#Chrissy is touch starved | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

whosjunglejim4322 · 2 years ago

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Reconcile- E.M (S)

Smut!, fluff because uhm how could I not, angst! cause you guys are pent up from stress and this is basically a make up sex fic teehee, mentions of weed, brief arguing, Y’all just desperate and gross, Eddie fucks you till you cry and talks you through it like the slut he is, he cums inside of you, makes sure to fuck all that attitude away, PUSSY EATING, very graphic descriptions of passionate n nasty intercourse

You hadn’t foreseen this happening.

Sure, you and Ed’s have gotten into little disputes before. Petty, insignificant quarrels about whether or not the other person actually took out the garbage or who would pay next date night. Two years is still short to some, for you and Eddie it felt like forever and yesterday all in the same universe. Heavenly, and mundane.

But this is a different beast all together. This morning makes day two that you two have had this weird, suffocating energy between both of you. The antagonist of this situation, is undoubtedly the conversation that was had at Steve’s weekend hangout.

A few hits from a joint, a shot or two of tequila and goofy sentences being passed around between two best friends. You and Robin being the spectators, content in your own little bubble, puffing on a spliff of your own. Heavy, fluffy blankets kept you warm, gave you weight to lean on when your head began to feel like it might float away.

The Christmas lights and the hum of the deep freezer in the corner of Steve’s basement almost distracted you completely in your haze, until it didn’t. Until Chrissy Cunningham came up. Until it was an innocent giggling fit about whether or not Chrissy ever had a crush on Eddie, the oxymoron in and of itself.

“Imagine that ever happening,” Steve chuckled, lightheartedly, taking a sip of his Diet Pepsi. “can’t say I can’t see it. She wanted you for sure, dude.”

Your ears twitched. Eyes thinning into inquisitive slits. Nothing about Steve’s tone was meant to be rude, or disrespectful, but the nature of the comment itself felt awkward and uncomfortable underneath your skin.

You almost turned your attention back to the Walkman blasting David Bowie. Almost.

“I saw her the other day, she came in for an oil change. Honestly, I never would’ve even thought she wanted me,” Eddie takes another rip of his bong. “But then she asked me if I do at home visits. Said she wanted to catch up with me.”

Maybe your reptilian brain overreacted. Or, maybe it didn’t. Honestly, you don’t blame yourself completely for the way you reacted after that statement. Nothing else he said after that mattered. All you could hear was your heartbeat in your own ears. Loud, thunderous

“I told her I wouldn’t do that, obviously.”

White noise.

And not only were you intoxicated, but you were already burnt out from work and school, touch starved from not having any time with your boyfriend as of late. A period of your current reality that you know will pass as all things do in life; but it was too much. This hangout was supposed to be somewhat intimate, something for you to both do together. A simplicity that normally wouldn’t even have to be mentioned. You and Eddie exist on the same axis.

The blanket became too heavy and the smoke in the room threatened to choke you further. You all but threw the fluffy cover off of you and stormed out. You heard Robin call after you, and Eddie. A pair of voices that meshed together like the drum line in a song that is so in sync with the guitar chorus that you can barely decipher it. The steps spin, but you manage to stay upright.

Cold November air chilled your face, your neck. You too a deep breath in while marching to the van parked just a few feet away on the newly slabbed pavement of Steve’s home. His parents are at their lake house so often that Steve claims their Hawkins residence as his own.

Predictably, a heavy thump of boots followed closely behind you. The scrape of worn soles and the squeak of an old leather jacket. A billow of smoke follows him, clings onto him like jasmine and rosemary to the freshly bathed. Your back felt like the warning signs at a crossroad. He felt helpless.

“Baby, hey,” he sounded breathless, desperate and confused. He’s never seen you so upset that you’d just walk out unprompted. “stop walking god dammit, please.”

You stopped reluctantly, the tears of frustration in your waterline blurring your vision of the violet, cloudless skyline. A wide, warm palm touched your shoulder and the heat seared you even through your hoodie. You flinched away instinctively, sore in your limbs from your own concoction of emotions. When you met his eyes, they were wide. Like a deer staring down the barrel of a gun in its own home.

Your face must have been something to see. A scowl, a mirror of sadness reflected in his umber eyes. Angry. He’d never seen you look at him that way. It felt like having his intestines twisted between two cold hands.

“You didn’t tell me that happened.”

You stated it plainly, but spitefully in nature. Your voice cracked and it made a brewing tear spill over your waterline and down the plump of your cheek. He had the overwhelming urge to comfort you, but knew he couldn’t. Knew you would likely flinch away like you did five seconds ago and he didn’t think he would physically be able to bear you trying to get away from him again.

He didn’t exactly know what was making you so upset. The conversation wasn’t anything he wouldn’t have said in front of you, which is why all of it was said in front of you. Perhaps his own intoxication made it hard to fully understand the velocity of his words, what they meant and how they could’ve been interpreted from your point of view.

“I didn’t think it was important.” His thick brows scrunched and deepened the wrinkle between them. You looked like your eyes might bulge out of your head.

You nearly choked on your own spit, the words to your reply getting caught square in the middle of your throat; and so you said nothing. You stepped forward, and then past him. And he realized too late that you were walking away from him.

“I’m gonna ask Steve to take me home.”

He was too stunned to speak. To react. To stop you, to plead for you to tell him what he did wrong. Or at least how to fix it. He felt himself crumble on the inside, like his bones were made of ash.

When he got back to the trailer that night, you weren’t there. And that’s when it all really set in. That he fucked up. For the past two weeks you’ve been here with him, playing house while Wayne caught a gig further up north. He thought, he thought that when you said home, maybe you meant here. With him.

He called that night, almost ten times. You answered on the eighth.

“I’m at my apartment Ed’s, I’m fine. I don’t want to argue, or talk. I just need to be by myself right now.”

He felt paralyzed by the pang in his chest. More so, he felt angry. Genuinely angry, and not just at himself, but selfishly, at you.

“Fine, glad you’re safe.”

He nearly broke the fucking landline.

Your eyes have to adjust to the brightness of your living room. Well, your bedroom, slash living room, slash kitchen. A studio in Hawkins is relatively affordable, but they aren’t lying when they say it’s a studio. The events from yesterday scream in your head instantly, along with the pounding of your pulse. Your bed is almost unfamiliar at this point, the blankets not worn enough, the sheets the scent of fresh dryer sheets instead of you and Eddie’s shared scent.

The beeping of your answering machine pulls you back down to reality, though not one you want to participate in currently. Unfortunately, you have no other choice.

They’re all from Eddie of course, and now that you’re not high you feel those wounds from the night before coming back, sticking you in the chest, ribs, liver. Along with the pain, you feel guilty. For your less than mature reaction. Though you know you can’t blame yourself, not having ever been in that situation. You’re human and reacted as so. But he’s your Eddie.

You listen to the last message, sent twenty five minutes ago.

“I’m coming over in thirty minutes, I don’t care if you don’t want to see me. We are going to talk this out. I love you.”

You huff in frustration, though you can’t say you aren’t relieved. Relieved that he’s coming, that he’s not giving up over some quarrel about Chrissy Cunningham. You have a tendency to think the entire world is caving in around you upon one minor inconvenience. This disruption in your daily routine feels like Armageddon.

You have time to brush your teeth and rinse the remaining paste off of your mouth before your front door opens. If you didn’t recognize his footsteps so well, it might be off putting to have someone just waltz into your home.

The bathroom door is open, so he spots you immediately, slipping off his worn in boots and placing them beside the door. He takes his leather jacket off and puts it over the stool that sits at your kitchen island. It makes your face hot, still. The ease in which you two have melded into each others lives. Even if you’re angry at him.

“I don’t know what to say, Ed’s.” It’s a lie. You walk past him to the kitchen and open the fridge, hiding from his gaze as you pretend to search for something. He clears his throat and you reluctantly close the refrigerator door, staring at the floor and backing yourself against the sink.

