him groan in the other end of the phone and wonder if he's enjoying this just as much as you are. You gently dip your two fingers inside you, getting them as deep as they possibly could go. "Ooh! Fuck." You moaned in his ear.

"Yeah, that's it pretend your fingers are my cock sweetheart." His let out a shakey breath.

"I bet your so fucking tight. Just thinking about your tight pussy taking my cock is making me so hard." He's getting himself riled up.

He rubbs the back of his neck, trying to stay focused. "I'd have to take my time with you first. Working you open until you're ready to take all of me."

"Is it big?" You ask him meekly, panting into the phone while your fingers stretch you open.

"Fuck baby--id have you feeling so full." He groaned in the mic, struggling to keep himself composed. Clenching his jaw tight as he opens and closes his fists.

Eddies tries his best to resist rubbing himself over his jeans as he listened to you. He has to remember this isn't about him right now it's all about you. His sole purpose of the night is making you cum and he's determined you will.

Your fingers continue pumping in and out at a vigorous pace. The vibrator placed carefully on your sore bud while you try your best not to drop the phone again. "I can hear your dripping pussy from here."

His words turn you on even more, making you grow wetter for him. Your body is covered in beads of sweat as your face grows hot. Your pussy making a loud schlick noise with every pump of your fingers.

"Feel good?" He asked you with amusement etched in his tone.

"Yes, it feels so good." You let out weak pathetic response. "Oh my god!" You squealed into the phone. Desperately trying to keep it balanced between your head and shoulder. You're a moaning, whimpering mess, and you don't care how loud you're being. You've never felt like this before it's terrifying and thrilling all at the same time.

He laughs, rubbing his chin letting out a quiet grunt before speaking again, "You sound so sexy when you make those little noises."

His listeners are having a hard time distinguishing if he's getting himself off in the process or if he's just playing it up for the moment. They're used to his crazy antics, but this was something entirely new. They were all shocked and impressed they were getting to witness this.

Your fingers pumping harder as you curve them upwards to rub against that sweet spot on your walls. Your thighs shake as you arch your back off the bed. You imagined they were his cock instead pounding in and out of your pussy like this. You feel a tightness in your core building up, and you know you're getting close.

"You're getting close, aren't you?" He whispered seductively.

"S'close." You whined.

"That's it be a good girl and cum." Cum all over my cock." He groaned.

The vibrator on your clit helping to bring you closer to your release. You spread your legs them even further apart. You're moaning louder into the phone. You can't even hear Eddie's voice anymore. Fucking yourself with your fingers is becoming difficult the closer you are to your release. Your walls clenching up tightly around them, and your pulse quickening.

You plunge them in and out of your pussy faster. That coil in your tummy is getting tighter. The feeling is all too familiar, and you start to get scared. What if you can't get past this part? You're doubting yourself again. You let out a deep breath and relax your mind.

Your legs shut involuntarily, and the vibrator falls from between your thighs. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as your first ever orgasm rips through your body with so much intensity. Your vision goes black, and you stop breathing for a second. The phone lays abandoned next to your head, having dropped it long ago. You can hear Eddie's muffled voice calling out for you.

Tears begin pouring from the corners of your eyes. You couldn't help getting emotional after all of that. Not only was this your first time ever being able to have an orgasm, but the entirety of the situation was starting to set in. You felt amazing, and Eddie did such a great job helping you along the way. There were just some insecurities starting to creep in that you wanted to keep away. He's the only man that's ever made you feel like this, and you hope maybe one day you'd find the courage to meet him in person.

Everything went dead silent for a few minutes except for a few sniffles you hope no one else could hear. Your body glistening with sweat and your thighs sticky with your juices. You're still coming down from your high as your tears slowly fade away.

"You there, sweetheart? You heard him ask from a short distance.

With shakey hands, you pick up the phone to your ear. "Mmhmm...I'm still here." Your voice coming out small.

"You did so good for me." He praised you one last time. "It's okay. I'm right here He reassured.

"How was it." He asked, hoping you had a good time.

"It was overwhelming but amazing." You smile weakly into the phone. You can't see him, but he's smiling back.

"Yea knew I'd be perfect for the job. Haven't had one complaint yet." His cockiness coming back almost immediately. Just as he was about to reach for a pack of cigarettes, he noticed he's way over his scheduled time. His eyes widened in a panic as he locked eyes with the clock above him.

His assistant busts through the door, signaling that the show is now officially over for the night. Eddie startles for a moment before jumping out of his chair and yanks the mic up to his mouth to close out the rest of the segment.

