thegunslingerstragedy - Tumblr blog

thegunslingerstragedy · 2 months

Text

The Taste of the Divine // Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Masterlist

Synopsis: You get high with Eddie for the first time.

WC: 3.2k

Category: Smut (18+ ONLY, minors do not interact).

Content: Weed (in the form of gummies), intox. kink if you squint, you and Eddie are both high, descriptions of what it feels like to be high, kissing, fem receiving oral, spit play (kinda?).

A/N: Hi! It's been a minute, so let's hope I'm not too rusty, but I hope you enjoy ;)

♡*♡*♡

“Woah,” you say.

“What?” Eddie asks, turning to look at you, his frizzy hair shifting over one shoulder with the motion.

“I can feel it behind my eyes,” you explain.

Eddie grins at you lazily, his chest rumbling with a laugh as he says, “You are so stoned right now.”

An hour after you ate a couple blue raspberry THC gummies—effectively staining your tongue blue—you sit on Eddie’s bedroom floor, your backs pressed against the side of his bed.

Only the lamp on the bedside table is switched on, blanketing the room in soft, yellow light. The gentle hue and the feel of his slightly rough duvet at your back give the room a sort of muted feel, making you feel like you’re inside a pillow fort.

“No, seriously,” you insist, softly tapping the back of your hand against his bicep. “It’s like, the back of my head feels…fuzzy?” you say it almost like it’s a question, trying to come up with the words.

“Yeah?” Eddie hums, his tone gentle and understanding, but with a teasing lilt to it which makes your face burn up, sending tingles up your chest and neck that you’re not sure is a response to Eddie or the weed.

“Yeah,” you agree with a nod, swallowing as you recognize the dryness in your throat.

Eddie’s russet eyes flick down to your mouth for a moment, unconsciously flicking his tongue out to wet his pink pout. “Mouth dry?”

You just nod, transfixed for just a moment by his tongue wetting his lips again. They shine in the lamplight, such a pretty shade of pink.

You rub your thighs together, feeling like a cerulean wave has crested above your head, and you’re underwater, your whole body lax and calm as you float beneath the surface.

It’s odd, the calmness in your body. The awareness of your limbs and how your face moves. And that wonderful fuzziness. It’s making everything softer, gentler. But there’s also the feeling of your soft thighs brushing together. The slight friction between your thighs makes the back of your head tingle, goosebumps rising on your arms and legs.

It’s odd, but it’s good. New, but not unwelcome.

When you meet Eddie’s eyes again, he feels closer. Or maybe he is closer? But you want him even closer. You’d beg him for closer, you think as his eyes impossibly darken, tracing their way down your features.

You wonder what you look like to him. Are your eyes red? Do you look as spacey as you feel? Does he like it?

Your limbs feel slightly heavy, your skin buzzing. Softness everywhere.

“What else do you feel?” He whispers, his breath fanning across your mouth and chin. You crave the sight of his tongue to his lips. The touch of his tongue to yours.

“I-”

God.

Your chest begins to rise and fall with quicker, shallow breaths.

“Please.” It’s so quiet, you’re not sure if he’s heard you. But the look in his eyes is igniting a fire in your belly.

He holds your gaze and you lose your breath.

Water surrounds you, dampening the sounds of the world. Softness envelopes you. An ache between your thighs, a craving unsatisfied.

“Please, what?” Eddie laughs.

When you don’t respond, only avert your gaze and rub your hands over your bare thighs (the summer heat has you in just a t-shirt and your underwear), you can sense understanding washing over him.

“Are you feeling good?”

The question would be so normal. He’s just checking in with you, making sure you’re still okay. You trusted him enough to do this with him for the first time. You’d want to do this with no one else.

But his tone suggests a double meaning.

Without your notice, there’s suddenly the feeling of his hand (rough from playing guitar) on your face. It feels so good you could go cross-eyed as you lean ever so slightly into his touch.

“Do you feel it here?”

You nod slightly, meeting his eyes again and forgetting yourself for a moment.

His calloused fingers then trace a teasing path down your neck, past your pulse point, and his open palm lands just below your collarbone. His eyes follow the trail, and he can no doubt see and feel the quick rise and fall of your chest.

The warmth of his hand seeps into your skin.

“Here?” Eddie questions.

