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sheneedsrocknroll92 · 12 hours ago

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WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK??!!!! I THOUGHT... I THOUGHT??!!! WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME???!!! I AM SCREAMING I AM CRYING AND SHAKING AAAAHHHHHH PLEASE I CAN'T!!!! I WAS ABOUT TO CRY TEARS OF JOY!!!! AAAHHHHHH!!!!

WILD CHILD KISSES

Pairings: Eddie Munson x Fem! Summary: Eddie's finally told he'll be graduating, but his spotlight is soon shadowed after a certain event is coming up. Warnings: mentions of drinking, flirting, tears, kissing. A/N: this is also kind of a warning, I am not American/ do not live there, therefore I do not know how your schooling day works, I have searched it up but there is no clear answer that will help me, so I shall continue to set it up the way my school does here in Australia, which is 2 periods, then 20 minute recess, then 1-2 periods, 40 minute lunch, then 1-2 periods.

buckle up, this is a long one. sorry. 7.3k

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Eddie Munson had spent the better part of the last three years sitting in this very chair, staring at the principal’s desk like it was some medieval execution block. He’d been here so many times he had the wood grain of the desk practically memorized. Detentions, lectures, warnings- all of it leading up to the same crushing reality year after year.

But this time? This time was different.

Principal Higgins let out a sigh, rubbing his temple like the news physically pained him to deliver. “Against all odds, Munson, it appears you’ve finally done enough to graduate.”

Eddie blinked. He was sure he’d heard wrong. “What?”

Higgins folded his hands atop his desk. “You passed, Munson. By the skin of your teeth, but you did it. You’ll be getting your diploma with the rest of your class.”

A slow grin spread across Eddie’s face. He slumped forward, pressing a hand to his chest like he’d just been shot. "you're fuckin' with me, right?"

Higgins cut him off with a dry look. “Language, Mister Munson, and no, it mostly came down to us wanting you out, but you passed, so"

Eddie placed a hand over his chest, right where his heart was and faked a tear, wiping it away with his free hand

"I'm flattered, Higgs, really-" he started before the older man huffed, rolling his eyes at the nickname the teen gave him.

"Yes, yes, now go to recess, boy"

Eddie didn’t need to be told twice.

He shot up from his chair so fast it nearly toppled over, practically sprinting out the door.

The lady at the front desk of the office looked up at the sound of the door slamming but she visibly relaxed when she saw Eddie's wide smile across his face as he almost skipped through the office.

"Farewell, Linda, you lovely old bat!"

The older woman gasped in offense as Eddie rushed past her, practically spinning her in her chair as he runs down the hall to the cafeteria.

He didn’t care that his boots squeaked against the linoleum, that a couple of freshmen nearly flattened themselves against the lockers to avoid being bulldozed. He had only one thought in his mind:

Tell Hellfire.

By the time he burst into the cafeteria, he was breathless, heart pounding like he’d just run a marathon. Quickly spotting his lost sheep at the Hellfire table, he smiled. The guys were mid-conversation, probably about their next campaign, when Eddie slammed his hands down on the table.

“Guess who's graduating"

For a second, silence.

Then, absolute chaos.

Dustin practically fell out of his chair, Jeff and Gareth erupted into cheers, and Mike started laughing like it was the greatest plot twist in history. Gareth, always the most dramatic, actually leaped onto his seat and threw his hands in the air. “WHAT? NO WAY!”

“I know!” Eddie cackled, throwing his arms up, “I thought I was doomed to haunt this hellhole forever, but lo and behold, miracles do exist!”

The guys pounded on the table, throwing their arms around him, shaking him with excitement. It was loud, ridiculous, everything Eddie could’ve hoped for.

And then, you.

You were smiling at him from across the table, bright-eyed, genuine. Like you were actually proud of him. Not just amused, not just surprised- but really, truly happy.

And without thinking, Eddie turned and hugged you.