He slams his hands down on the table enthusiastically. "GOOD!..GREAT!-- and that's it for tonight's show everybody thank you all for listening. Thank you to our lovely caller, and if you guys wanna see my band play, come visit us at The Hideout every Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday nights. Especially you miss caller you can come see me anytime you like."

You listened to him give thanks to everyone when the song called "about a girl" from some band named Nirvana fades away his outro. You flopped back down on your bed. Your body is way too weak to even roll over your legs feeling like jello.

Laying there resisiting the urge to fall asleep, wanting to savor this special moment as long as you could. You thought about what he said before hanging up. You were definitely wanted to see him soon. You had to after this night. You needed to finally meet him and maybe repay the favor.

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aylasrants · 3 months ago

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and you know what? he’s damn right

Eddie is so obsessed and delusional over you, he thinks every normal thing you do is catered to him.

He thinks the eye contact you give in conversation is solely for him, not just a polite thing you do in every interaction with anybody. He thinks you're trying to blatantly show desire and affection when you're actually just an active listener.

He thinks you giving him your chocolate milk at lunch is an act of devotion, completely ignoring the fact that you literally said you accidentally took two when you hand the carton over to him.

He thinks every laugh you let out is reserved for him. To live in that delusion, he's constantly cycling through jokes, bits, and goofy act-outs so you don't get the chance to laugh at somebody else. If one of the Hellfire boys makes a quip in conversation, he's quickly adding onto it, making the joke his.

He thinks the way you drink from a straw is subliminal messaging that you wanna taste him. God forbid you drink and look at him at the same time, despite his endless talking, drawing your attention.

He thinks any time you dress remotely nice at school, you did it for him-for his attention. He makes sure to be extra sweet and funny that day, giving you what you surely dressed up for. He'll compliment you and revel in your shy smile and mumbled, "Thanks."

When you give him a Metallica concert ticket, in addition to the one you have, he's certain you're asking him out. He's prepared to go on the best first date ever, but then you tell him the ticketing box accidentally sold you one with the wrong seating. They made up for their mistake by letting you keep the wrong one and also giving you the correct ticket for the seat next to yours. Turns out you're taking Jimmy Knaley to the concert and you just needed to pawn off the extra ticket.

Fucking Jimmy Knaley. Eddie doesn't even remember hearing that you're seeing the guy. He's been too wrapped up in all your subliminal messages that apparently aren't messages. Fuck if he knew. If you don't want him, why do you always laugh at every joke and even touch his arm?

Never mind. You probably do want him, you're just going to a concert, for his favorite band, with Jimmy Knaley because you're being nice. You're really nice like that. Eddie would know. He's sure that once he shows up to the concert, you'll ask Jimmy to trade seats with him so Eddie can sit with you. You're practically his best friend, why wouldn't you want to sit with him?

He'll just wait. You'll come forward when you're ready. Until then, he'll subtly let you know he's picking up what you're putting down. He gets you like nobody else, you'll see.

Masterlist

Tag List: @defututus @ratsematary @american-idiot-jpg @glassbxttless @justalotoffanfiction @savybabyyy @thepinkpanther83 @sorayasworld @slaytheusurper @dangerousnbeautiful @hellmastereddie @ali-r3n @lilithera0 @tlclick73 @joonbread @jesterghuleh @bellalillyrose @bigboymoozz @am0iur @pastelpoppies @lionkingshiddenmessage @girlwedontcare @cheesesandwichsanto @avenjames-anderson

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

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aylasrants · 3 months ago

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Literally

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aylasrants · 3 months ago

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even there my sister will find a way to piss me off 😭

I yern for it

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aylasrants · 3 months ago

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WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO ME????!!!! THIS EXQUISITE LIKE WHAAAT WDYM

consequence of love

“Do me a favour,” he hoarsely said after a while, and he gently got hold of her chin to turn her face to meet his heated gaze. His green eyes were so intense that she almost looked away from them. “Whenever you feel that way, come here. Trust me, it will make it better. I know it will.”

I know it will. As the phrase kept echoing in her head, Sophie believed the words to be true. Benedict was certainly talking from his own experience. She could almost imagine him looking at his own sketch of her, or rather the lady in silver, reminiscing about their time together and hoping to find her again. How much had he hurt because of her?

His eyes never left hers as he continued. “And keep in mind that if your thoughts drift to me, mine are already consumed by you. All day, every day.”

—

Or, Benedict catches Sophie looking at his portrait.

