#Chrissy is touch starved

[hellcheerficdatabase]

The Queen’s Dungeon Master

Author: @nature-and-music

Rating/Warning: Mature

Chapter Count: 1/1

Description: Chrissy heads over to visit Eddie after Hellfire Club ended. The board game adventure may be over, but another unexpected one soon begins.

Tags: Alternate universe- canon divergence, alternate Universe- everyone lives/nobody dies, post-vecna, established relationship, Chrissy is a sweetie, Eddie is touch starved, Chrissy is touch starved, smut, wowz, fluff, Eddie POV, one-shot, status: completed

[steddiehands86]

Since it’s getting close to the New Year, I wanted to shared secret Santa fic that I did for my friend Becks. I hope your holidays were happy and you all have an incredible New Year!

[a-strange-inkling]

omg after your ask about eddie and chrissy sleeping i found this video, it’s so them https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMYcSyaPP/

Ohh my gooodddd *fans self* Um wow yes this is exactly what I meant by hardcore snuggling. The hand up her back though 😳🥵

[whosjunglejim4322]

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.

[parkvcrs]

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

[eds6ngel]

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.

[dizzy-n-busy]

[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 💪💪

• ° • ° ↑ ° • ° •

[bonelotus]

Eddie Munson brain dump because I have too many thoughts to keep contained: Mild NSFW. MDNI

-He has the best hugs. You know the ones where you feel completely safe in their arms? Like nothing bad can happen as long as they're holding you? His hugs are like that.

-This boy is so starved for affection. We saw the way he gave Chrissy a discount just for being nice to him. Anytime you say something sweet or give him a gentle touch he just fucking melts.

-Aftercare king. He can get a little mean when he's in dom!space but afterwards he treats you like a goddamn queen.

-Speaking of queen, absolutely calls you stuff like Princess, Honey, Sweetheart. Refers to you and his guitar as 'his girls'.

-One time, you call him "dungeon master" jokingly but it turns out he really likes it. After that he always makes you call him "master" whenever you're fucking.

-Loves fucking you so good that you cry. At first, he was scared, thinking he hurt you (too much) but once he figured out the tears are a good sign he can't get enough of them.

-Has plenty of experience from the girls in Hawkins wanting to get some strange but has never actually been a relationship before you.

-You can never decide what he's most talented with, his tongue, his fingers or his cock. No matter what he's using, you're coming at least three times before he lets up (unless you've been bad and he's denying you orgasms.)

-Is an absolute dom but secretly gets a thrill and thinks it's ridiculously hot on the rare occasion when you take control.

-The mouth on this man is absolutely filthy. Once he knows you're into both degradation and praise he literally will not shut up when your fucking. Even when he's beyond words he's got the most beautiful moans and grunts.

-His hipbones and happy trail have you changing religion. Forget communion, you've got a new god to get on your knees to worship.

-Will make a point to kiss every part of your body that you're self-conscious about. Seriously, if you've got a hang-up about so much as your fucking fingernails, each one's getting a smooch.

-Fucking adores really sloppy blowjobs with just a hint of teeth.

-But he loves giving head even more than getting it. Eats pussy like a starving man getting his last meal. Would have you sit on his face all day if you let him.

-Loves marking you. Hickies, love bites, bruises shaped like his hands. Wants anyone who so much as glances at you to now that you're owned.

-The first time you get together, you're teasing him, telling him he isn't mean. Saying something like "You're such a sweetheart, the only time you can even pretend to be mean is when you're dungeon master." Eventually he gets fed up and pins you to the wall by your neck. He can feel your throat bob against his palm and you choke out, "I don't think this is having exactly the effect you intended it to, Munson." And when he looks down and sees you rubbing your thighs together the smirk on his face is pure sin.

[munsonsmixtapes]

Eddie Munson Masterlist Two

Eddie x inexperienced!fem!reader

Buzzing With Excitement (18+)

Take Care of Me (18+)

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

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+)

Billy Doesn't Know Series

part one (18+)

part two (18+)

Halloween

As You Wish

Is Somebody Gonna Match My Freak? (18+)

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

Eddie x roommate!reader

Sober Up

Rockstar!eddie x popstar!reader

Pretty in Pink (18+)

Eddie x virgin!reader

Guess (18+)

perv!virgin!eddie x virgin!reader

Just a Little Touch (18+)

Soft!Eddie

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

Best friend!Eddie

Take a Dive (18+)

Can I Ask You a Question?