The room falls away as you say, “Yeah.” But it comes out rough, a reminder of your dry mouth.

Eddie hums, as if this is interesting to him, like someone has told him a fun fact he’s not sure that he cares about. His fingers continue their path down your chest, leaving a long trail of electricity in their wake.

You survey his face as he watches his hand trail down, before ghosting his hand past your chest and stomach.

Without even thinking about it, you gently split your thighs for him.

“Oh,” He says it like his heart ached the moment the plush of your thighs separated to accommodate his rough hand.

The inside of your thighs burn where his fingertips caress them, stoking the growing fire in your belly. You suck in a sharp breath at the feeling.

You close your eyes, trying to catch your breath. Over his hands barely grazing your body. Over his dark eyes on you, his wavy hair creating a shade around you.

“There,” you agree before he utters the question. Your heart is beating rhythmically against your rib cage, begging for his touch as your skin tingles, everything slower.

Everything is so warm. You want his fingers everywhere.

“Touch me,” you breathe, and Eddie’s eyes dart up from your thighs to watch your face.

He sighs like he’s pained by your plea, melting into you. His forehead meets your temple.

Now it’s his turn to catch his breath. He just breathes, the soft air cooling your warm cheek.

After a moment, Eddie pulls himself from you, catching your eyes again as he moves back, but remains close. The scent of his shampoo and him invade your senses.

“Where?” He questions. “Here?” But it's so gentle, as his hand smoothes over the curve of your thigh, and drifts so slowly up, his pinky just meeting the edge of your panties.

A whimper slips past your lips as if he’s dripped hot wax onto your thigh, instead of the gentle caress he actually gives you.

He fingers the fabric with his thumb. “These are cute,” Eddie muses, then pinches your thigh between his thumb and forefinger, right at the top where you’re most tender and soft.

Your stomach somersaults and you can’t help but bring your right hand up to rest atop the back of his, where it rests between your legs.

The feeling of his warmth, the hum in your veins. The need for more. You shift his hand downwards, letting him graze you over the cotton with his palm lying flat against your clothed pussy.

Eddie sucks in a breath, his middle finger trailing up your slit over your underwear. He tsks softly as he presses into the wet patch.

Warmth blooms in your chest and you feel like your heart is going to leap right out of your ribcage.

His hands. So rough, but gentle against your skin. Those eyes, with pupils blown out from the weed and his desire that’s rolling off him in waves. His tone. Teasing and begging simultaneously. Like he wants to be a little mean, but he also wants you too much to play games for too long.

“Eddie-”

But that’s all it takes before he cuts you off, capturing your mouth in a desperate clash of teeth and tongues.

His presence takes you over, flooding your senses. His lips taste faintly of a lingering cigarette and your strawberry chapstick he must have borrowed.

Smiling into the kiss, Eddie pushes forward, leaning into you until you begin lowering to the floor. One of his hands is on the carpet behind you and the other is at your hip as he slowly guides you to the floor.

When your back meets the carpet, Eddie’s hair shields you once again, his lips never once having left yours.

Eddie is a welcome weight on top of you, pushing you deeper under that cerulean wave as you wrap your arms around his neck. He takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss by licking hotly into your mouth. His tongue grazes yours and you moan into his mouth, back arching off the floor.

Your head is still fuzzy from the weed, and getting fuzzier.

Groaning in displeasure when he lifts himself away from your mouth, you slide your hands out from around his neck. Hand trailing down his chest, you grab the end of his necklace and pull him back down to your mouth.

The groan that vibrates in his chest and feeds the fire in your belly makes you ache between your thighs. Losing yourself in the way your mouths move together, his bottom lip slotted between your top one, you both become increasingly sloppy.

It feels so good to kiss him like this, completely invading each other’s space. He gets so into it, like he could do just this forever and he’d be happy—elated.

When Eddie pulls away again, he flicks your top lip with the tip of his tongue and you can feel yourself throb. He breathes heavily, fair cheeks stained pink, and his hair a little more messy than it was before. His frizz; a halo.

But before you can pull him back down again, he plants a kiss to the corner of your mouth, then your cheek. He’s on a mission, leaving kiss after sloppy kiss down your neck and chest.

Enjoying the sensation of his lips on your skin, you loosen your hold on him, allowing him free range as your hands coast down his back.