It wasn’t like the one-armed, casual side-hugs he’d given other people. No, this was different. He wrapped his arms around you fully, pulling you against his chest, his heart still hammering in exhilaration. You smelled like something sweet- maybe it as your shampoo, maybe something you put on that morning. Either way, it was dizzying.

You were taken back at the hug, not sure where all this came from seen as though everything had been awkward between you today until now.

Your mind was tracing back to the almost-kiss yesterday, it made you nervous and weak in the knees every time you thought about it.

And believe me, you tried so hard to not think about it.

Arms wrapping slowly around his torso, you hugged him back.

For a second, it was just nice. Warm. Familiar in a way that made no sense.

But then it must have hit him. The tension.

His breath hitched, and suddenly, it wasn’t just excitement burning under his skin- it was something else. Something more dangerous.

Reality crashed down, and his arms stiffened. He pulled back, just slightly, just enough to put space between you both- but it was too late. The moment had already stretched just a second too long, crossed into something else.

You blinked up at him, still caught in that moment of pure joy, but it was already shifting. Already becoming something awkward.

Eddie swallowed hard, suddenly unsure of where to put his hands, what to do with himself. His voice came out rough, unsteady. “Uh… sorry.”

And then, before he could look at you again, before he could see whatever expression you were making, he turned away, rubbing the back of his neck like it never happened.

The Hellfire guys were still talking, still cheering, still high on the energy of the moment. None of them had noticed the weird shift between Eddie and you. But you noticed. He knew you did.

You were still standing there, arms now folded over your chest, watching him like you were trying to figure out what the hell had just happened.

Eddie didn’t want to figure it out. Not right now.

So, he did what he did best.

He played it off.

“So,” he said, clearing his throat, forcing a cocky smirk. “Who’s throwing me a graduation party?”

Dustin immediately started rambling about how they had to do something legendary, and just like that, the conversation shifted. The guys took the bait, launching into plans, joking about how Eddie had to go out with a bang.

But across the table, you were still watching him, your gaze unreadable.

And Eddie? He felt like his stomach was in knots.

Because for the first time, he wasn’t just trying to ignore the tension.

He was afraid of what it might mean.

It made you wonder if he really meant what he said- what he admitted to, last night.

Did he like you? did he really like you?

The bell rang, cutting through the chaos of the cafeteria. Eddie glanced around, the guys still animatedly discussing plans for his "legendary" graduation party, but the noise felt distant now. He glanced back at you, still standing there, arms crossed over your chest, looking like you didn’t know whether to stay or go.

"Guess we better get to class," Eddie muttered, his words a little too casual, though his heart was pounding in his chest. He tried to act like nothing had shifted, but he could feel it. You felt it too. Didn’t you?

You nodded, but the hesitation in your step matched his, like neither of you was quite ready for what came next. You pushed your chair back, and Eddie mirrored your movements, both of you standing awkwardly, not sure if you should say anything else.

The silence stretched between you as you both started walking toward the door. Eddie’s boots clicked on the linoleum, his pace a little faster than normal. He didn’t want to rush, but he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t keep the anxious energy from bubbling up inside him. Every now and then, he’d glance at you- just a quick look, but long enough to see the way you quickly turned your gaze elsewhere.

And then, he’d steal another glance, the second one always a little longer, like he was trying to figure out if you felt the same tightness in your chest, the same unease that was gnawing at him.

"So… you're finally graduating, huh?" You finally said, your voice a little quieter than usual, like you were trying to convince yourself it wasn’t all just some dream.

“Yeah…” Eddie said with a small laugh, rubbing the back of his neck, his fingers trembling slightly. “I still don’t know if I believe it, honestly. It’s like someone’s pulling a prank on me, but… here we are.”

He was trying to make light of it, but the truth was, his chest was full of nerves. What if this- what if everything- was just him imagining it all? His mind kept cycling back to the moment you hugged him. That warmth, that connection, that feeling of having you pressed against him—it wasn’t like anything else.

But what did it mean? Was it just excitement, or was it something more? Was it possible that you felt the same way?