“I just - you’ve never left. Without telling me. Or talking to me. And, fuck I-“ he’s stammering already, taking steady breaths and pinching the bridge of his nose. “I didn’t think I had to tell you about an insignificant interaction with Chrissy Cunningham.”

You scoff, although it’s more of a giggle. And he looks at you like you’ve just lost your mind. Rare, for Eddie Munson to think someone else has lost their mind.

“Well you and Steve sure seemed to enjoy talking about it. You both were pretty giddy discussing whether or not Chrissy wanted to, or, sorry -“ you’re being defensive. Rude. You can’t help it. “wants to fuck you. Why would I want to hear about that? Why would I want to hear you guys talk about whether or not you both can see you and Chrissy together? Does that not sound incredibly fucked up, Ed’s?”

So much for not talking. Now it’s spilling out like a cracked flower vase. Your chest is heaving rapidly, face and body hot with anger. Your arms are crossed across your chest, a protection against whatever it is he might say, despite the fact that you’re the one who’s being rhetorical.

He shoves his ringed fingers into his hair, scratching his scalp and pulling lightly at the roots as he closes his eyes, contemplating. Seeing things through your eyes, attempting to. He winces.

“That’s not what we were trying to say,” he bites his cheek. “I mean I know it doesn’t matter what we were trying to say, the conversation shouldn’t have happened, but I can’t take it back. For fucks sake.”

He’s murmuring to himself, rubbing his rough palms over his tired face. He’s wearing one of your favorite tee shirts of his to steal. Iron Maiden. The sleeves are short enough to reveal the splattering of ink that crawls up his biceps. When his muscles move underneath his skin, the ink moves with them. It’s captured your attention suddenly, and now you’re raking your eyes over his entire figure.

Familiar black sweats cling onto his lower half. They fit perfectly on his lithe waist, loose on the rest. Except for his ass. He has a really cute ass. And these sweats specifically accentuate the shape before billowing down his thighs.

“Baby? You with me?”

The low timbre of his voice shakes you from your reverie. You’ve simmered off, the anger replaced with a different heat. It’s been too long since the two of you have just been together, this fight might be the most communication you’ve had in the past week due to your jobs, and school. Or the worries of the world, the overwhelming need to sleep when you aren’t working, to work when you aren’t sleeping.

You’ve forgotten about each other. Briefly, but not inevitably. Never that. You feel like you may collapse.

“I’m- yeah I’m with you.”

You let out a sigh, uncrossing your arms. You look and sound as defeated as you feel. He can’t pretend to not have noticed your silky, thin sleeping gown, but he is just a man. And your nipples are hard underneath the garment and he has never not thought you’re one of the most beautiful creatures he’s ever seen. You haven’t worn it in a while, preferring his clothes to sleep in since you’ve been staying with him. He missed seeing you like this.

He steps closer. Tentatively, afraid you might run away from him. You sense his hesitancy and a piece of your heart breaks, the piece where he lives. You meet his eyes, silently inviting him, glancing from his mouth then back up to his softening gaze. You watch his Adam’s Apple bob in his throat.

“I’m sorry.” He says, earnestly. His hands threaten to tremble when you reach out and grab them, heavy in your own. He hovers above you the closer he gets, your limbs connecting in a symbiotic way. One you feel the others skin, you can’t get away from it. Not until you’re pressed together, belly to belly, your chin tilted upward.

“You - ugh.” You can’t get words out anymore. They dissolve in your larynx and your head falls, the need to cry or scream or kiss him an overwhelming choice.

“I know baby, I know. I’m sorry.” He pats down your hair, rough thumbs caressing the softness of your cheeks. He pulls your face upwards again, staring down at you with regret, adoration, hunger.

“I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have just left.”

He leans closer, till you smell the coffee on his breath and the hazelnut creamer alike. Your noses bump and rub against the other, his thick eyelashes fanning across his own cheekbones - casting a fluttery shadow.

“It’s okay now. We’re okay now.” He says it softly, just between the little space left between you two. “Let me take care of it. Please.” He closes the gap.

Some people assume it’s not supposed to feel as good as it does, kissing someone who’s lips you’ve mapped out like an atlas. That couldn’t be further from the truth, because kissing Eddie feels like being consumed.

And not just metaphorically, because it’s evident in the nips to your bottom lip, the sucking of your tongue whenever he feels it lick his teeth; that your small period of separation, and longer period of not having indulged each other, has weighed heavily on him as well. He’s starving.

You’re overtaken within seconds by the veracity of his mouth, your fingers taking purchase in the curls at his crown. Smacks and kisses and wet noises fill the small space, and the center of your stomach swells with a simmering heat. A reminder of how neglectful you both have been. Your nipples harden against him, as his dick twitches between his legs.

You feel nervous. Tentative. Excited.

His hands implore you like a new discovery, grasping at your back, and then down the sensitive slopes of your sides and over the plushness of your hips. Through the silky nightgown the sensation is riveting, enough to drive a person insane. You arch against him, and a whimper escapes your mouth into his throat.

“Mmm, mhm.” He groans.

“Eddie,” it’s a cry, wanton sound that makes him rut himself against you instinctively. Anything to relieve you. Anything to relieve himself. “baby.”

He smiles against your mouth, pecking it a few times before departing only for a second to see your kiss bitten lips, his and your spit coating your mouth. Your blown out pupils. He mirrors your appearance, like a wild creature.

“Never again,” his index fingers knuckle strokes the inside of your thigh, and you shudder, holding onto his broad shoulders for an anchor. You separate your legs without thinking. “we will never go through this again. I’m gonna make sure of it.”

Three knuckles stroke your pubic mound, then down your covered slit where dampness threatens to leak. Your fingernails grip his shirt, eyebrows furrowed and lips parted in anticipation. He’s so warm, so palpable. You want him to bury himself inside of you.

He’s in front of you, and then he’s not. You blink, and hair tickles your thighs like you’re frolicking through an overgrown field. Strong, rough hands lift the delicate silk of your nightie until it’s being bunched between ringed fingers above your navel. He’s on his knees, devout for you.

You gasp when his tongue broadens against your center. Your panties are just enough barrier to make you wanna cry out in desperation, while also offering enough sensation to not dare stop for even a moment to pull them off. You’re at his mercy. Or is he at yours? Neither of you know anymore, and it’s not important.

Not when he gets a taste of you. Not when he peers up at you between lust sodden lashes and sees you looking down at him like you’re about to crumble. Your knees shake and he bunches the nightie in one fist instead of two, placing his free hand on the back of your thighs to steady you while he soaks your underwear with the spit from his tongue.

The shape of your slit and the plump lips around it begins to show its phantom form through the material from the soaking. He sucks, prods with the tip of his wet muscle.

“Ed’s, fuck.” Your voice is so weak. His cock weeps in his sweats, dribbling with copious amounts of precum. It’s torturous to not touch himself but he’s too focused on watching you, pleasing you. You hums against your mound, mocking you.

He pulls the elastic to the side, not patient enough to take them off all the way. You get to see his face for a split second, cherry red cheeks and a messy halo of hair and stubble on his chin. And then, you feel it.

His nose keeps your lips separated, his tongue already splayed against the soft, sensitive flesh between them. You’re slick and sticky and coating the lower half of his face, though you have trouble grasping onto the helms of reality when he’s licking your pussy like this. He shakes his head from side to side, tongue still flat until he’s spreading your thighs farther, so that he can lick your honey from the source.

“Hold it.” He mumbles, struggling to hand the falling material of your night gown to your shaking hands, though you get the memo when it threatens to cover his head completely. You use one hand to hold it, and the other to tug at his hair.