Read on ao3 here.

#how are people so f talented #benophie #sophie baek #benedict bridgerton #bridgerton s4 #bridgerton fanfiction #benophie fanfiction #bridgerton

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aylasrants · 4 months ago

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currently in my bed dying of loneliness, hbu?

Eddie is the opposite of a nonchalant boyfriend

Masterlist

Context: Nonchalant boyfriend was an internet phenomenon where girls were talking about their, you guessed it, nonchalant boyfriends avoidant attachment style lowkey saying things like, "when he's nonchalant and u never know if he actually likes you or if he doesn't even care abt ur existence" and, "pov: dating a nonchalant guy who never compliments you when you're a words of affirmation girl"

Asks are open, please for the love of god talk to me about Eddie.

Warnings: mentions of a period, a pinch of spiciness, that's it.

WC: 1.8k

A/N: Have this thought that turned long while I continue writing my magnum opus, it is an Eddie x Popular!Reader enemies to situationship to lovers based on the song imgonnagetyouback by Taylor Swift. It's currently at 14k words and I haven't even hit the real drama yet lmao. If anybody applies the slightest bit of pressure on me I will fold like a wet noodle and give you guys an excerpt. I've been planning it out and drafting it this whole week so it should be a well-structured story unlike my other long one.

Eddie declares war on all nonchalant boyfriends.

He’s never been nonchalant about anything in his entire life, and he’s not gonna start now, not with you.

No longer will you wonder if your boyfriend thinks you look pretty or if he thought about you that day.

With Eddie, he thinks about so many things during the day, you included, that he has to write the ones about you down so he can tell you later when you both get home from work.

He runs down the paper like it’s his grocery list, “Okay, first of all Joe was playing the radio in the shop today and Queen came on and it made me think of you.”

Your heart flutters at the sentiment, “Aw, what song was it?” You’re curious to know what it was so you can go listen to it, even though you’ve more than likely heard it a million times. You just want to listen to it from his perspective, imagining what lines made him think of you.

You giddily wonder if it was Killer Queen, you do have an insatiable appetite for him. Or maybe it was Somebody To Love, you swoon at the thought of Eddie hearing the choir-like chanting, ‘Find me somebody to love,’ knowing he’s coming home to you. His somebody.

Your rose-colored thoughts are dashed when he quips his answer.

“Fat Bottomed Girls,” he’s got a proud grin stretched across his face before he looks at his lengthy list once more, quickly moving on.

Your eyes deaden, lips pressed into a thin line, “Okay.” A tone of defeat saturating the word, you should’ve known better. That’s about right for Eddie, your perpetually horny boyfriend.

He continues as if he’s presenting on a time limit, too much to say, please hold all questions ‘til the end.

“Okay, up next, I stopped at Bradley’s Big Buy on the way home and bought you a new bag of tootsie rolls.” He reaches into the paper bag on the chair beside him and plops the huge bag of the sugary treat on the counter. “I checked the pantry this morning and saw we’re running low. Plus, your period is supposed to come this week and I can’t be without my greatest allies.” He finishes by patting the crinkling bag.

You furrow your brow, jerk your head back, eyes flutter-blinking in a questioning manner, how did he know you’re supposed to get your period this week?

“Oh don’t look at me like that,” he waves off your confusion as if it’s preposterous, “I keep up with my girl, and my girl’s girl.” He gestures vaguely to your lower half, it makes you snort.

“Did you just refer to my vagina as sentient?” Your eyebrows are furrowed, eyes alight with mirth.

He shrugs, “You know me.” He’s so blasé with it, as if those three words explain everything.

What you don’t know is he keeps a little pocket calendar that he uses to mark your menstrual cycle. He wants to know when his girl isn’t feeling very good, but he also wants to know when his girl is feeling extra good.

“Moving forward,” he shouts with a finger up in the air, turning his nose up as if frustrated by your incessant interruptions. Such a drama queen, you think.

“Gareth asked me if we want to go on a double date with him and Jenna this Friday, I told him I’d ask the old Ball & Chain.” He’s grinning when he says it, preparing for your inevitable smack.

And you do smack him, right on his shoulder. “Hey! I’m not a Ball & Chain until you lock it down,” is your only response, you can’t help but smile at the glee in his eyes when you mention being his forever.

“You’re so right, my dearest, how very silly of me.” He says it in a stilted overly-formal voice like he’s a 1940s business man puffing on a cigar. “But mark my words, you will be my Ball & Chain,” he says in a playful threat, “When you least expect it, that’s when I’ll strike.”