When he’s finally eye level with your tits, he diverges to the left one, flicking your nipple over your thin tank top with his wet tongue. You whine and thread your fingers through his hair, tug at his roots. Eddie grunts in response, but moves on quickly, pulling the fabric of your top loosely up your body so he can kiss the skin of your sternum and belly.

Finally, you glance down at him, his dark eyes flickering to yours as he plants a final kiss to the dainty bow at the center of your panties.

Your hips flex beneath his hold as he squeezes your flesh before parting your thighs. The pressure of his calloused fingertips digging into your skin is delicious. You close your eyes, reveling in the sensation.

You can feel him move between your thighs, eliciting the soft sound of his body brushing against the carpet.

“My mouth is so dry,” Eddie whispers, his breath ghosting against the soaked fabric. “And you’re so wet, angel.”

You throw an elbow over your face, shielding your eyes, not out of embarrassment, but because you are so overwhelmed by him.

It doesn’t help when his lips press against your panties, right where your clit is, and your legs twitch in surprise. All you can do is gasp, enjoying his teasing.

Then there’s the feel of his hands coasting up and down your thighs. Your skin heats as you bite your lip, heart rate quickening.

Eddie places another sweet kiss to your pussy over the cotton, this one lower, drawing a whine out of you as you wiggle your hips impatiently. He teases his tongue against the wet patch and your hips buck involuntarily. You can feel him smirk against the skin of your thigh and you huff.

He places one final quick kiss to your mound, before asking: “Can I take these off, sweetheart?”

“Yeah, Eddie,” is all you can manage, and it comes out strangled and muffled beneath your arm.

But it's enough for him to tear your panties down your legs, and you kick them off as he dives back in, his arms encircling your thighs once you’ve got your feet planted on the floor by his shoulders.

“Fuck, look at you…My pretty, sweet thing.”

You cover your face with your hands, sweet humiliation warming your skin.

You feel so exposed like this, open for him. It makes your heart race. But the weed clouding your brain means you’re not as self-conscious as you might have been otherwise. Not about the coarse hair between your legs or how wet you are despite how little he’s really touched you.

Slowly, Eddie pulls your hands away from your face, and you rest them on your belly.

The intensity of his gaze makes your heart skip a beat. “Watch.”

He’s gentle at first, kissing the backs of your thighs, his eyes on yours.

But as he trails his kisses closer and closer to your center, he nips at your inner thigh, causing you to whimper pathetically.

And finally—finally—Eddie licks a thick stripe up your weeping cunt, and closes his eyes, losing himself in your taste.

“Fuck!” you cry out as his mouth devours you, his tongue lapping at your wetness as he licks you from your leaking hole to your clit.

Eddie pulls you impossibly closer, his grip tightening on your thighs, burying himself between your legs. He’s starved for it and your legs are already shaking. You’re so sensitive, and his tongue feels so warm, and it all feels just a little more. Just a little better.

Tears prickle in your eyes at the sensations as you trail your hands down your belly and bury your hands deep in his hair. You groan as his nose bumps your clit.

“More,” you beg, back arching just slightly off the floor.

Suddenly, his fingers join his tongue and he’s lapping at your hole enthusiastically while his thumb comes up to stroke your clit. Rubbing soft circles into the sensitive bundle of nerves, you practically squeal at the overwhelming feelings as your thighs clamp around his head.

For minutes, Eddie never comes up for air. His tongue feels like heaven as it sheathes inside of you, pumping the wet muscle inside of your warmth. His ringed fingers are like a blessing as they toy with your pussy.

He hums against your cunt, so content to be between your thighs.

The pleasure and the weed make everything hazy as you babble, “Feels so good. So good, Eddie…Please.”

Pulling back for just a moment, he breathes hard, chest rising and falling rapidly as he thumbs at your clit and you moan, rolling your head to the side as you catch his eyes. But they aren’t on you. They’re on your pussy and your face warms as he stares, mesmerized.

Eddie’s hand comes to rest on your mound as he thumbs at your clit. Dimples carve into his cheeks as he smiles lazily when you twitch. “So messy for me.”

You’re pouting down at him, out of breath when he spits thickly onto your already soaked cunt, the coolness of his saliva on your warm skin making your hips stutter and causing a gasp to slip past your lips.