You can barely hear anything another than the sloppy wetness of his mouth working on you, and the sound of your own heartbeat, but you’re sure you’re whining. You can feel the rawness of your throat as you let your head fall back and cry to the ceiling, feeling the need to tear up.

You grip the roots of his locks, rocking against his mouth like you’ve got no other choice. He hums, encouraged by every squeak and moan that comes out of you, by every drip of your cunt and tensing of your muscles.

He doesn’t care that your thighs are squeezing around his head, or that you can barely hold yourself together. You’re using his face like second nature and his cock weeps in his pants. He feels himself throbbing in tandem with the pulsing of your hole around his tongue.

Then he pulls your lips apart with his thumbs, revealing the pink bud that resides underneath your hood, suckling and coating it with enough spit to drip onto the floor.

“Oh god,” you pant “m’gonna cum. Please don’t stop please please please.”

You’re throttled, and not just by the pleasure but by how fast you’re descending into your own madness. You can’t hear much of anything, see anything but the back of your own eyelids - and your boyfriend is using half of his strength to keep your body upwards as you threaten to wilt.

He doesn’t stop, per your request but to your ultimate demise. You feel yourself leaking as your clit throbs from the aftershocks of a powerful - much needed and thoroughly missed, orgasm.

You think you might pass out, but he feels the trembling in your body and despite his need to keep going until you’re completely done for, all but comatose- he stops.

Through your clouded and hazy senses, your hands tug at his face, his head, his neck. Lazily you attempt to pull him up from his knees, and it’s not your strength that does it, it’s his own. But he lets you believe you pulled him to your mouth, before he even has the chance to wipe your essence off. Not that he cares to.

Your tongues collide in a messy exploration, he’s rough and saccharine and sweet all at once. Your paw at him like you’ve never felt him before, like he didn’t just have his mouth on your most private of parts.

“I need you in me.” You slur the words between open mouthed kisses. He’s pressed so flush against you that you can feel his dick throbbing, and you’re not sure if the wetness is your own or his. Perhaps both.

You’re hungry for it. He’s still starving, and your fingers clumsily pull the waistband of his sweats down until they’re pooled at his ankles. You wrap your hand around the thick member, angrily red at the tip, veins bulging from either side. The thatch of curly hair at his base is covered by his shirt but you don’t have the energy to remove it- to do anything other than ogle at the blood rushing through him, the feel of his pulse through his manhood. He throws his head back for a split second, taking a deep breath.

You turn around, facing the sink and resting your cheek against the cool metal of the edge. You offer yourself to him like this, an invitation in the form of a leaking cunt and buckling knees. His hands, rough and wide pull this godforsaken nightgown up and over the swell of your ass, knuckles grazing the back of your thighs in the process.

You want to look at him but you’re far too flustered, ironically. It’s completely idiotic to still be embarrassed at your own need for your own boyfriend - but someone as beautiful as Eddie doesn’t come around very often. Getting to do this feels like retribution.

“You’re so pretty,” he groans, out of breath. He crudely spits on his cock, you can hear the slick sounds of his precum mixing with his saliva as he strokes himself a few times, one hand on your left hip while he guides his mauve tip to your slit.

“I’m gonna fuck all that attitude away baby.”

The stretch is jarring and unexpected, but the sounds you both make as he sticks himself passed your gummy entrance isn’t. You grip the counter, and he leans his weight over you so that he can mouth at your shoulders while he pushes himself in to the hilt- kissing your cervix before his cock moved around it.

“Yeah?” He taunts, hair tickling your back and lips smearing kisses against your nape. “You’re so goddamn wet, this is all you needed huh?”

He’s genuine within the ruggedness of his voice. Within seconds he’s pulling himself out and shoving himself back in with something fierce driving him. He’s unforgiving in his pace once he gets into a comfortable stance, kicking his sweats off of his ankles and planting his feet behind you.

It’s a symphony of sticky, wet sounds, and grunts with compositions of skin against skin in your small kitchen. It’s been so long since you’ve felt him, since he’s felt you. He’s not just fucking you from the back, he’s mounting you - panting lewdly in your ear while his hands snake themselves around your shoulders.

You cry out, nothing coherent leaving your mouth. Your poor cunt was still contracting from the orgasm he gave you with his mouth when shoved himself inside of you, and now that little spongey spot is being brutally massaged over and over again with each stroke.

“That’s - s-so - good.” Your words are staccato, followed by petulant whines. You’re thankful for his hit breath on your neck, the groans leaving him, the weight of his body behind you. He’s close while still delivering a delicious punishment - a fucking that’s meant to make you forget about anything that’s happened this past week.

“Awe baby, it feels good hmm? You - fucking hell-“

His balls tighten and he knows he’s gonna cum soon, he’s too caught up in how you’re squeezing around him, throbbing from the inside out with your admiration for him. You try to reach back and touch him, but he holds your arms in front of you, a sort of embrace and restraint all in one.

“need to cum baby, need to show you how much I love you. Need to fill you - oh baby - need to fill you all the way. That’s it - there you go there you go, I know.”

He kisses your cheek where a tear falls down, your knees beginning to tremble again in tandem with his own. He ruts and ruts and ruts, your cream coating his cock, your warmth swallowing him whole.

He pulls out, and you think you might start weeping, till he turns you around by your waist and licks the inside of your parted lips. He hiked your leg up around his lithe waist, bends his knees and maneuvers his hips forward so that he can slide back into you.

Now that he can see your face, and you can see his, you both feel cathartic.

You hang onto his shoulders, clawing at his curls and he holds your face, damp lips centimeters away from your own while your foreheads rest against each other. You look down to watch him disappear inside of you, and you marvel at it. Your juices and the sounds they make, how pretty his dick looks coated in your release and his own pre ejaculate.

“M’so fucking deep,” he’s shaking now, sweat beading down his neck. His bottom lip quivers and you begin to realize how this must feel for him as well. How badly you both needed the other. “it feels so fucking good, so good so good so good.”

He’s babbling and you pull his mouth to yours again, suckling on his tongue. With some foreign strength, you use your voice.

“Please cum, I love you Eddie. I want you to cum for me please please, I can’t take it. Cum for me cum for me cum for me I love you.”

He thinks he might cry, he’s so fucking deep when you wrap your arms around him, when your hips are connected so closely that you can’t tell where one of you begins and the other one ends - when the sweet lullaby that is your voice serenades him, begs him to let go.

“Oh god, oh fuck I’m - fuuuuck.”

He tightens, stuttering inside of you while small gasps of pleasure leave him like hiccups. You inhale the scent of his hair, feel the rise and fall of his breath from between his shoulder blades. You’re both twitching, barely standing. A mess, and certainly a sight to see.

He stays like that for a few moments, just enough for all of his cum to dribble out from the tip and into you. When he pulls out, the sound is audible and crude, and he swears to himself he will clean the mess on your kitchen floor.

You don’t know who kisses who first.

Both of you go for the others neck, cheeks, forehead. Gently, with enough love to fill an entire universe itself. It’s a juxtaposition to the way you just had each other. It’s love. Pure, unadulterated, sickeningly sweet to the melancholy.

“I’m staying here tonight,” he kisses your eyelids, then your nose, out of breath. “and I’m gonna make breakfast in the morning. We are never letting this happen again.”

You scratch his scalp.

“Which part? Cause-“ he rolls his eyes, smiling boyishly. Enough to show his dimples, flash his teeth.

“You know which part, I’ll give you whatever you want. But I’m never going this long without being around you. Not ever.”

He’s devout, sincere in a way that is irrevocable. You don’t argue, don’t wince, don’t make a face. You nod, suckling his bottom lip.

You listen.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #joseph quinn #eddie munson x you #Eddie Munson au #joseph quinn x reader #Eddie Munson Drabble #Eddie Munson imagine

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parkvcrs · 2 years ago

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Dating Thomas Hewitt Would Include…

WARNING(S): brief mentions of cannibalism, violence, kidnapping, stockholm syndrome, restraints, etc.