Eddie couldn’t keep himself from glancing over at you again, and this time, when his eyes met yours, his breath caught. For just a fraction of a second, everything in him wanted to step closer, to close the gap, but he held back. He couldn’t push it. He wasn’t even sure what ‘it’ was yet.

You weren’t looking at him anymore. Instead, your eyes were fixed straight ahead, but Eddie could see the subtle way your lips pressed together, like you were thinking about something, something important. He felt a pang in his chest, the realization that you might not be as sure about all of this as he was.

Your voice broke through his thoughts again. “I’m glad you are, though, took you long enough”

Eddie blinked, surprised. The way you said it, your tone so genuine, it made his heartbeat even faster. It felt like you were saying more than just what you meant, like there was something else there, something he had to pull out of you, but he didn’t know how.

He offered a small, sheepish grin, rubbing the back of his neck again. “Yeah… I’m glad too.”

There it was. That moment when everything felt like it was about to tip over the edge. Eddie didn’t know what to do with the way his pulse was racing, the way his thoughts kept spiraling back to you, to what had happened at the table, to everything that might happen next. What was he supposed to say? What if you didn’t feel the same way?

The hallway felt strangely smaller now, like the space between you both had been shrinking with every step, and Eddie had no idea how to fix it.

You were still walking beside him, your steps so quiet compared to his, but every time he glanced over, your eyes seemed to flick back to him before you quickly turned away. He could tell you were nervous, just as unsure as he was. And that made it worse, because if you were thinking the same things he was, then what?

He couldn’t just keep pretending like it wasn’t happening. He couldn’t keep pretending that every time you looked at him, his heart didn’t race.

The classroom door loomed ahead, and you both hesitated before stepping through, but Eddie didn’t want to stop walking. He didn’t want the moment to end. He didn’t want to face the reality that he might be the only one who felt this strange, burning thing between you two.

He followed you into the classroom, taking his seat beside you. There was still too much space between you both. It wasn’t enough to feel close, but it was too much to ignore. Every glance, every shift in position made his stomach twist in a way that was both exhilarating and terrifying.

And every time his eyes met yours, all he could think was: Does she know? Does she feel it too? Or am I just reading too much into this?

You met his gaze once more, and for a split second, everything seemed to pause- his heart in his throat, your eyes wide with something unreadable. And then the moment passed, just like that, leaving Eddie both relieved and disappointed all at once.

He smiled awkwardly, looking away, trying to focus on anything but how badly he wanted to say something, anything, that could break the silence that was threatening to crush him.

But for now, neither of you spoke. And Eddie wondered if maybe he was the only one who was brave enough to admit it.

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Third period zoomed past, you and Eddie making a few comments on the work here and there, but it was mostly laid back as the end of school was only a week away, teachers slacking off and letting the kids do whatever.

The hallway erupted with noise as students spilled into the corridors. You and Eddie stepped out together, moving in the same direction toward the cafeteria. Neither of you spoke at first. You had walked with Eddie plenty of times before, but today, it felt different- charged with something unspoken.

The walls were lined with prom posters, bright colors and glitter catching the fluorescent light as you passed. PROM: A NIGHT TO REMEMBER! in bold letters, surrounded by stars and hearts.

You frowned at first, knowing that all these decorations were not up an hour when you entered this class. So, there had to be a handful of people to decorate every hall and corridor in an hour.

Prom, yes, everyone was already talking about, for at least 2 months now, but these decorations make everyone's eyes light up and smile-

But your stomach twisted. You could feel Eddie glance at you, but by the time you turned to meet his eyes, he was already looking away.

He was acting weird. But so were you.

Your fingers tightened around the strap of your bag. Would he ask you? He had confessed yesterday, hadn’t he? It wasn’t a dream, wasn’t some drunken mistake. He liked you. So why hadn’t he said anything about prom?

You stole another glance at him, catching the way he ran a hand through his curls, looking everywhere but at you. The usual easy-going, over-the-top Eddie Munson was nowhere to be found. Instead, the boy walking next to you was fidgety, lost in thought.