Vampire!Eddie

request: Eddie finally turns you after months of begging

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

[cunninghamchrissie]

@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-heaven]

@hellcheerweek Hellcheer Week: Day 6 prompt - Touch Starved and Devil

I really love how this one turned out!

Chrissy is a devoutly woman of god. Quite frankly she’s very much in need of a little change in her pious life. Unlike the old proverb, “Idle hands are the Devil’s playthings,” Eddie’s hands (and more) will certainly get the job done. Anyway, nun!Chrissy and Demon!Eddie everyone.

[hellcheerficdatabase]

Cloud Nine

Author: @nature-and-music

Rating/Warning: Explicit

Chapter Count: 1/1

Description: Chrissy is in the middle of a lovely dream where she's resting on a soft cloud. What she doesn't know is that said cloud is about to give her the most interesting wake up call.

Tags: Alternate Universe- canon divergence, alternate universe- everyone lives/nobody dies, established relationship, soft Eddie, whipped Eddie, they're both touch starved okay, smut, HOT DAMN, Chrissy POV, one-shot, status: completed

[spacebabesuki]

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."

[piratefishmama]

don't know about you but professional hugger Eddie and touch starved Steve absolutely reeks of some Robin Buckley meddling to me

Oh, she's Steves office workplace buddy and ABSOLUTELY got Eddie's details from her girlfriend Chrissy, Eddie's bestie.

The meddling would be STRONG in this lmal

[bvtbxtch]

Jack O'Lantern Kiss | Eddie Munson

Day One of Kinktober

Summary: Carving pumpkins with your best friend Eddie leads to confessions you may or may not have always wanted to hear.

Pairings: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader, brief mention of Eddie Munson x Chrissy Cunningham

wc: ~2k

Content Warnings: fluffy fluff fluff, unrequited love, allusions to smut, hickies. This story takes place in an au where the upside down is not a thing. Although this is a pretty tame story, my blog is 18+ so Minors DNI.

A special thank you to my love and collab partner @darknesseddiem. I am so thankful to know you. Here's to an amazing October!

It was your favorite time of the year. The unforgiving Hawkins summer had ended its assault and the fiery leaves crunch underneath your boots and you can finally have an excuse to curl up with your favorite metalhead and read books all day. You had been best friends with Eddie Munson since 10th grade math (when he was in 11th grade) where you helped him figure out how to find x in beginner algebra equations. You immediately fell head over heels for him, but when he began dating Chrissy Cunningham, you learned how to stoke the fire in your heart to embers. Eddie and you continued to get closer throughout high school. Chrissy never made a fuss and you felt like a constant plus one in their little universe. Eddie was the first one to give you a swooping hug after walking the stage (about 20 minutes after he did). You both had dreams to leave sleepy Hawkins and find yourselves in some big city where you could cheer each other on from your shared apartment. You never imagined Eddie not being in your life; you knew he was your soulmate. It wasn’t until this past August that you considered it might be as more than friends.

-

Eddie called you at 3 in the morning on August 12th. You jolted up, body dusted in a light sheen of sweat from the near 30 degree night. You reached for the receiver and held it to your ear with a groggy hello. You were met with a small sniffle. You knew it was your Eddie. 

“Ed? What’s wrong?” You immediately were shaken from your sleepy daze.

“She… she-” Eddie cut himself off with a pitiful sob. You let out a long sigh and hung up the phone with a soft ‘I’ll be right there, Eddie’. 

The drive to Forest Hills Trailer Park was usually 15 minutes. You were there in 5. You had never heard Eddie cry before, and never expected to hear him cry that hard. You spent the night petting his head and hearing him weep into your body. Three years he had spent loving Chrissy Cunningam, when she had fallen out of love with him a while ago (if she had ever truly loved him at all). 

Since that night, you and Eddie had been inseparable - the impossibly close bond getting closer. You barely knew what your own bedroom looked like as you were almost constantly sleeping at Eddie’s trailer, him being too upset to sleep alone. You watched movies, went to hellfire ‘alumni’ meetings (Eddie called them that but you knew it was just a way for him to make sure that Mike and Dustin were running the club properly), and watched any and all Corroded Coffin gigs you could get to. Hugs became more frequent and Eddie would use any excuse to hold your hand. He was touch starved, and you could tell he was taking this out on you. But why would he not, you were his best friend, and even though you knew that’s where your relationship drew a line, you liked melting into Eddie’s arms or smiling at his forehead kisses. 