You shake your head, smiling at his stupidity. He’s smug at the fact that you don’t know he’s been wearing the engagement ring he bought you around his neck, beneath his clothes, for the past four months just waiting for the perfect moment.

“Yes, let’s do dinner, what’s next,” you question, craning your neck forward to get a glimpse at his chicken scratch writing.

He jerks the paper away from your view, it’s then that you realize he’s written all of this on the back of a purchasing request from the shop. You see the logo for ‘Joe’s Cars’ at the top of the page, god, you hope they didn’t need this document for their files.

He holds the paper to his chest, reprimanding you like you’re a nosy kid, “No peeking!”

You laugh as you settle back into your stance in front of him, waiting for what he has to say next.

“On my way home I saw a banner on the mall advertising a sale at the Gap and I figured we could go get you that dress you saw in the catalog the other day. Maybe you can wear that to dinner with Gareth and Jenna,” he suggests.

It’s so straightforward the way he says it. He’s waiting for your response, but you’re nearly choking back tears at the way he loves you. The way he sees you.

You had shown him the dress last week while he was building you a shelf for your joint bedroom. The shelf would be a place for you to put your romance novels, a lot of Jilly Cooper and Jackie Collins, something your ex would’ve never done. He always made you feel bad for reading those types of books, but not Eddie. Eddie built you a place to display them proudly in your room, no longer having to dig under the bed to reread them.

When you showed him the dress, you didn’t think he actually remembered the interaction. He gave you his attention when you talked about how pretty it was and how much you liked the pleated skirt, but you just thought it went in one ear and out the other. You thought that he was probably nodding, ‘oo’-ing and ‘ah’-ing until you’d go away, leaving him to work.

But here he was a week later, having remembered the exact dress and the exact store, offering to buy it for a silly little dinner.

You smile at him with watery eyes, nodding, “Yeah, I’d like that very much,” you move to kiss him, but he holds up his hand to stop you. A pinch of worry squeezes your heart before he says, “Hold on I’m not done yet!”

His hand still held in the air, he dutifully looks at his list as if he’s reading something lengthy, preparing to recite the next thought he had at work that he needed to share with you.

He takes a big breath in before turning to you to share the last thing, “And- I love you.” He says it with the sweetest smile on his face, just happy to talk to you, happy to come home to you.

It takes you a minute to grasp what he said. That was it. That was the last thing he thought at work that he needed to tell you. Wrote it down and everything.

He stopped your incoming kiss and affection to tell you that, he gave you pause thinking you rudely cut him off again. But he just wanted to tell you he thought about how he loves you while at work.

He’s so stupid, you think fondly. He’s your stupid, silly, dramatic, lover boy.

Your close-mouthed smile is so big it makes your eyes squint shut, nose scrunching as you shake your head at his antics. A huffing laugh leaves your nose as you reach for him, his arm pulls you in for the sweetest kiss, the one you get to have every day with him.

“I love you too, stupid face.”

You love your non-nonchalant boyfriend.

Bonus:

On Friday, you’re getting ready for the double-date in the bathroom, touching up your makeup in preparation to show Eddie.

“Teddie!” You call out the fond nickname, he loves when you call him that, it liquifies his insides. You always make him melt.

You can hear his soft thudding steps into the bedroom, a slight squeak of the bed as he sits down.

“You ready to see?” Your voice echoes from behind the door, he can hear the smile in your voice and it makes him smile.

“So ready,” he grins, “Gimme my prize, baby. Show me what’s behind door number one!” His imitation of a game show host is weirdly good, he blames it on Wayne’s addiction to old reruns of Let’s Make A Deal.

You open the door, stepping out, nervously brushing the nonexistent wrinkles out of the skirt with your hands. You look up at his face, asking a hesitant, “How do I look?”

He’s frozen in his spot, his eyes are wide as they take in the angel in front of him. He finds you sexy any way you come, but he does love when a gift is covered in pretty wrapping.

Your confidence grows at his speechlessness, you know him well enough to know it's good speechless.

He stands up abruptly, “Excuse me- I gotta-hold on-,” and he’s out the front door. You have no idea where he’s going, but knowing him, this is for dramatic effect. So you sit down on the bed and wait, crossing one healed leg over the other, leaning back on your arms, bobbing your foot idly.

When he comes back in thirty seconds later his black suit is disheveled, his hair no longer neat in a ponytail. The shorter curls are windswept as they frame his face, he’s unbuttoned his dress shirt to his sternum, he’s breathing hard and ragged. You stand at his entrance, hands on your hips, an amused glint in your eyes.