And truthfully? So were you.

Maybe he doesn’t like me after all.

The idea had been creeping into your mind all morning. If he really wanted to go with you, wouldn’t he have asked by now? Maybe the almost-kiss yesterday didn’t mean anything to him. Maybe he regretted telling you how he felt. Maybe he just said it because he thought you needed to hear it.

You felt something heavy settle in your chest.

Eddie, meanwhile, was caught in his own storm of thoughts. He wanted to ask you. Hell, he’d spent all morning thinking about it, trying to work up the nerve. But the words never made it past his lips.

Because deep down, he knew the truth.

She wouldn’t want to go with me.

You were you, and he was him. The town freak. The guy everyone whispered about in the halls, the one teachers sighed over, the one the jocks mocked for sport. What would it look like if you showed up at prom with him? What would people say about you?

Besides, if you did like him- if you really liked him- you would’ve said something by now. Right? You would have said so yesterday, when he told you. You wouldn’t just sit there, waiting. You would’ve told him.

Which meant you didn’t.

And that was that.

So he stayed quiet, shoving his hands deep into his pockets as the two of you pushed through the cafeteria doors.

The Hellfire table was already buzzing with conversation. The usual chaos of lunch was in full swing- trays clattering, voices overlapping- but today, there was one subject dominating the table: prom.

"Okay, but hear me out," Dustin was saying, practically bouncing in his seat. "I think prom could actually be cool if they had, like, a real band instead of some cheesy DJ."

"You can’t even go, Henderson," Gareth pointed out, rolling his eyes. "You’re a freshman. None of us are seniors except Eddie and Jeff"

That was when Dustin’s eyes landed on the two of you. A slow, knowing grin stretched across his face. "Speaking of which-" he turned to you, practically vibrating with excitement. "Did Eddie ask you to prom?"

The words hit you like a slap.

Your heart leaped into your throat, cheeks flushing with heat. It was such a sudden question, so blunt, that for half a second, you couldn’t even react. Your eyes darted to Eddie on instinct, searching for something- some sign of an answer, some confirmation that, yes, of course he was going to ask you-

But Eddie wasn’t looking at you.

He was staring at Dustin like the kid had just lit a stick of dynamite and tossed it onto the table. His face drained of color, his mouth opening and closing uselessly.

"No!" he blurted, voice cracking slightly. "No, I-uh-no, I didn’t-"

He was stammering.

The breath you didn’t realize you were holding slipped out in a quiet exhale, and something cold settled in your stomach.

Oh.

The disappointment hit you harder than expected, like a weight pressing down on your chest.

Dustin, completely oblivious, laughed. "Dude, why not? You like her, right?"

You froze.

Eddie froze.

The table went quiet.

Eddie let out a strangled laugh, running a hand down his face. "Henderson-shut up." His voice was strained, panicked.

Dustin blinked, confused for half a second before realization dawned on his face. "Oh." His eyes widened slightly. "Wait, she doesn’t know?"

You felt your breath hitch.

Oh, you know, you just didn't know anyone else- the whole of Hellfire- knew.

Eddie squeezed his eyes shut like he wanted the earth to swallow him whole. "Jesus Christ," he muttered under his breath before turning to you, finally meeting your gaze.

For a second, neither of you spoke.

Your heart was hammering in your chest. His confession from yesterday flashed in your mind. You knew he liked you. He had told you. So why was he acting like this? Why was he shutting it down like it wasn’t even an option?

The way he was looking at you- like he knew he just messed up, like he knew you were hurt but didn’t know how to fix it- made your stomach twist even more.

You swallowed hard, forcing a tight-lipped smile as you pushed your chair back. "I’m gonna grab some lunch."

Your voice was quieter than you wanted it to be.

You didn’t wait for a response. You just stood up and walked away.

You heard Eddie shift beside you, like he was about to say something, but he didn’t.

Because what could he say?

The noise of the cafeteria faded into background static as you moved toward the lunch line, your mind racing.