It’s too much and you have to look away again, dropping your head back and shutting your eyes. Just feeling.

“Mmh,” Eddie hums before you feel him spreading his spit around your pussy with his thumb.

“Please-” You whine, but it morphs into a moan as he quickly dives back in, licking and sucking, completely brazen in his love for your taste. But you’re just as brazen, hips rolling into his mouth, practically riding his face. Eddie takes it in stride, reaching up underneath your shirt with his only free hand to pinch your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Your back arches off the carpet and you gasp sharply.

He kneads at your breast as his tongue and fingers become sloppy between your legs. Eddie shakes his head back and forth rapidly, no doubt staining his cheeks and chin with your wetness. All you can do is cry out, and moan, and babble on about how good he feels.

Your orgasm builds, that delicious burning sensation swirling and growing in your belly. “Eddie. Eddie! Gonna-”

But you can’t even get the words out as he groans, the vibration sending shivers up your spine, only pushing you closer to the edge.

Without pulling away fully, Eddie mutters roughly against your pussy, “Say it again.”

It takes you a moment to process his words. And when you do you don’t fully understand. Until you do.

Eddie is such a giver. He never tires of burying his face between your thighs and eating you out until you’re shaking in his arms, until you’re crying from the overstimulation as he goes in for seconds.

But he likes receiving praise for it too. Likes to hear how good he’s making you feel. Likes to hear his name on your tongue. At this point it’s the only word you can remember anyway.

“Eddie! Please, Eddie! Eddie,” You say his name like a prayer.

He becomes an animal, going wild at the sound of his name leaving your lips.

You’re so desperate to cum as you grind into his mouth, Eddie grunting, squeezing your breast in his hand, his other still working over your clit. You remove a hand from where it's tangled in his hair and cover the hand that kneads over your chest, back arching.

When he begins the lethal combination of plunging his middle and ring finger into your tight, wet heat as he practically makes out with your pussy, you’re at your tipping point. The feeling of his lips kissing your clit, then his tongue darting out to have a proper taste as he sucks it into his mouth makes your brows furrow as you moan for him.

One final thrust of his fingers inside of you and one last mean nip at your clit has your orgasm crashing over you, and your body convulses. Eddie continues to lick and fuck you with his tongue and fingers as you ride it out, cursing and moaning as you do. The feeling spreads everywhere, from your cunt, to your belly, to your chest, all the way down to your toes.

Heat spreads beneath your skin as you slowly come down, chest heaving with shallow breaths.

Eddie pulls away and you mewl when he playfully slaps the top of your cunt, making your clit flutter in sensitivity.

Groaning lowly, Eddie climbs on top of you and you finally open your eyes.

Your view is wonderful. His waves shield you from the lamplight, his mouth and cheeks glisten slightly as he grins down at you, and pieces of his fringe stick to his forehead which is covered in a light layer of sweat.

Smiling languidly up at him, you reach up and brush his hair back from his face, the fire in your belly briefly heating up again at the feel of his hard cock nudging against your bare thigh.

“Feel good?”

Licking your lips, you nod, your body limp and tired.

“Good,” Eddie whispers, leaning in and pressing a quick kiss to your mouth. You can still taste yourself on his tongue.

He strokes your face lovingly with the back of his clean hand. “Still feeling floaty?”

“Mhm,” you respond, completely blissed out, assuming he’s referring to the weed.

He hums thoughtfully, eyes flickering down to your lips for a moment before meeting your eyes again, a mischievous glint sparkling in his.

“Can I tell you a secret?” He whispers cheekily and you nod.

Eddie leans down so his mouth is level with your right ear. “I wanna go again.”

***

Thank you so much for reading! If you liked it, please reblog!

#😵💫#eddie munson #stranger things #fave #fic recs #18+#minors dni

2K notes · View notes

thegunslingerstragedy · 2 months

Text

We’re more ghosts than people.