His cheeks are pink with exertion and sweat beads at his hairline, “Sorry, you’re so hot I literally had to take a lap, I’m back now, we’re good to go. You look amazing, by the way.” He leans in to hold you in a kiss, but you put your hands up to stop his body from touching yours.

You're giggling at his antics, ‘Ew, you’re all sweaty now,” you whine.

He grins mischievously, “Oh good, then it won’t matter if I get even more sweaty.” Next thing you know he’s clumsily grabbing the sides of your head, pulling you in for a comically sloppy kiss, and pressing his body to yours desperately. You can feel his leg hitch onto your body like he’s about to climb you like a damn tree.

You break the silly kiss with a loud laugh, tossing your head back, “Eddieeeeuhhh!”

A/N: please like, reblog, and comment if you enjoyed it. Comments encourage me to write more, they're like a shot of espresso to my heart.

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

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aylasrants · 4 months ago

Text

he’s such an idiot, i love him

Malapropism

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: Eddie and his inability to get his words right. Or, three times Eddie was way off.

WC: 3.3k

Warnings: lots of flirting, use of the word ‘cummies’, mentions of blowjobs, mentions of sex, Steve, idiots in love, Buffy the Vampire Slayer references because I can’t help myself, mentions of homosexuality, mentions of oral sex (fem receiving), Eddie thinks girls kissing is hot because he's a 20-year-old boy, reader dreams about Eddie because she's down bad, but he's also down atrociously, Eddie banter 10/10 here.

A/N: Asks are open, pls come talk to me about Eddie!!!

Masterlist

Eddie is not the brightest bulb in the bunch, he smoked a lot of his best brain cells away. Only left with an encyclopedic knowledge of nudie magazines, Dungeons & Dragons, and metal music, the rest of his mind is cobwebs, empty filing drawers that never seem to fill, and one stray marble rolling around for when he gets bored during Mrs. O'Donnell's lectures.

He has this awful knack for forgetting words, misfiling definitions in his mind, and reading a little too fast which only leads to confusion. Like the time you were filling out your worksheet for Career Day.

Career Day was this stupid shindig the high school put on where all the seniors would fill out arbitrary information on a sheet, turn it in, and the school would come back with your future career. Then everybody would go off into groups with real people in those careers and shadow them for a day.

All of it was like a really shitty crystal ball, except this was more inaccurate than a crystal ball. This was Hawkins High, famously known for pumping out Einsteins and Steve Jobs', telling 18-year-olds what they'd be good for. That would be like listening to your hammered uncle at Thanksgiving say, "I'm gonna go for a drive," and going, "You know what? That sounds like a real good idea, let me come with you! I'll make sure not to put on my seatbelt and everything!"

So, no, Eddie is not filling out a sheet. He figures there's nothing Hawkins High could come back with that would be anything other than Gas Station Attendant or Garbage Man. He'll save himself the public embarrassment, thank you very much.

Plus, he’s enjoying watching you try to fill out the sheet, grumbling and dramatically sighing every thirty seconds like you have a list of better things to be doing running through your head. You’re sitting in the cafeteria hunched over the paper while he leans on the arm you’re not writing with, his head laid on your shoulder watching you scribble answers. This is his happy place, not school- hell no, no, it’s you. Getting to watch you do mundane things while also being in your personal space, that’s heaven right there.

Finishing up, you answered all the stupid questions, not enjoying this inane ritual very much either. You even answered the one asking if you like bushes, to which you defaulted to Eddie for clarity.

"What in the world could they gain from my answer to this?" You frustratedly ask, this was getting ridiculous. He straightens up as you turn on him to point to the question.

"Well, either you're religious or you're free spirited," he shrugged, shoveling more of your pretzels into his mouth. Thief. He’s like a little raccoon, always hungry and digging for food in other people’s stuff. You never tell him, but you pack double of everything for lunch, knowing he’ll be eating yours. He likes to leave at least a little left so as to act like he didn’t just bogart your snacks, ah yes, because three pretzels and some crumbs are just enough for you. If he knew you packed double of everything he’d be getting into your backups in no time, so that will remain a mystery, you’ll continue to eat lunch in study hall.

Scoffing and checking the ‘no’ box, no 'I don't know, freaks' option available.

"And by free spirited, I mean 70s bush type of free spirited," he grinned, proud of his ability to get a vagina reference in conversation. Ever a teenage boy at twenty.