You had thought- hoped- maybe he would ask. Maybe last night meant something. Maybe he meant it when he said he liked you.

But now? Now you weren’t sure anymore.

And Eddie- Eddie just sat there, staring after you, hands clenched into fists beneath the table.

He wanted to go with you. God, he wanted to.

But he had a feeling he just ruined everything.

And the worst part?

He had no idea how to fix it.

By the time you returned to the Hellfire table, tray in hand, the conversation had fizzled out. The guys had sensed the shift in energy- how the excitement over prom had suddenly turned into something way more awkward-

And one by one, they had made their exits. Even Dustin, who normally lacked any kind of social awareness, had mumbled something about needing to grab a book from his locker before practically running off.

So now, it was just you and Eddie.

Alone.

He was still sitting in the same spot, hunched forward with his arms resting on the table, fingers tapping restlessly against the wood. You sat down across from him, trying to ignore the way your heart twisted at the sight of him- how his usual confidence had been drained from his posture, how his brows were slightly furrowed like he was deep in thought.

For a minute, neither of you spoke.

You focused on your tray, picking at your food without really eating. You could feel Eddie watching you, could practically hear the wheels turning in his head as he struggled for the right words.

Finally, he cleared his throat.

"Uh- so- " He ran a hand through his curls, letting out a sharp breath. "That was… a whole thing, huh?"

You didn’t look up. "Yep."

Eddie winced at your clipped tone. He hesitated, then leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice. "Look, Dustin’s just- he’s an idiot, alright? He doesn’t know when to shut up."

You shrugged, still not meeting his eyes. "I don’t care."

Eddie blinked, caught off guard by how casual you sounded. He had expected you to be mad, or embarrassed, or something- but not this. Not this calm, unaffected brush-off.

"You don’t care?" He repeated slowly, testing the words like they didn’t make sense.

"Yeah," you said simply, finally looking up. "I mean, it’s not like I wanted to go with you anyway."

That was a lie.

But the words came out so easily. So effortlessly. Like they were true.

Eddie barely had time to mask his reaction.

It was quick- just a flicker of something in his expression, something unguarded and sharp, like your words had landed right where it hurt.

He covered it up almost instantly, forcing a chuckle as he leaned back in his seat. "Right," he said, nodding. "Of course. Why would you, right?"

You could tell he was trying to play it off, trying to act like it didn’t matter.

But you knew Eddie well enough to know when something did matter.

And this?

This did.

But you didn’t take it back.

You just smiled, small and polite, before returning your attention to your tray.

Eddie watched you for a moment longer, his fingers still tapping anxiously against the table.

Then, with a barely audible sigh, he slumped back against his chair, staring up at the ceiling like he had just royally screwed up.

Because maybe, just maybe, he had.

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The parking lot was loud with the usual after-school chaos- cars starting up, doors slamming, groups of students lingering to chat before heading home.

Eddie stood by his van, hands shoved deep in his pockets, rocking back and forth on his heels. His stomach was a mess of nerves, though he’d never admit it. He had been waiting—hoping—you’d show up.

And then, finally, you did.

You were walking towards the buses, books hugged to your chest, brows slightly furrowed like your mind was somewhere else entirely.

He hesitated for half a second, then pushed off the side of his van, striding over to you.

“Hey,” he called, trying to sound casual, like he hadn’t been waiting for you.

You glanced up, a little surprised. “Hey.”

Eddie rubbed the back of his neck.

“So, uh, the guys are heading to my place. Y’know, to celebrate my miraculous academic achievement.” He smirked, tilting his head. “Figured I’d give you a ride.”

Your grip on your books tightened. “Oh- I, um- I actually have something to do.”

Eddie frowned. “What?”

You shifted your weight, glancing toward your car like you were in a hurry. “Yeah, I just- I can’t make it. Sorry.”

Eddie blinked, caught off guard. He had been so sure you’d come.

He forced a chuckle. “C’mon, what could possibly be more important than celebrating me finally getting out of that godforsaken school?”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “I just-”

“Please?” Eddie’s voice softened, and something about it made you freeze.