#arthur my lovee 😭#this is so beautiful op #the soft colors and details are making me so happy and fuzzy <3 #arthur morgan #rdr2 #fave #wonderful art

3K notes · View notes

thegunslingerstragedy · 2 months

Text

Rough! And sketches. Inaccurate design. I hate drawing Dutch's hat! Porfa quemalo 🙏 png = 101 mb to 16 mb 😅

#rough?? i think you mean absolutely gorgeous 😍😍#the colors you used are insane and so beautiful #dutch van der linde #arthur morgan #rdr2 #fave #wonderful art

2K notes · View notes

thegunslingerstragedy · 2 months

Text

i needed to get this out of my system that's all thank you

#brienne!!!#this is so lovely and i’m obsessed #how is the armor literally perfect??#incredible attention to detail friend <3 #brienne of tarth #got #game of thrones #fave #wonderful art

1K notes · View notes

thegunslingerstragedy · 2 months

Text

𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡? | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧

you finally work up the courage to kiss Eddie for the first time and he can’t cope (even if he claims he can). 2k words. requested here

cw fem!reserved/shy!reader, first kiss, heavy kissing, mutual pining, eddie being a hot dork

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Some people (Steve) call Eddie your loser boyfriend, while other people (the girls at work) call him the rockstar.

You see both sides of him now.

“Sweetheart!” he calls, the passenger seat window rolled down, his voice strong where he shouts behind the wheel. The van bumps the curve, leaving a sanguine line of rust in its wake and a creak to make everybody on the sidewalk wince.

“Hello,” you call back.

The van hums. You wait for him to be at a definite stop before you approach, hands on the open window, leaning up so as to see him best. It’s not just a usual date night tonight, Eddie’s taking you to Indianapolis for a rock show, and he’s dressed the part. “Woah, you look cool,” you say, bravely, wondering if that’s the right thing to say. It’s undoubtedly true —he’s slicked his curls with mousse to define them and leave them pitch black in accordance with his eyeshadow, dark and tapped into his lash line. The top he wears is incredibly tight, carving the softer lines of his abs for anyone to see, and his black jacket is ripped in places to expose the ink of his tattoos. “Are they multiplying?”

“What?” he asks, grinning at you. “Are you getting in? It’s freezing!”

“Your tattoos,” you explain, opening the door and popping up into the van with one shoe on the step.

“Shit, you wanna see?”

You’re not scared of Eddie, you just like him. He doesn’t worry you, doesn’t pressure you, nothing nefarious about him. He’s pretty, he’s considerate, and he does stuff like this, peeling out of his jacket to flex his arm at you and show you the Saran wrapping around his bicep. “Like that one?” he asks.

He has nice arms, and they’re all the better for his painful obsession. His newest one is difficult to see well under the wrapping. He notices you squinting and moves it up, tape pulling his skin.

“Another bat?” you ask.

“Not cool?”

“So cool,” you disagree. This bat is unlike the others on his arm, which are small and simple in comparison. This one is heavily detailed and very dark, fangs in small triangles bared. The eyes aglow. The skin around it is red. “Did you get that today?”

“On a whim. Still wanna date me, or is it getting to be too much?”

You can’t answer him, and he knows that. You’re not very good at navigating intimate conversation or circumstance, though you like him, and he must know that too. Or he must really like you. Your dates have been chaste. Only last time could you work up the courage to take his hand, but when you had, he rewarded your courage with a drove of tenderness, fingers rubbing your knuckles and squeezing soft patterns for hours at the back of the movie theatre.

The drive to Indianapolis takes near enough an hour. Eddie puts you on map duty but doesn’t use it, ignoring your offer of directions on the insistence that he knows a shortcut and then rerouting when you get too lost. He tells you there are snacks for you in the centre console and laughs, endeared, when you pop the lid and smile at it all. You talk about the show, a band you’d never heard of but had wanted to see on the grounds of sharing his interests. That’s what couples do, right? They try to do things together. You have to put yourself out of your comfort zone, and you’re happy to try if it means you can do it with him.

“You nervous?” he asks, pulling into the parking garage outside of the venue, a towering, multi-story fiasco crammed with cars and motorbikes.

“No,” you say, not quite mumbling as you look down at your hands.

“Good, don’t be. I’m gonna look after you, we’re gonna have a great time. And then we can get takeout after?” You look up. He stretches his arm out to glance at his watch. “I would’ve taken you before, but good old Indianapolis keeps getting further away.” He smiles apologetically.

You laugh without meaning to. His smile ramps up a notch.

“I love when you laugh. You have such a cute laugh,” he says.

“I know you’re lying,” you say, still laughing anyways.