"Yes Eddie, I know, I got that," you sighed, exhausted by his presence already. You're choosing not to give him much more attention than that, still looking over your paperwork. Being his only girl friend was hard work, on good days, you would call it a labor of love, on bad days…the meter would lean more towards “I’m going to smack the shit out of this stupid idiot boy.’

"Vagina…vagina bush," he's having the time of his life antagonizing you while you pretend to focus, he considers the day a win if he A) mentions a vagina at least once, B) annoys you, or C) all of the above. And he's going for gold today, he'll take Vagina's for 500, please.

"Wow Eddie, you've really mastered the single-entendre there."

When you get your results back, he peeks over your shoulder after the many, 'What'd you get?''s go unanswered. In bold letters at the top of the page it reads 'THE RAPIST.' The printer must've jammed midway through inking the word, you got the gist, though. Eddie, on the other hand, did not.

He rips the paper from your hands looking at it hurriedly, "What the fuck?! You should've said ‘yes’ to the bush question! Oh my god!" He's yelling in your face, utter shock and horror in your honor.

"Wha-? Eddie!" You rip the paper back from his large hands, knowing exactly how he read it, opting to point to the misread word like a school teacher reading a picture book to second graders, "No Dingbat! It says 'THERAPIST.' The printer must've fucked up or something."

"Oh thank god! I was not going to let you shadow whoever that was! What kind of psycho shit..." His voice is a mumble under his breath by the end of the sentence, shaking his head, scolding the school for the mistake.

You know he has trouble with words sometimes, not a walking dictionary, that one. Because of this, you’ll purposefully use big words to hide what you’re talking about. You don’t mean to exclude him, it’s only for things you don’t want him to get going on. For instance, X-rated commentary must be spoken in purely anatomical terms.

You’re talking with Robin while she enters returned VHS’s back into the system at Family Video after school. Eddie is there just wandering around, pulling out tape after tape, reading the backs while walking, and leaving them on the nearest shelf when he’s done. Steve’s following behind him, like the exasperated mom of a two year old who needs to touch everything, putting each of them back in their rightful place. Blissfully unaware of his entourage, Eddie works his way through the horror section, moving on to the science-fiction movies.

Eventually, Steve gives up and joins you at the customer side of the counter. “Why do you bring him here? He’s like the Tasmanian Devil, whirling his way through and leaving the place a mess.” He’s beyond frustrated at this point, his tone conveying just how over it he is, and by it, that would be Eddie.

You smile, seeing the beginnings of sweat on his voluminous hairline, “Well, I know you could use the workout, gotta keep the ladies knocking down your door,” you tease.

Robin snorts, “Yeah, as if. I get more women than him!”

“Well it certainly doesn’t help that you take them all!” Steve’s like a petulant child in his response.

Cutting off their argument, getting back to the original question, “Plus, he needs enrichment, so I like to let him loose here. It’s a nice enclosed space, people he knows, it’s the closest thing to an Eddie Park we have.” You shrug, smugly smiling at Steve’s disapproving glare.

You want to get back to your conversation with Robin so you do your best to shoo him away in the only way you know how, “Oh my god, did Eddie just pull the film tape out of Fast Times at Ridgemont High?” You put on a worried voice, looking over Steve’s shoulder.

Steve, of course, whips around muttering a stern, “Oh no you don’t, Munson.” He’s off to go stop Eddie, who is still looking at the back of The Outsiders tape, completely unaware that you just used him as a distraction.

Robin chuckles, the fake distraction clear to her, but Steve is too busy thinking about the possibility of not having easy access to Phoebe Cates’ pool scene ever again.

“Anyway, as I was saying,” you pause to locate Eddie, making sure he’s not near you, “Heather wasn’t in fifth period because apparently she got detention for getting caught under the bleachers…,” lowering your voice conspicuously, “performing fellatio on her boyfriend, Chris.”

Before you have a chance to gauge Robin’s shocked reaction at the obvious high school faux pas, Eddie’s voice over your shoulder makes you jump nearly out of your skin.

“Romeo’s best friend?” He asks, extremely confused, not knowing Hawkins was doing Romeo & Juliet this year for the school play. He thought it was Oklahoma, the only reason he knows any of that is because he’s forced to share the drama room after school with the theater club during rehearsal season. A bunch of theater kids playing Zip, Zap, Zop for an hour straight really grates on one’s nerves, especially when he’s trying to transport his Sheepies to Middle Earth.