-

October brought more scary movies and smoke sessions around the bonfire in Steve Harrington’s backyard. As the month wrapped up, like the weather, Eddie got colder. You knew that Halloween was going to be the first holiday without Chrissy and he was feeling it. You still grabbed his hand and gave him small smiles, but you often got glassy brown puppy dog eyes matched with a small smile. You wanted to take this pain away for him and had just the idea. 

You fiddled with the old lock on Eddie’s trailer door, fumbling the grocery bag in your hands and careful not to step on the two bright orange pumpkins that stand on the concrete steps. You knew you had minimal time to prepare this surprise until Eddie was back from the body shop. You wiggle the knob one more time before it gives and you spill inside the homey space. You drop the bag on the kitchen counter and hastily grab the pumpkins from the step. 15 minutes later, you had flyers sprawled across the counter, the pumpkins sitting neatly on them, adorned with different carving tools and sharpies around them. In small bowls on the stove, Eddie’s favorite snacks: cheese balls, M&Ms, skittles and a bag of cool ranch Doritos. You startle at the door slamming open and stomps of Eddie's feet on the linoleum. You get up from the couch and greet him at the door.

“Hey sweetheart… what’s this??” Eddie’s frown turns upwards when he lays his eyes on your set up in his kitchen. He wraps you in a tight hug.

“Just something that I thought would cheer you up” you muffle your words into his chest. You look up at his chocolate eyes. “I know Halloween is your favorite, so thought we could start the festivities.” His eyes glass over, tears threatening to spill. “No, no Eddie, please don’t cry” You reach your hands up to cup his face. 

“No, sweetheart. These are good tears. Thank you for thinking of me.” He grabs your wrists to lower your hands and he kisses you on the cheek. “I’m gonna go change out of these dirty coveralls and then we can get this party started” The boy’s lopsided smile returned before he pushed away from you and trotted down the small hallway to his room. You made your way back into the kitchen, leaning against the counter with a dumbstruck smile on your face and butterflies threatening to erupt in your stomach. Your cheek burned where Eddie had kissed you and you raised your hand to trace over the spot. You wanted this feeling to last forever. You are pulled out of your trance when Eddie meets you in the kitchen, his hands trapping you against the counter. You smile up at the boy and your heart takes a tumble. Eddie had put his hair back in a low bun and you thought you were going to pass out from how good he looked, how close he was. His lips look so plump and his cheeks a perfect blush to give his alabaster skin some color. Your best friend was perfect. You smile back up at him.

“Well, since you set all of this up, the least I can do is make us some hot chocolate.” The boy quips. When you nod and smile in agreement, he grabs your hips and sits you up on the counter. You watch him in content while he putters around his kitchen. He passes you your favorite tomato soup mug full of steaming hot chocolate. He sips at his mug, eyes never leaving yours. You could feel tension growing so thick it could be cut with a knife - but what kind of tension? You were unsure. 

-

You spent the next two hours throwing pumpkin seeds at each other across the kitchen while Eddie’s new Black Sabbath cassette played in the background. Two faces full of shy adoration and a room full of giggles. You finally turned your pumpkin towards Eddie to show him your final design - a simple outline of a black cat and a bat stares back at Eddie. Eddie reveals his own pumpkin to show two skeletons holding hands. 

“Well that doesn’t look like a scary pumpkin at all” you tease. Eddie throws a handful of skittles at you. Both of you Erupt into a fit of giggles as you both grab handfuls of snacks that you can find and toss them at each other. Eddie lunges at you in an attempt to halt the food war. His hands wrap tightly around your waist and your laughter gets caught in your throat. Your smile falls as the tension finally feels like it is going to snap. You can see Eddie studying your eyes for any sort of discomfort. Although he finds some hesitation, he knows you feel safe - that you want him to be there with you. It’s the most devotion he has honestly felt in almost a year. Chrissy never looked at him the way you do; but if he was being honest with himself, he didn’t look at Chrissy the way he looks at you either. His eyes flicker to your lips as he licks his.

“Eddie,” you whisper. You feel as if all of the air around you has become thick, unable to breathe it in. The curly haired boy inches his face closer to yours, foreheads resting on each other. His breath fans lightly at your face and you can tell Eddie is feeling the same way as you. You nudge your nose against his as a silent plea for him to come closer. He obliges and presses his lips softly to yours. 

You felt electricity jolt down your spine, goosebumps riddled your body. This is what you have wanted for longer than you would like to admit. Eddie’s hands migrate up your back to cradle your face. His long fingers find purchase in your hair while his thumbs rub circles onto your cheeks. You pull yourself away to look at the boy.