NOTES: i recently watched ‘the texas chainsaw massacre: the beginning’ for the first time and while i didn’t like the main cast, thomas made it worthwhile. loved every second he was on screen. :))

• You don’t know how exactly, but out of all your friends (Chrissie, Bailey, Dean, and Eric), you were the only one that Thomas showed mercy to and when it came to hurting your well-being— whenever it was brought up, it was always instigated by his Uncle Charlie or “Hoyt”— he seemed always hesitant to do so.

- And if Thomas had to relocate you for some odd reason, he’d be gentle with you. Additionally, he’d go out of his way to bring you food, water, fix your hair to make you look all pretty, and even get a wet rag to wash the dried blood (not yours, thankfully) from your skin. It confuses you how a man coming from a disgusting and cannibalistic family was touching you as if you’d break. He’s strange, but endearingly because if he wasn’t, you’d be a goner.

• In your time in the hands of the Hewitt family, you made friendly conversation with Thomas the most. It took a while to get used to him and while he prefers not to talk, you don’t mind one bit. Since he’s practically out of touch with the rest of the world, you take it as your responsibility to catch him up on music, specifically the songs and bands you like the most, and promise him that you’ll show him every song you’ve mentioned when you get out of your restraints.

- It took some time before you were able to get out of your restraints. After all, you are the family’s captor, they can’t just have you running out of the house now.

- It took an ungodly amount of time before the family put their trust in you and removed your restraints. And to their surprise, you didn’t even try to run away.

- In fact, you could always be found following Thomas around like a lost puppy. It was truly a sight to behold. Luda Mae and a few of her friends that she’d invite over for tea would always make jokes about you falling head over heels for the boy whilst his uncle was less than impressed and would always proceed to make fun of Thomas and his condition.

• Thomas isn’t stupid. He knows how much of a scumbag Charlie is, but it’s mainly because of how much you voice on how you don’t feel safe around him, so Thomas protective over you and whenever you feel uncomfortable, you know to come running to him where you can be safe.

• Also… Thomas doesn’t know how to slow dance and while you’re not the best teacher because of your lack of experience, it didn’t make things any less special when you tried to show him the basics.

- It was a very special moment in Thomas’ book, one that he’ll cherish forever, especially when you decided to rest your head on his chest where you could his heart race.

• It shouldn’t go without saying that Thomas is incredibly touch-starved. After a childhood and young-adulthood of being completely touch-starved, he’s had turned into an adult who was both desperate for and terrified of touch.

- You had to ease him into it since he was initially afraid that you’d be rough with him but after reassuring him that there is no reason to be afraid, it’s easy sailing for Thomas. He’s handsy, to say the least. He likes to press his leg against yours when you sit next to each other at dinner, pressing a kiss to your shoulder while he holds you at night, hugging you from behind while you’re working on something, or fixing your hair — even though he knows you don’t need help with something like that…

//////

author’s note: MY BABY MYYYYYY BABY

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munsonsmixtapes · 9 months ago

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Eddie Munson Masterlist Two

Eddie x inexperienced!fem!reader

Eddie is more than eager to show you a whole different side of sex after you break up with Steve.

Buzzing With Excitement (18+)

Eddie decides to tease you in the bedroom when he knows that you're needy. Little does he know that you also have a few tricks up your sleeve.

Take Care of Me (18+)

it’s Eddie’s birthday, but you’re the one who gets the gift.

It's So Easy to Bite With Your Hands Pinned (18+)

request: Eddie shows you what rough sex is like after you break up with Steve (18+)

Requests

request: Eddie helps you relieve your boredom at work (18+)

request: You and Eddie realize that you're the right person but at the wrong time for each other

request: Eddie tries to scare you with a Ghost Face mask only to find that you’re actually attracted to him with the mask on (18+)

request: You and Eddie have a very big fight and just when you think he's gone for good, he comes back to ask you a very important question

Professor Munson gives you a special tutoring session (18+)

Eddie gets with your ex best friend Chrissy and just so happens to overhear you call her out and he reveals that you were the one he liked all along

Eddie is head over heels for nerdy!you

There's a miscommunication between you and professor!eddie when you see him flirting with Chrissy Cunningham, another student

You take a very inexperienced Eddie ice skating

Eddie is super nervous to meet your parents, but it turns out he has nothing to worry about as they have the exact same interests that he does.

You'll Fit Right In

You carry around a stuffed animal from your childhood and Eddie assures you that he doesn't care

Eddie recalls your night together as he tells the others that he "doesn't know what those stains are" on his mattress even though he very much does (18+)

You and Eddie miss your holiday photo shoot because he just can't keep his hands to himself (18+)

You and Eddie buy a Christmas tree for your first apartment together

You give clumsy!Eddie your phone number

Eddie helps you with your nightly routine that helps you fall asleep

A day in bed with Eddie the morning after the two of you hooked up

You and Eddie are convinced that you hate each other until you realize that it's just the opposite

Swiftie!you has Eddie listen to All Too Well (10 Minute Version)

You buy Eddie a ring and aren't sure whether or not he likes it until you notice that he never takes it off

You and Eddie fake date to get Chrissy's attention until you realize that it's not fake anymore

You decide to surprise Eddie by wearing a bow and he wants to show you just how appreciative his of his gift

You're Eddie's daughter's babysitter and the two of you slowly fall for each other

After someone reveals that you have a crush on Eddie, he tells you that he feels the exact same way

Eddie takes care of you while you're on your period

You "arrest" Eddie for being too hot at one of your concerts

Eddie is jealous of your celebrity crush

Eddie tells his neighbor about a certain way she can relieve her tension (18+)

You're a 25 year old virgin and Eddie is more than happy to help you out with that (18+)

Wayne makes a mistake of walking in on Eddie going down on you (18+)

Biker!eddie shows you a good time on his motorcycle (18+)

You wear a matching lingerie set and Eddie shows you just how much he likes it (18+)

You've been touch starved since Eddie left for tour and now that he's back, he's more than happy to take care of you (18+)

Rockstar!Eddie makes up for lost time when he finally comes home to his girl after tour (18+)

You discover that Eddie loves nipple play (18+)

You and Eddie have a quickie in the Hideout bathroom once he sees your homemade Corroded Coffin merch (18+)

Eddie loves your tits (18+)

Eddie takes you in the classroom where you work after everyone has left (18+)

You and Eddie go at it on your kitchen island (18+)

You go down on Eddie in the school library (18+)

Eddie tries to take a make out session to the next level, but you're not in the mood. (18+)

After a moment of insecurity, you convince older!eddie that he's not too old for you

You show sugar daddy!eddie that you don’t need to be bought in order to spend time with him

You help Eddie clean his filthy room

Eddie touches you while his bros play Grand Theft Auto- based on So High School by Taylor Swift (18+)

Eddie is head over heels for plus size!you (18+)

things get hot and heavy with Eddie while you and the boys hotbox in his van (18+)

A fight with Eddie leads to a love confession

After a fight with Eddie, he shows you just how much he loves you and your body (18+)

rockstar!eddie sees your photos in a playboy magazine and uses your photos to help get himself off (18+)

rockstar!eddie needs some moans on the new single and thinks your the perfect person for the job (18+)

rockstar!eddie is very protective of his girl

rockstar!eddie takes care of you when you get sick on tour

you show Eddie how grateful you are for him saving you when one of his employees hits on you (18+)

Billy Doesn't Know Series

You and Billy have been hooking up and it isn't until you sleep with Eddie that you realize what you really like.

part one (18+)

part two (18+)

Halloween

You and Eddie meet at Robin’s Halloween party and realize that you’re dressed up as a couple.