“Jesus Christ! We need to put a bell on you!” He was literally across the store not two seconds before you said it, how the hell did he sneak his way over to stand directly over your shoulder, far too close for comfort, especially given the subject matter you’re talking about.

“Ooo,” he coos, shimmying suggestively, “I could be into that, would you put your name on the collar?” He grins, biting his bottom lip, leaning into your personal space even more than he already was. He looks like a smug bastard, but he also looks like he’s one more flirtation away from eating you out up. His leering eyes raking up and down your body, playing up his joke, but it certainly doesn’t feel like a joke when he looks like that. You’re leaning back, matching the amount he leans forward, forcing a look of repulsion on your face.

Before you can reprimand him for his dirty mind, Robin cuts in, reminding you of his original comment.

“Also, no, that’s Mercutio.”

“Woah, gesundheit, Buckley.” He chuckles like she just said the most ludicrous thing he’s heard all day. At the same time, he straightens up, giving you a reprieve from his familiar scent- Marlboros and Old Spice to try to cover up the Marlboros. It’s the same scent you smell in your dreams, the one that makes you wake up missing him, more than a friend should miss another friend. You love Robin deeply, but you can’t say her scent has made its way into your dreams, let alone her being a star in them herself. Meanwhile, Eddie is at the top of the call sheet in your dreams.

“Wha-no?” It comes out more as a question, the real question being how the hell did he get from point A, fellatio, to point B, Mercutio? “That’s Romeo’s best friend-,” You try to correct him, but you’re quickly cut off.

“Who is?” He’s completely oblivious.

“Mercutio!” Okay, you’re starting to get frustrated here.

“I thought you said that was Fellatio,” his brows are drawn into a frown, trying to make sense of the mess that is this conversation.

“No, that’s a blowjob,” Robin throws the towel in, giving up on trying to hide the original conversation that started this mess in search of clarity.

“You rang?” Steve pops up beside you and Eddie so quickly he probably left a cartoonish cloud of dust when he Road Runner’d over to you, he’s looking incredibly interested in this conversation.

Eddie turns to Steve like he was just offered a beer, “I wouldn’t say no to one…” Steve nods in agreement before they both look at you.

“Oh, I give up!” You throw your arms up in exasperation before you’re dropping your head harshly onto the counter. Robin rubbing your head in sympathy.

“So no head?” Eddie asks, so genuinely that if you weren’t so frustrated, you would find it endearing despite the subject matter.

All you can muster is a glare and ignore the beating of your heart in your ears.

Despite Eddie’s lack of firing neurons, he still loves to accompany you to study sessions with Robin. Steve shows up too, but that’s just because he has no other friends. Unless, of course, you count a bunch of 14-year-olds, of which he does not. See, friends aren’t as mean as those 14-year-olds, hell, they’ve got him hiding under the counter every time they bust into Family Video, Robin having to cover for him, “Sorry, he just left.”

You’re currently cramming for an AP World History exam, Robin is holding up the flashcards you made to quiz yourself. Eddie takes a break from planning for the next leg of his D&D campaign to look at what you’re up to. He’s sitting beside you on a couch at the Hawkins library, a place he’s never set foot in before you. But you’re like a bonded pair of cats, not to be separated under any circumstances. So he gave his best innocent smile to Ms. Marissa, the librarian, when she recognized the town hooligan upon his entrance with you into her fine establishment. Her library had been safe from his loud rants and pranks thus far, so she’s wary of his newfound presence in the small building.

You were signing in at the front desk as they shared an exchange, Eddie stood right next to you, his leather clad arm brushed against your body. You could still feel the warmth it brought even now.

“Mr. Munson.” She curtly greeted, letting him know she knew exactly who he was, lest he try any funny business during his stay.

With a shit-eating grin, he leaned forward to rest both arms in front of him, his hands clasped together, and said, “Oh please, call me Eddie. Mr. Munson was my mother.”

Ms. Marissa frowned in confusion and you were pulling him away to where Robin and Steve had set up camp.

“Behave,” you implored.

“Yes ma’am,” He answered with a salute.

That was two hours ago, two hours too long according to Eddie. He sees that you’re still working with the flashcards and sighs dramatically, choosing to play-faint onto you, practically crushing you with his body weight.

“Eddie! Stop, I’m trying to study!” You whine, your ribs practically closing in on you as he lays on your balled up body.

Robin puts the flashcards down to take a break, she knows this is gonna take a minute to resolve. She leans over to see Steve in the book stacks flirting with a girl, she shakes her head. ‘He would flirt with a man in a wig if the guy had pretty enough eyelashes,’ she thinks.