“Eddie… please don’t do this because you miss her…” you whimpered. You couldn’t handle this being a one and done situation. You had gotten a taste of what it would be like to have Eddie as yours and you would rather die than give that up now. 

“Sweetheart… I… I have been so stupid. I should have broken up with Chrissy long before she broke up with me…” Your eyes search Eddie’s and all you can feel is warmth. He’s telling the truth.

“Eddie, why??”

“Because I’m in love with you… and I have been for a while” Eddie lets out a chuckle while tears threaten to spill over his lashes again. Your heart felt like it was going to burst out of your chest and you couldn’t help the ear splitting grin growing on your face. “I thought that being with Chrissy was supposed to be… right. But it way you all along. I tried to forget my feelings for you because I fooled myself into thinking that I was in love with her… But these past few months…” Eddie trailed as he studies every detail of your face; waiting for you to tell him to fuck off, or to push him away, but you keep him pleasantly waiting.

“I’ve been in love with you for a long time, Eddie. I just tried to push it down, I wanted you to be happy” 

You barely have time to finish your sentence and Eddie’s lips are back on yours. His move in sync with yours like you were made for each other. You lift your chin up to grant Eddie access to deepen the kiss. His tongue swipes over your bottom lip and you let out a content moan as his tongue enters your mouth. He pushes you backwards so you are again trapped between his body and the counter, pushing you up to resume your previous position. Eddie moves his kisses to the side of your mouth, then trails them down your jawbone to the pulsepoint behind your ear. He can feel your breath hitch when he sucks down to form a beautiful indigo bruise on your neck. He can’t help but smile against your body. He wants to devour you whole, leave you nothing but a gasping mess underneath him. His hands run up your sides, desperate to feel more of you. You break the kiss to help Eddie discard your shirt. His hands were magnetic - they now needed to be a permanent fixture on your body. His eyes fixed on your skin with such adoration your head spun. your own hands track up his torso to his neck to pull him back into you. As your lips reconnect, Eddie’s hands move south to the tops of your thighs. His hands find purchase at the apex of your hips and he feels you shudder against his mouth. The anticipation of feeling him where you want him the most was killing you. But Eddie pulls away from you suddenly, his eyes lower and he grabs for your shirt that had been discarded on the floor haphazardly.

Your brows furrow in confusion while you search his face for hesitation. Your heart begins to beat wildly… Was this just a joke? A heat of the moment type deal? You could feel beads of salty tears dot your waterline. 

“Eddie… Did I do something wrong?” Eddie looked at you with golden eyes full of passion. He wriggles your T-shirt over your head and holds your cheek in his hand.

“No, but I did something wrong. I don’t want this to feel like just a stupid hook up. I want to do this right because you deserve it. I love you, doll, and I want you to be my girl. I want to take you on dates and buy you flowers. I want to make you laugh and dress up nice for you because you deserve it.” You can feel your smile growing wickedly across your face.

“Okay, Eddie. I like the sound of that” you giggle.

“So what do you say? Wanna be my girl and make this official so we can take this to the bedroom?”

“Eddie… I thought you’d never ask.”

Taglist: @kirstinjayjay @ali-r3n @eddies-acousticguitar @sluggzillaa @hideoutside @tlclick73 @brinleighsstuff @poofyloofy @aol19 @filth-fiction-archive @anxiousobserver @vintagehellfire @mmunson86 @sadbitchfangirl @emma77645

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[steddieas-shegoes]

Tumblr Drabbles

Touch Starved Steve 

Soft Sweater Eddie

Sick Eddie / Sick Steve

Vampire Eddie / Part 2 / Part 3 

Supportive Uncle Wayne Series Part 1 / Supportive Uncle Wayne Series Part 2  

Idiots to Lovers

Handyman-ish Eddie 

Secret Nerd Steve based on this post - Part 2 (Angst) / Part 2 (Fluffy) / Part 2 (Explicit)

Dustin The Meddler 

Steve Feels Pretty: Nails Edition

Steve Feels Pretty: Skirt Edition

Eddie's Fear of Water 

Modern Migraine Steve / Part 2 / Part 3

Eddie Survival Day! / Part 2 

Cosplay Repair Eddie

Platonic Shower Stobin / Part 2

Surprise Disney Trip Steve and Chrissy Crush Bonding / Part 2: Prologue

Domestic Fluff Series : Laundry / Dishes / Fitted Sheet / Grocery Shopping / Pool Cleaning / Baking / Cooking / Gardening 

Steddie Dads Series: Crib Building / Formula Budget / 1st Birthday Bash / Ella The Clothes Thief