As You Wish

You go to a fright night with your friends and can’t help be attracted to one of the scarers who passes by, and when your friends let you know just how weirded out they are by your acquired taste, he steps in and lets you know just how badly he wants to fuck you. If only there was a way to properly thank him for defending you.

Is Somebody Gonna Match My Freak? (18+)

Eddie is right by your side throughout your pregnancy. Part two to Is Somebody Gonna Match My Freak.

I'll Be There For You

request: you and Eddie carve pumpkins that look like each other

Headcanons

How dad!eddie would behave on your daughter's first Halloween

Eddie SFW alphabet

Eddie NSFW alphabet (18+)

Modern!Eddie x swiftie!reader

SFW

NSFW (18+)

Eddie x roommate!reader

You help Eddie get to bed after a night of drinking and it turns out that he doesn't need the alcohol to tell you exactly how he feels about you.

Sober Up

Rockstar!eddie x popstar!reader

You and Eddie get up to a lot backstage after your concert with help of the handcuffs you gave him of course.

Pretty in Pink (18+)

Eddie x virgin!reader

Eddie invites you over for dinner but decides to skip straight to dessert.

Guess (18+)

perv!virgin!eddie x virgin!reader

Eddie touches you and you decide that it's far better than masturbation.

Just a Little Touch (18+)

Soft!Eddie

You go over to Eddie's to buy some weed after not seeing each other since high school. Old feelings arise and after smoking a joint together, you find yourselves tangled up in his sheets.

The First One's Always Free (18+)

You, Eddie, and your daughter come over to the trailer to celebrate Wayne's birthday and give him the best gift he could ever ask for.

That's My Boy

You and Eddie get your daughter to bed as you adjust to your new life in a new city that the three of you are having trouble with.

It'll Take Time

request: Eddie craves your attention after a long day at work

request: Eddie convinces you to stay home from work and cuddle him

request: Eddie helps shy!you through your first day at Family Video

request: you tease Eddie until he finally admits what he wants from you (18+)

request: Eddie guides shy!you through a make out session with him

request: your first time with Eddie (18+)

Best friend!Eddie

You and your best friend Eddie go skinny dipping in Lover's Lake where your friendship will never be the same again.

Take a Dive (18+)

You invite Eddie to hang out and he has a very important question for you.

Can I Ask You a Question?

Eddie's upset about something and unbeknownst you, he doesn't want you to on your date tonight.

Who's Gonna Love You Like Me?

Vampire!Eddie

request: Eddie finally turns you after months of begging

request: vampire!eddie is the perfect match for your night owl self

Ex-boyfriend!Eddie

After your boyfriend cheats on you at your birthday party, your ex Eddie reminds you that he'll always be your shoulder to cry on.

I'm Still Your Boy

You see Eddie over a year after your break up and you both realize that you never stopped loving each other.

I Never Got to Say Goodbye (18+)

Shy!Eddie

You work at the bar Eddie frequents all of your flirting always seems to go right over his head until one night, you're honest with him.

Take a Shot

Boyfriend!Eddie

You paint Eddie's nails for the first time and he enjoys it way more than he thought he would.

Pretty Boy

Eddie finally finds out exactly what you like in the bedroom.

Be a Good Girl For Me (18+)

Sugar daddy!Eddie

After Eddie gives you his phone number, he tells you to call him anytime and one night, you decide to take him up on it.

Just a Call Away

Eddie x Garethx fem!reader

What's supposed to be a smoke session with Gareth quickly turns into something very different and dirty with him and his best friend, Eddie.

Breathe Your Air (18+)

Rockstar!Eddie

Eddie performs a song for your birthday and you wonder if the two of you would have really good bed chem. Based on "Bed Chem" by Sabrina Carpenter.

I Bet it's Even Better Than in My Head (18+)

Eddie is never able to shut the fuck up about you.

Gotta Get Home to My Girl

Eddie defends you in an interview and you repay him in the most generous way.

That's My Man (18+)

You and Eddie meet at an awards show and realize that you have much more in common that you initially thought. Based on "Juno" by Sabrina Carpenter.

I Know You Want My Touch For Life (18+)

You show up to Eddie's house looking for a good time and when you realize that that's not what you want, Eddie is nothing but a sweetheart about it.

Don't Be Sorry (18+)

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

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eds6ngel · 2 years ago

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being eddie’s girlfriend would include...

༊*·˚ you thought he would be his same eccentric self on the first date, but boy were you wrong.

༊*·˚ bro was a nervous wreck.

༊*·˚ was shook to his core when you said that you enjoyed the date and wanted to go on another.

༊*·˚ i imagine he is very clingy.

༊*·˚ and extremely touch-starved.

༊*·˚ always has a hand on your waist, thigh, holding your hand, anything for that physical touch.

༊*·˚ rambles about special interest bf x doesn’t understand but listens anyway gf.

༊*·˚ would never admit it, but lets you braid his hair.

༊*·˚ probably rambled about how you were the one after your first date to wayne.

༊*·˚ which led to you meeting wayne after the second date.

༊*·˚ he was kissing the ground when he saw the two of you get along.

༊*·˚ eddie got very comfortable very quickly as the relationship progressed.

༊*·˚ not that you minded, of course.

༊*·˚ but, he was just a tad annoying at times…

༊*·˚ just habits he knew would drive you up the wall, but couldn’t resist to do anyway.

༊*·˚ would smack your ass any time you lean over.

༊*·˚ would always have the same cheeky grin every time he did it too.

༊*·˚ speaking of asses… he would 100% use your ass as a drum.

༊*·˚ and your head…

༊*·˚ or any body part for that matter — “sorry babe, i just have this rhythm in my head. gotta see if it sounds good before i write it down.”

༊*·˚ the annoying, disgusting pda couple.

༊*·˚ bros making out with you against the school lockers, i’m sorry :’)

༊*·˚ he just likes to make his love to you well known, as he dies when you do anything remotely similar.

༊*·˚ and when homecoming season came around… boy, oh boy.

༊*·˚ you told him that jason asked chrissy to homecoming in the middle of a basketball game, so eddie took that as a personal challenge.

༊*·˚ asked you to homecoming in the middle of the cafeteria, standing on the table and shit.

༊*·˚ got robin and her band friends to even play your favourite song.

༊*·˚ bro definitely spoke in shakespearean — “wouldst thou doth me the greatest honour and joineth me, the eddie munson, at the danceth?”

༊*·˚ and of course you said yes, because you love your nerdy ass boyfriend a lot.

…i might do eddie and his gf at homecoming headcanons next.

#eddie munson #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson boyfriend #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x gn!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female reader #Eddie munson fic #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson comfort #eddie munson smut #eds6ngel

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dizzy-n-busy · 2 years ago

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[can (and most likely will) contain SOME poly hcs!]

« Shaw Pack headcanons »

° • ° • ↓ • ° • °

Younger David and Darlin' had a 'platonic confession' - as Milo and Asher put it - with each other (they confessed that they were besties for the first time)

Younger Darlin' was hella touch starved and tried avoiding it at all costs bc it made them feel weird; Darlin' now is constantly being touched and completely immune to it

Angel and Asher are VERY touchy feely, love language of physical touch havin asses

David and Baaabe are the cooks of the pack - Baaabe also makes snacks for pack meetings bc David's too preoccupied (Milo and Sam are good sous-chefs !!)