“Need…attention…” Eddie croaks out like he’s parched for your attention, alone in the hot desert of your disinterest.

You maneuver your elbow out from under the pressure of his body just enough to shove it back into him to try to get him off, the shove itself won’t do the job, but maybe if you aim it right your elbow will dig into his ribs and cause him to yelp off of you. It doesn’t work, but luckily he gets off of you on his own accord.

“I have a quiz question for you,” he says with enthusiasm, ready to challenge you, “who in history said, ‘Give me attention or give me death!’?” He says it like he’s reenacting it, an orator speaking to a bustling, interested crowd, not just Robin with an eyebrow quirked, and a frustrated you.

“That’s not the quote.” It comes out in a monotonous admonishment, looking at him with your head tilted, you’re a teacher waiting for the problem-student to be quiet so you can move forward with the class.

“Oh, no you’re right, that’s my bad. Who said, ‘Give me cummies or give me death!’?” He tries to give the same reenacted energy as he did the first time, but he struggles to keep a serious face, too busy breaking out into a laughing grin.

Steve is sitting down on the couch opposite you, next to Robin, phone number on a scrap of paper that was clearly torn from a spiral notebook. He looks amused at what he just walked in on.

“EW! Eddie, don't be gross!” You smack him on the shoulder, to which he flinches, hand rubbing where you hit him as if it actually hurt.

“Ow! Jeez, okay, sorry. But to answer my own question, it was me, I said that.” He’s grinning again, proud, not exactly a vagina joke, but he got to say the word ‘cummies’ which he knows you despise, so he’s happy. Plus, he gets a fun little tingle every time he says something you deem naughty and he gets to watch the realization of what he’s said wash over you. He’d watch you forever like that, it’s his favorite show. His sweet best friend bristling at the word ‘cummies’, it’s as close to sex with you he’ll ever get. At least that’s what he thinks.

“It’s true, he did say that. I was there. Fantastic public speaker by the way,” Steve says it with such confidence that if it wasn’t such an outlandish statement, you would believe him. It’s like he’s trying to recommend you go to one of the fake events Eddie seems to speak at.

“Okay! Back to work!” Robin’s clapping her hands before you get the chance to go off on both of them for being such boys, you’re making no effort to hide the disgust on your face.

‘Cummies’ is a horrendous word, but Eddie’s comment does put two things in your head, the root word ‘cum’ and his shit-eating grin. A lethal combo that makes you feel like the room is a thousand degrees. AP World History, Ap World History, AP World History.

Robin held up her notes, trying to think of things to quiz you on, “Okay, how about this, what version of humans came after homo-neanderthalensis?”

“Easy, homo-sapiens,” You’re proud of how quickly you got that until Eddie cuts in.

“That’s like Robin, right?” He’s genuine in his question, just wanting to be included in the conversation at this point.

You’re confused by what he means, “Y-yeah, I guess, I mean- that’s like all of us.” You’re looking at him with a question in your eyes.

“Uhh, I don’t know about all of us, maybe Steve, for sure,” he leans close to you, one hand coming up to cover his mouth from Steve and Robin’s confused gaze as he speaks through only one side of his mouth, “can you say compensating much?”

You pull your head back from his stage whisper looking at him with the most confusion you might have ever displayed in his presence.

“What?”

“I mean- it’s cool if you are. I mean- that’s honestly kind of hot, actually. You still like guys too, though, right?” He goes from smooth criminal, imagining you and Debbie Harry making out, to suddenly nervous that he actually has no shot with you.

“Okay, requesting clarification for all who are me,” you quip, you’re beyond lost at this point, he might as well be talking to a wall. The conversation would look the same, too.

“You know what, it’s cool, you tell me when you’re ready.” He brushes it off wanting to get out of this conversation already.

Everybody is looking at him like his head starting spinning 360 degrees. He looks like he’s just waiting for everybody to get the memo and move on already.

That is until Steve interrupts, seemingly the only one who caught up, “Wait, do you think I’m gay?!”

So, yeah, Eddie is not the brightest bulb in the batch. But it makes for some truly entertaining conversations, and you wouldn't have it any other way.

A/N: Please like, reblog, and leave a comment if you like it! It encourages me to continue to write, and usually other people's enthusiasm gets me excited and in the mood to write even more stuff.

#eddie munson #fic rec #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #stranger things #eddie munson x you #eddie stranger things #stranger things fic #eddie munson x female reader

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