“I’m not lying, I love the way you laugh!” He shakes his head, curls falling away from his face as he flicks on the light on the car roof. “We have half an hour till doors open.”

“You don’t wanna line up?”

“It’s kind of overwhelming and I figured we’d stay near the back of the crowd for your first gig here, it gets pretty rowdy.” He says ‘pretty rowdy’ like a drag, nodding gently, eyes lit with mirth. You love it when he talks like that.

“We can go now, get further in. I can handle it.”

“It’s not about handling it, I want you to have a good time. Plus, they could ruin your nice dress.”

You meet his gaze all smiles like he is, but heat flickers in your chest and in your stomach, and you have to look away. It’s an impulse you’ve always given into. You’re reserved in the feelings department but trying not to be, Eddie deserves reciprocation, but it’s hard. Either way, he seems to understand this about you, and he hasn’t complained.

Still, a bedraggled silence falls. Nearly awkward, unsure of how to tread, you sit together in your separate seats listening to cars parking and doors opening, closing on either side of you, the headlights of the cars driving past glaringly bright, white flashing over your screwed palms.

“You okay?” he asks.

You’re sure Eddie wants to kiss you. Three nights ago at the movies, after an hour of languid hand holding, he’d looked at your lips no less than three times as he said good night. He told you he’d had an amazing time, and that he couldn’t wait to see you again. You’d said the same in earnest, and then he’d just walked away. All those stolen glances and he hadn’t made a move.

“Eddie… why…” You poke your tongue into your bottom lip momentarily, chewing it over. “Why haven’t we kissed yet?”

“Um–” He lets out a nervous giggle before roughly clearing his throat. You peek at him, watching intently as he takes his hair away from his face with two hands. “I’m just waiting on you, sweetheart. No pressure.” He laughs as he talks, a picture of panic, “You’re sort of shy about that stuff, you know? I didn’t wanna surprise you.”

“But you do want to kiss me?” you ask unsurely.

He puts his hand on your knee, the space between you suddenly smaller and warmer, the light like white glaze on his pupils, illuminating his finer details. He has a mole nestled under his eyelashes too small to see until now; it catches your attention. You stare at him too long.

“Of course I do,” he says, eyebrows pinching together in concern. “I’ve wanted to kiss you since I met you.”

You nod and snap your head back to your lap. Why does he have to be so nice? You wish you’d listened to Steve, even if he was joking, you shouldn’t have ever said yes to Eddie, because now you’re terrified you can’t kiss him and you’ll ruin everything…

“Hey, it’s fine. I’m not waiting for anything. You can take your time or you could never kiss me, and I won’t care. I swear. I mean, I really want you to kiss me but I’ll find a way to cope, I’m sure.” He takes his hand from your leg softly. “Do you want my jacket? It’s cold out, n’ we should probably start walking.”

You pull your head up slowly.

He reads your hesitant expression. “I’m in no rush,” he promises, head ever so slightly ducked to yours.

Okay, you think. Okay, I can do this. You hold your breath and start to lean in. He falters, a millisecond of misunderstanding, before he recognises what you’re doing and smiles. He reaches for your waist with enough care to give you a chance to change your mind, and when you’re close enough to feel his breath, his lashes shutter.

You follow suit, blind, with nothing but your intuition as you press your lips to his.

With a feeling like the hum of the engine under your hands, you bring your fingers to his soft cheek and hold him still. He breathes in harshly, touches you far from it, his palm slipping behind your back to pull you in. You lean into it; it feels natural to give in, to turn your head one way and part your lips, to have him kiss back with heat and surprising sweetness.

You feel unlike yourself in a good way, falling back to kiss forward again, a third time, trying to chase the lulling bliss of his lips. The stomach aching want. Your hand chases across his cheek and into the curls behind his ear, needing him closer but not expecting the sound it elicits. He sighs into your lips and you flinch back, startled by the sensation.

Eddie rubs your back with his index finger, unjudging as you drop your head to catch your breath.

“You okay?” he asks quietly. You can hear his affection. It’s palpable.

You nod, a dizzy weight collected in your forehead, thankful when his free hand catches your cheek and he turns your face gently to the side. “I got too hot,” you confess, only half of the truth.

“It was pretty hot.” He smiles at you like you’re the only person in the world, like you’ve a secret only he knows. “Want me to turn on the A/C?”