Sweetheart loves buying things and going to expensive ass restaurants with the pack (they're restricted for special occasions bc the pack doesn't want them going broke)

Angel and Baaabe met each other in college but never found out each other's names till later

Everyone is immensely protective over Sam (esp during pack meetings)

Sam and Darlin' stay getting cuddled and clinged onto bc they think that they're outcasts

Milo learned how to stitch at a young age so he could personally tailor some of his clothes shorter; he was embarrassed to get them done professionally

Angel likes wearing short clothes/bottoms so when their shoes untie, the pack's literally dolphin diving tying it for them so they don't have to bend down

David gets called 'mama duck' and he literally hates it

Someone always records whenever they all hangout for memories (I'd say Baaabe, David or Sweetheart)

Darlin' and Sweetheart are menaces when it comes to pissy chrissy, they love intimidating him (Darlin' looms over him and Sweetheart jumpscares him with cloaking)

Milo has a daily skin care/shower routine which is oddly complex

Angel spams the gc with David smiling when they catch him in a photo or to lighten the mood - everyone loves it

Angel got Asher hooked on cheek kisses (or vice versa)

Movie nights or sleepovers/camping go crazy

The pack has, at some point in time, all fallen asleep on or next to Sam (he's too comforting for his own good)

It's always Milo vs Asher till you bring Darlin' into the picture (2 against 1 and they still lose lmao)

Baaabe literally obliterates everyone at arcade games

David has his last name tattooed on the back of his neck; he says how they'll be his demise /j

Sweetheart stress cleans (twinninem)

Baaabe gives fantastic pep talks

Darlin' takes Angel out whenever they struggle with sleeping and don't wanna bother David (Asher sometimes goes too)

Sweetheart is the go to for missing stuff, they always manage to find it somehow

Sam lets the pack play with his hair

Angel got David to match fits ONCE and they were literally vibrating in excitement

The amount of 'embarrassing' old pack photos and videos that David hides is FEDERAL

Darlin' gives really nice hugs

The werewolves all shift and form a cuddle party, it's very cute (many photos for evidence)

Angel likes riling Darlin' up when their shifted and gets chased like a bat outta hell - they have literally mounted the rest of the pack tryna get away

Sweetheart always gives the pack's shifted forms head kisses before and after rubbing their heads

David won't admit it but he loves hanging out with Sam on the sidelines while everyone else is playing around (shifted)

Darlin' got assorted matching piercing with the listener mates (angel bites for Angel, gages for Baaabe and either a tongue piercing or snake bites for Sweetheart)

Milo gets picked up a lot for some reason - it only slightly pisses him off

They were all matching for the Summit, I might draw it to show what I mean

Sweetheart and Milo LOVE making and holding eye contact, they like how it flusters ppl (they always win staring contests/j)

Angel's super into interior designing, they interpret it thru minecraft bc I said so

Group therapy goes crazy/lh

I have so many thoughts abt them, I might have ta make a pt2 💪💪

• ° • ° ↑ ° • ° •

#this is to save me from the literal mindfuck the summit was #redacted audio #redacted david #redacted angel #redacted darlin #redacted sam #redacted asher #redacted baabe #redacted milo #redacted sweetheart #redacted shaw pack

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sturnboos · 5 months ago

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[ 🎨 ] finger paints

characters: caregiver chris x little reader

this story contains: shouting, crying, kinda a hurt/comfort story.

It was a nice afternoon in the sturniolo house.

you were in the living room, regressed and playing with blocks. you had a pacifier in your mouth with baggy clothes on. Nick and Matt went to the market. Chris was doing something in his room. Of course, the triplets wouldn’t have left you by yourself if they knew you were little, but you had regressed after Matt and Nick left.

So you were left bored playing with blocks and soon became touch starved. You wanted cuddles. You huffed carefully trying to go down the stairs to see Chris. You heard him talking so you knew he was home. You went to the door and opened it.

"Chris?" You questioned.

"Streaming." Chris told you paying no attention that you were regressed, his full focus on the computer infront of him.

"But Chrissy" you tried to get his attention.

"FUCK!” he slams the mouse down as he just got killed in the Fortnite game “I TOLD YOU IM STREAMING" Chris yelled not looking at you so again he didn’t know you were regressed.

You were taken aback by this. Chris usually was the nicest to you. He never yelled at you. Tears filled your eyes and you closed the door softly.

You went to your room and laid down. You grabbed your favorite plush bunny and cried.

“My just wanted Chris’s attention. Chris mad at me?” you talked to you plush bunny. “i not want to be bad. Chris hates me for makin him lost da game”

Then you came up with a genius idea. “maybe if I make somefing for Chris then Chris no hate me” you told bunny.

after a bit more thinking It was settled. you would make him a finger painting. the only thing was that usually you’d always had someone to help you with the paint.

If this would make Chris not hate you then it was worth it you thought.

You waddled out of your room and into your playroom. You went to the shelf that had the paints on it. You took the paints and set them on the small table you had in your playroom. You went back to the shelf and got a nice sheet of paper. You sat down and opened the paint containers and started painting.

you tried to make a painting of a few flowers since flowers always cheered you up when you were sad so maybe they could cheer up Chris too? You also put the word sorry at the top right corner of the page.

Meanwhile downstairs Chris had finished his stream and noticed you’d been awfully quiet. Usually, you was very loud and obnoxious. Then Chris remembered that you had came in earlier. Chris went out of the room and went to yours. He knocked on your door. No response. He opened the door to see no one was in there. He went downstairs to see if you had fallen asleep on the couch or something but you downstairs either. He started to panic a little bit.

“there you are” Chris said relived as he finally found you in playroom. by the time he has found you your hands were covered in paint.

"H-hi Chrissy" you say.

“No wonder you were so quiet, what are you doing?" chris asked you.

"Making finger paints for youu," you told Chris and went back to painting. You had paint everywhere. On your clothes, your hands, your face, some in your hair it was a mess.

Chris went over to see what you were painting.

"What are you sorry for baby?" he asked you.

"I sowwy for bein bad ands Chris be's mad at me" you said tears filling your eyes.

"Honey where on earth would you get that idea," Chris said and picked you up not carrying if he got paint on himself.

you sniffle "Cuz I wanted atention and made chris lost da game" you told Chris.

Then it clicked at him. He had yelled at you earlier and you were little. He didn’t realise then but it made sense to him now.

"Oh princess I'm so sorry I yelled at you earlier. I didn't know you were little. I should've paid more attention to you. Chris is so so so sorry" Chris apologised.

"Are you tired bubba?" He asked to which you just nod.

"Well let’s get you cleaned up and then we can have a nice nap".

He carried you to the bathroom sitting you on the counter and helped wash the paint off you. the paint on your arms was easy to remove but the paint in your hair took a few minutes to get it out.

Once you were all clean he helped you into some pyjamas. then laid you on the bed and left the room. He wasn’t gone for long tho.

"Here baby I have yummy apple juice for you" Chris went over and laid down with you. He gave you the bottle of jucie and you suckled it softly. You drank half of it before you fell asleep. Chris capped the bottle and replaced it with your paci. Then went to sleep too.

word count: 861

divider credit: @dollywons

tag list: @riasturns @sturnshood @perfectmoonlady (comment ⭐️ to be added to tag list)

a/n: I put bottle of apple juice cause I hatteeee plain milk

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sfw agere #age regression #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo

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steddieunderdogfics · 2 months ago

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hold me, scold me by lydiah135

@yourfellowuselessgay

Rating: Explicit

34,105 words, 1/1 chapters

Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Tags: Alternate Universe - No Upside Down (Stranger Things), Modern Era, Soft Dom Eddie Munson, Mean Dom Eddie Munson, Dom Eddie Munson, Sex Worker Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Touch-Starved Steve Harrington, Sub Steve Harrington, Transmasculine Eddie Munson, Lesbian Chrissy Cunningham, Transfeminine Chrissy Cunningham, Eventual Happy Ending, Anal Fisting, Overstimulation, BDSM Scene, BDSM, Cock & Ball Torture, Needles, Armpit Kink, Nipple Play, Anal Fingering, Tommy Hagan Being an Asshole, Emotional Manipulation, Toxic Relationship, Break Up, Post-Break Up, Cheating, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Miscommunication, Platonic BDSM, Recreational Drug Use, Dirty Talk, Daddy Kink, Original Character(s)

Summary:

“If I may make a suggestion,” Argyle says, waiting for Steve’s assent before he proceeds. “I think you are a cat,” he nods, knowingly. “Cats,” he starts to pull pointier ears from the wall, laying them out on the large bench in the middle of the room. “Are the kings of consent,” he says, emphatically. “They are incredibly capable creatures, tiny house predators who wake us up at 4:30 in the morning with unapologetic parkour and yet remind us that we are made to simply exist and enjoy the sunshine. They temper their feelings for no one, make no apologies and once their trust is earned, their loyalty is almost eternal.” “A cat,” Steve smiles, touching the tip of an ear, thinking of Robin’s cat, Everything Bagel and how she and Chrissy love him so dearly. “What colour?” (the professional dom eddie fic where steve sees platonic pet play dom argyle, inspired by itcanbepalped's no guilt & very little shame)

This rec is a part of Challenge Monday. The challenge this week was Fics Featuring Argyle.

Know a fic that deserves extra love? Submit through our asks or the submission box!

#steddie #steddieunderdogfics #fic rec #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie fic rec #challenge monday

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cunninghamchrissie · 1 year ago

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@hellcheeranniversaryweek day seven: touch

eddie and chrissy are both touch starved and clingy and they will be touching every second of every day thankyouverymuch 😌

#hellcheer #eddissy #edissy #munningham #hellcheer anniversary week #hellcheer anniversary #cheers2hellcheer #eddie x chrissy #chrissy x eddie #eddie munson #chrissy cunningham #mine*edit

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spacebabesuki · 8 months ago

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I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can) - Hellcheer

Eddie Munson|Chrissy Cunningham|Hellcheer Week 2024|Devil & Touch Starved - Day 6 @hellcheerweek

oneshot, songfic, word count: 3k

Summary: Christine Cunningham, a young and innocent nun at Hawkins Convent, is cherished for her purity—so holy that they even call her the new Virgin Mary. However, her faith is challenged when a delinquent named Eddie Munson—described by the priest as the very reincarnation of the devil—appears. “Oh, sweet angel, you think you’ll never sin, don't you? You just haven’t met me yet.”

Christine Cunningham, a young and innocent nun at Hawkins Convent, had taken her vows at eighteen, beloved by priests and admired for her purity—the sweet girl was so holy that they even called her the new Virgin Mary.

Her gentle nature was said to be so strong that even the devil himself could not tempt her from the path of holiness. Well, the problem was they just hadn’t counted on the fact that the devil had arrived.

No prison in Hawkins could hold him. So, they had sent him to the convent, hoping the word of God would redeem him and save him. They believed the devil was inside him.

His name? Eddie Munson...

When the priest attempted an exorcism, even he, the most respected priest in Indiana, gave up. Eddie Munson, with a devilish smile on his cold face, had laughed throughout the entire ordeal. His icy eyes and dark demeanor had suggested a future more sinister than any criminal's.

The city had been right when they labeled him a criminal: the devil himself incarnate.

Only Christine could save him.

For weeks, she had tried, but without success. He remained cold, evil, and malicious—capable of provoking even the calmest of nuns to anger. And anger is a sin. Despite her best efforts to remain on God's path, this man was leading her astray. With each passing day, the holiest nun in the world was beginning to falter.

The smoke clouds billowed from his mouth like a freight train cutting through a small town. He smoked, exhaling clouds of smoke through his parted lips. Dressed all in black, with a leather jacket, bracelets, and silver rings on each of his long fingers, he stared at her while holding the cigarette inside the church.

If sin were a person, it would definitely be him.

They had both been seated in the church confessional, doing this every day. She knelt, praying for him, while he sat back, his long legs spread out in black pants, and Eddie laughed quietly. She tried to focus, but she couldn’t. He kept watching her through the small opening in the confessional, grinning and blowing smoke just to make her pretty blonde hair, hidden by a black veil, flutter.

And she confessed that it was not the first time her eyes had lost focus as she looked at his belt, his long legs spread open... and then she blushed, closed her eyes, and prayed even more fervently.

In the beginning, she had thought she should only pray for him.

But God help her, because now she was praying for herself too.

He was obsessed with watching her, driving her to the edge, provoking her with his gaze and his words. She was his little amusement park in that fucking convent. And she, despite her angelic face, was like a piece of forbidden sin to him—he couldn’t take his eyes off her—the sweet, adorable nun.

The jokes he told from across the room were revolting and far too loud. And with each day he spent there, trying for salvation, people shook their heads, whispering "God help her," when she told them she was going to save him.

With a smirk, he taunted her, “But your good Lord doesn’t even need to lift a finger.”

The priest, concerned for the poor, sweet girl, advised her to give up, saying, “Sometimes, God’s plan isn’t for everyone.”

But she believed in the salvation of Eddie Munson’s tormented soul.

“I can fix him. No, really, I can,” she insisted. “And only I can.”

She was convinced this had been the hardest mission God could give her, and she accepted it with open arms, believing that He never gave burdens too heavy to bear.

She believed saving him, Eddie Munson, was her mission.

Dopamine surged through his brain every time he saw her in her nun’s habit, clutching her rosary.

“What a waste,” Eddie said, grinning. “A sweet thing like you, belonging to no one. If you could, you’d be mine.” He blew smoke into her face, pressing the cigarette back between his lips while she was still on her knees praying for him in the confessional. “If you ever give up this whole God thing, call me,” he winked, his lips making that teasing sound.

Every time she tried to focus on her prayers, her eyes drifted to his hands. Kneeling before God, praying for his soul, his intimidating presence loomed over her, moving back and forth as if her prayers meant nothing.

And now, every time she prayed, she remembered that one day Eddie approached her. She felt it—her eyes squeezed shut in fear, trembling. When she opened them, she found his heavy boots right in front of her. Kneeling before Eddie Munson, she swallowed hard and felt his touch—the touch of a man for the first time in her life. It was so... No! She forced herself to return to her prayers. But as she prayed, she felt the tip of his finger—a rough, calloused digit—gently tracing hearts on her rosy cheek.

So close, too close; he distracted her from her mission. She blushed, and he noticed, towering over her, always dressed in black, with tattoos of demons crawling up his skin.

That day, she learned there had been only one thing her religious mind couldn’t control with prayer in the world—the effects on her body.

“Oh, sweet thing,” he smiled, tilting her chin up with his finger and forcing her to look at him. She felt something stir in her heart and in her legs, keeping her awake at night since he arrived.

People always said that when the devil is near, you feel it, and he seduces you. She felt like she was sinning, her body betraying her mind.

He was magnetic, but she reminded herself: Lucifer was too.

Then, in a moment of panic, she stood up, abandoning her rosary mid-prayer for the first time in her life. She slammed the door and fled from him, rushing into her room. Concerned about the sin in her heart and the heat in her legs, she leaned against the door, breathing deeply—desperate and sweating—trying to rid her mind of impure thoughts.

She had avoided looking at him for days since it happened, and she hadn’t slept for nights. Yet, she still hadn’t given up on him; she was going to save his soul and then purify her own.

Every day, she saw him with his boots resting on the church pews, and he’d wink every time she passed by.

Now, she was here praying for him again in the confessional, trying to make the heat knot in her stomach disappear as she whispered prayers while holding her rosary.

(...)

Every day had been the same: from 9 to 10 AM, she prayed in the confessional, and in the afternoon, she prayed in his room. He admitted he had become obsessed with her, feeling anxious from 3 to 5 PM, eagerly awaiting the hour of prayer.

Fascinated by her innocence, he was determined to unravel the sweet nun. He could see it from a mile away—a perfect case for his unique skill set: sin. She wore a halo of the highest grade, and he wanted to take it from her.

And today, once again, it was time for prayer. He was lying on the bed, reading, when he glanced at the clock marking 3 PM. A second later, he heard the door open. She entered, head bowed, so beautiful it was almost a sin.