“No, I–” want to kiss you again, you think. You might even tell him so, but he starts to blow on your face, disrupting any thoughts you’d had earlier. He purses his lips and blows cold breath on your cheek, a tenderness in his gaze and the tip of his thumb where it rests just under your eye. “Oh.”

This might be the most romantic thing anyone’s ever done for you. Your face feels precious in his careful hand, pretty under his longing look. You’re not scared when he encourages you back to his lips, your eyes quick to close, your hands across the gap of your seats to gather his shirt between tight fingers.

His kiss is a reflection of him. Loser, rockstar, he’s eager and his hands start to betray that, his kissing melty hot and addictive as the tip of his nose presses hard to yours. You turn your face to accommodate him better and that small action drives him crazy. He’s pulling you in, smiling into your mouth, making breathy sounds that’ll stick around in your head ten times as long as the tingles filling your chest as just kisses and kisses and doesn’t stop.

“M’sorry,” he says, pulling away, and then stealing another heavy, soft kiss like he couldn’t wait. “Sorry,” he apologises again, stroking the skin beside your eye to encourage you into opening them. “I’m not trying to get carried away. Just can’t believe you just kissed me.”

“No, it’s okay, I– I really wanted to.”

He kisses your cheek. You aren’t expecting it and you don’t know how to deal with it. It’s like kissing him has invigorated him, you’re a shot he knocked back, his excitement catching as he begs, “Close your eyes again, sweetheart, just one more–”

You raise your chin and he practically gasps, immediately pressing a last chaste kiss to your burning lips.

“I’m not always like this,” he promises, leaning away, his fingertips falling from your face to trace down your neck, your shoulder. “You’re just so fucking pretty I lost my mind. I’m on best behaviour from now on, swears.”

He raises his hand up in a scout’s honour.

You breathe out happily. “Thank you.”

“Oh my god. Quick, we better get out of this van before I lose my mind.” He shakes his head. “You’re insane. I have such a crush on you, holy fuck,” —he turns away from you and gets out of the van— “Jesus.”

You pull down the sun visor to check your reflection in the mirror. You look thoroughly kissed, eyes aglow with it.

“Fuck!” Eddie swears. You beam at yourself as he wraps on the window. “Come on, sweetheart! I have a concert to pretend to pay attention to.”

You slink out of your seat, brave enough to try for another kiss so long as it doesn’t kill him dead right here in the parking lot.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

please like/reblog or comment if you enjoyed! I love knowing what you think and it means so much to me/ inspires me to write even more!!! <3 but of course I hope you enjoyed reading regardless :D

#jadeee this is the cutest and literally just made my entire day #thank you thank you thank you for this #he’s so fucking sweet 😭 the way you write him is actual perfection #ugh my heart yearns so badly for him #beautiful read as always <3 #eddie munson #stranger things #fave #fic recs

5K notes · View notes

thegunslingerstragedy · 2 months

Text

ata tu corazón, mi amor, y arrástralo por la tierra

#this is SO gorgeous my love what??#i adore the simplicity of this piece and the colors you used are so lovely + warm :)#the dark background enhances them so nicely #also the level of detail?? wow #amazing #javier escuella #rdr2 #fave #wonderful art

2K notes · View notes

thegunslingerstragedy · 3 months

Text

Eddie Munson x fem!reader

“You don’t have to.”

“I know. But I want to.”

It had become a call and response of sorts, a mantra that Eddie seemed to live by, if not only for you. Usually his words were followed up by a kiss, something sweet pressed to your cheek. Or he’d pull you into him by your belt loops, hands a little rough but his intentions always soft, his face dropping to the crook of your neck so he could nuzzle his nose there, like he didn’t really know how else he could possibly give you all the love he had for you.

So when your car inevitably gave up, the clutch grinding and the gears sticking, Eddie didn’t hesitate. You didn’t even ask, always feeling bad for expecting but it didn’t come to a surprise when he took your keys from you and dropped a kiss to the corner of your mouth, a little off kilter from the early morning sleep that still clung to him.

“Eddie,” you began, as usual. Soft and shy and guilt ridden. “You don’t have to. I know you’re busy right now.”

“Never too busy for my girl,” he responded, wincing a little as he dug out his chocolate pop-tart from the still too hot toaster. He’d learnt the hard way not to use a knife anymore. He tore off a piece of pastry, a sprinkle on his cheek, ruby red. “Besides, what do I tell you, huh? I know I don’t have to - I want to, sweetheart.”

He grinned when you scrunched your nose, embarrassment and too much love clinging to you, Eddie’s adoration too obvious when he leaned down to where you sat with your coffee. He let you brush away the sprinkle, grumbling about how he was saving it for later but his protests died off on his lips when you stole them for a kiss, your hands on his stubbly cheeks.

The boy was pink when you pulled back, pleased looking and much more awake. Then, Eddie winked as he spun your keys around own finger, the rest of his breakfast bitten between his teeth as he left for work, always a flurry bed mussed curls and silver chains.

When he didn’t arrive home by five, you knew exactly why. It wasn’t too long a walk to the garage, but you knew he’d scold you all the same. That’s why you had a Tupperware box full of pasta in your hands, a foil wrapped cookie on top, still warm from when you’d pulled it from the oven.

Sure enough, when you arrived at the almost empty garage, your boyfriend was the only one left working. You passed Wayne as you ducked under the half closed shutter, sharing the same fond look of faux annoyance that you pretended to both have for the younger Munson and you promised the man there was more pasta for him at home.

Eddie didn’t see you approach, too busy with half of his body under the hood of your car, poking and prodding it with tools you didn’t know the name of. You made sure to make enough noise before you rested a hand on the small of his back, fingers skating over the bare strip of skin left exposed between his shirt and jeans.

His smile was too much when he appeared from the car, always happy to see you. And like you thought he would, despite his grin and the way his eyes lit up, he grumbled:

“What’re you doin walkin’ half way across town on your own, huh?”

You rolled your eyes even if you didn’t mean it, your expression still fond and you pushed his dinner to his chest. He accepted the food with a happy hum, peeking into the container to eye it appreciatively.

“It’s a twenty minute walk, handsome,” you replied. “And it’s very much still light out.” You smiled at his worry because the evening behind you was barely beginning, the summer sun still high enough in the sky to keep the sidewalks golden, the warmth lingering.

Eddie grumbled again, no real heat behind it as he leaned in for a kiss, careful not to put his dirty hands on you. “Still. You’re too pretty to walkin’ around alone.” Another kiss, this one softer, longer. “Thanks for dinner, sweetheart.”

You beamed, happy to have helped. “Least I can do since you’re fixing my car.” You frowned at the vehicle like it had offended you. “How’s it looking?”

“She’ll live,” Eddie sighed dramatically, giving the roof a pat. “If you remember to change her oil, that is.”

Your cheeks burned.

“But I’ve sorted the clutch, so that shouldn’t stick anymore and there’s a part needed for the gearbox, but I’ve got that on order,” the boy bit into his cookie, desperate for sugar. He moaned, a sinful noise that was meant for both you and the chocolate. “Hopefully it’ll be here tomorrow so I’ll do one more late night, get this hunka’ junk back on the road for you in no time.”

You knew it was a fruitless effort to ask Eddie to let you pay in anyway. Hell, Wayne would shut you down just as hard. Eddie didn’t want you paying for any of his hourly rates, overtime or not. And as he’d told you before, costs for parts could get lost sometimes, receipts slipping down the backs of desks, never to be seen again.

So you smiled at him instead, soft and sweet and warm like the summer. You didn’t mind the oil stains on his shirt as you leaned in, hands against his torso, feeling the faint lines of muscles and soft skin there.

“Thank you,” you murmured against his lips, stretching up on your toes to bump your nose against his. A kiss, tasting like chocolate chips, lingering and lazy. “I love you.”

Eddie went shy like he’d never heard you say the words before. Maybe you didn’t say them enough, maybe you needed to remind him hourly, especially if it got him looking at you like that, eyes all wide and soft and awe filled.

He pecked your lips, your cheek, your jaw, nose pushing at the space under your ear as he told you the same. “I love you too, pretty.”

You didn’t need to hear it back, as nice as the words sounded on his lips. Eddie showed you how much he loved you every single day.

#i miss him :(#this is sickeningly sweet and beautifully written darling <3 i love your descriptions #reading this felt like a warm hug #eddie munson #wayne munson #fave

1K notes · View notes