Eddie lifted an eyebrow; today, she wasn’t dressed in her long nun's habit that covered everything. Instead, she wore a white nightgown he had never seen before. She had asked the priest for permission to rest, feeling sick all day, but she wouldn’t give up—she had come to pray for him again.

In his mind, he even believed she had put on the white nightgown on purpose for him. She wanted to sin, but something held her back. He could see her stealing glances at him; he wasn’t stupid.

But this poor angel just needed a little help to sin.

The white nightgown clung to her form, revealing the curves of her body more than her usual garments. He caught sight of the crucifix hanging between her breasts—a sight that felt sinful. It looked so soft, so perfect, that it seemed a crime for someone built like her to be untouched.

“Hello there, pretty thing,” he chuckled, leaning back with his hands behind his head and his boots resting on the bed. “I missed you, sweetheart. I counted the minutes until I could see you again.”

She didn’t respond, her gaze still downcast. She wasn’t afraid of him; she was afraid of the sin. His voice was like honey—flirting, like a sin.

"You are a sinner; don't talk to me."

“Oh, sweet angel, you think you’ll never sin, don't you?” he taunted. “You just haven’t met me yet.”

She knelt at the foot of the bed, beginning her prayers, but soon lost her focus as he drew closer.

Then she heard his rough voice whisper, as if the devil were sitting on her shoulder. But he was standing next to her.

“Good girl, that’s right, come close,” he said, his tone sultry. “I’ll show you heaven if you’ll be my angel—all mine.”

He got off the bed and approached her. She faltered in her prayer, squeezing her eyes shut as sinful thoughts invaded her mind—thoughts of kneeling for him for a different reason.

She felt something new between her thighs at the sound of his voice, his words. It was wet, hot, burning—a longing that made her want to press her legs together. It felt like an emptiness yearning to be filled by the thing inside his belt.

No, this was sin. The worst kind of sin. Nothing had ever sparked these kinds of thoughts in her before. It was him—the devil.

Startled by the notion, she prayed to God for protection, gripping her rosary tighter and pleading for the devil not to take her.

And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. Amen.

He was getting closer, and she began praying faster, her heart racing. She could feel his scent enveloping her, intoxicating and overwhelming.

And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. Amen.

“God, help me,” she whispered, desperation creeping into her voice. Each breath she took seemed to pull her deeper into temptation, her senses betraying her as she fought to remain focused on her prayers.

Now, he was getting closer, closer, and she could hear his footsteps echoing in the small space. She didn’t want to open her eyes, desperate to resist the temptation that called to her like an angel’s song for paradise, but in this case, it was a hellish melody.

With each step, her heart raced faster, torn between her prayers and the longing that stirred deep within her.

And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. Amen.

Closer... His hand hovered near her, and she remembered the day he had touched her chin—his fingers so warm, sending shivers down her spine. He was so tall, looming over her, and when he looked at her, it felt as if he could see straight into her soul.

Both of them jumped when they noticed the priest watching from the window, witnessing everything. He stormed in, pulling Munson away and accusing him of being the devil who was corrupting his nun, purer than the Virgin Mary.

Christine gasped, taking deep breaths as the priest intervened, the divine presence preventing her from sinning. Yet her thoughts continued to betray her, and she couldn't comprehend where those dark ideas had come from.

It’s him. The devil.

Still, she kept praying not to succumb to temptation, even as the priest expressed his worries. “Trust me,” she replied firmly, “I can handle a dangerous man. No, really, I can.”

She left the room and knelt in the church, praying, “And lead us not into temptation.” She trembled, struggling to resist his gaze and to forget the thoughts that had invaded her mind earlier: his hands, his rough voice, the belt, his legs, his scent, his dark eyes, his tattoos, his hair. “Lord, help me,” she prayed. “Please, help me.”

As she prayed, she could hear what the priest was doing to him in the next room—the whip cracking against his back. With each strike, Eddie bled and laughed, the twisted enjoyment echoing through the walls. He was the devil himself, laughing even while being punished.

She listened intently for when it would stop. Finally, the priest emerged, leaving him alone, wounded and bloodied in the small prison bedroom where he slept.

And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. Amen.

Her heart raced with compassion. Convincing herself it was an act of goodwill, she stood up and walked back to him. With each step toward his room, she prayed.

And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. Amen.

She entered to find him leaning against the bed, his strong back streaked with red. In her hands, she held a basin of warm water and a cloth to tend to the wounds the priest had inflicted on him. Only a candle flickered and the crucifix hung on the wall.

Now, alone together in the room—like a prison containing only her and Eddie—the devil—she sat next to him on the bed and began to clean his wounds slowly and gently. He was too quiet, and she hoped that in his soft silence, she might finally save him. But, like the devil he was, he played a trick to lower her guard.

As the saying goes, devils love to corrupt angels.

As her soft, angelic hands glided over his bare back, he smiled without her seeing—a devilish smile—because he noticed she was here taking care of him without the priest knowing. And if she's here and came back, and isn’t scared of what almost happened before the priest entered, it’s because she’s nearly surrendering to sin.

She looked at the crucifix, praying softly as she cleaned the wounds on his strong back. His skin, his tall and muscular form, was so… enticing. She watched her own gentle hands tending to him while he leaned forward, wearing only jeans, quiet and vulnerable in her grasp. He had never been this soft and silent before.

As she cleaned his strong, broad back, her hands trembled with each brush against his skin. She had never been this close to a man before, and with every passing second, her heart raced.

But even she could no longer trust herself. Only God could save her. Yet perhaps God had abandoned her, leaving her alone with the devil.

She prayed,

And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. Amen.

He turned to look at her, gently taking her soft hand and making her stop cleaning his back. She froze, her breath hitching in her throat. The more she felt her heartbeat quicken, the more her resolve weakened. Only then did she realize they were sitting together on the bed.

Her eyes betrayed her; she lowered her head and looked at him. He wasn’t wearing a shirt; his strong chest radiated heat. His tattoos and well-defined abdomen drew her gaze, and she could see the trail of soft hair leading down to where his belt concealed what she dared not imagine.

“Why do you keep fighting this?” he whispered, his voice low and inviting. The air between them crackled with an unspoken tension, and she felt the weight of his gaze, heavy and electric.

He was the devil incarnate, the only one who could stir forbidden desires within her. Like Lucifer himself, assembling his legion, she felt herself caught in the gravitational pull of his allure. She was the first to be drawn in, the first to feel the intoxicating thrill of surrendering to him.

As he leaned closer, his breath brushing against her skin, she could feel the weight of her resolve crumbling. “Join me,” he murmured, his eyes dark with promise.

Every word was a spell, wrapping around her heart and mind, tempting her to relinquish her innocence and step into the shadows.

And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. Amen.

The cloth she had been using to clean him slipped from her fingers, and, succumbing to temptation, she let her soft, trembling fingers brush against his bare chest, feeling the skin of a man for the first time.

Oh no, this is wrong.

And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. Amen.

This is...

And lead us not into temptation... but... oh... the... oh... devil...

Oh, poor girl, she failed her mission. She sinned.

Even God couldn’t save her when he pressed her against the wall, and they moaned into each other’s mouths. The rosary slipped from her fingers and fell to the ground. His hands slid beneath her nun’s veil, revealing her long, beautiful hair, as he tugged at the fabric of her white gown. She felt the strong, masculine body of a man rubbing against her for the first time.

She gasped into his mouth, fully surrendering, as his hands moved up her waist, lifting the sacred garment she had once believed untouchable. His hands roamed her body, reaching places she had vowed would never be touched.

He pressed her against the wall with such desire that the crucifix fell to the ground—a clear sign that she was now entirely in the hands of the devil.

She could not resist the devil.

"I can fix him—no, really, I can,

— Or maybe I can’t."

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