He wasn’t just asking. He was really asking.

Like he needed you there.

You looked up at him, at the hopeful, almost nervous glint in his eyes.

And just like that, your excuse- your whole plan to put some distance between you two- crumbled.

You sighed. “Fine.”

Eddie’s face lit up. “Really?”

You rolled your eyes. “Yes, Munson. You win.”

Eddie grinned, stepping back and gesturing toward the van with a dramatic bow. “Then hop in, sweetheart.”

And God help you.

Your stomach flipped, your breath hitched, and for a second, the world tilted just slightly.

That stupid nickname.

He said it like it was nothing, like it didn’t curl around you, warm and teasing, making your heart stutter in your chest.

Like it didn’t make you feel dizzy in the worst- and best- way.

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to play it off, to act like that one word didn’t shake you to your core.

And despite everything- the tension, the confusion, the ache in your chest from earlier- you found yourself smiling as you followed him.

Because, really, how could you ever say no to Eddie Munson?

The guy that's been driving you crazy as of late, the guy you can't get out of your head. It was nothing but unfair, really.

Eventually, the van rattled to a stop in front of the trailer, the familiar sight of Forest Hills mobile homes stretching out under the dimming afternoon sky. The drive had been… mostly quiet, filled with a comfortable kind of tension that neither of you had tried to break. The radio had been the only real sound between you, some old rock ballad playing low through the speakers, but even then, neither of you had been really listening.

Eddie pulled the keys from the ignition, glancing at you before shoving the door open.

You followed him up the steps, the screen door creaking as he pushed it open. The moment you stepped inside, you were hit with the familiar scent of coffee and the faintest trace of cigarette smoke.

And there he was, sprawled out on the couch with a cup of coffee in one hand, his other resting on his stomach. He barely glanced up from the newspaper at first.

Then he saw you.

And the absolute shit-eating grin that took over his face was so immediate, so smug, you almost took a step back.

“Well, well,” Wayne drawled, folding the paper and setting it aside. His eyes flicked between you and Eddie, like he already knew something neither of you were saying. “Second day in a row, huh? Should I be expectin’ you tomorrow too?”

Your face burned instantly.

“Oh- uh-” You opened your mouth, but no words came out.

Eddie groaned, rubbing his face with both hands. “Jesus Christ, Wayne.”

Wayne smirked, sipping his coffee like he wasn’t watching you both squirm. “I’m just sayin’- you never bring anyone over, and now suddenly I got a guest two days in a row? Feels like I should be puttin’ out another dinner plate.”

Eddie huffed. “She’s not- ” He stopped himself, shaking his head. “Forget it. Can we not make this weird?”

Wayne just chuckled, but the teasing gleam in his eyes never faded.

Eddie sighed and flopped into the recliner, rubbing a hand over his face. “Look, I brought her here so we can celebrate, old man.”

Wayne raised a brow. “Celebrate?”

Eddie leaned forward, his grin almost boyish. “I’m graduating.”

For a second, Wayne didn’t react. Just blinked.

Then, slowly, his expression shifted, the teasing melting away into something softer.

“Say that again?”

Eddie’s grin widened. “I’m graduating, Wayne. Like, officially. No more repeating senior year, no more Higgins breathing down my neck. I’m done.”

Wayne set his coffee down, staring at Eddie like he had just grown a second head. “Well, I’ll be damned.”

And then, before Eddie could react, Wayne was up- clapping him on the shoulder, gripping the back of his neck in one of those rough, affectionate gestures only Wayne Munson could pull off.

“Goddamn, Ed,” he muttered, his voice gruff. “You really did it.”

Eddie laughed, leaning into the touch like he was twelve again and just scored a home run at some little league game. “Told ya I would.”

Wayne huffed. “You told me that two years ago, and I stopped believin’ ya after the second time.” But his voice was warm, proud.

Your heart clenched a little, watching the moment unfold.

Eddie was trying to play it cool, but you could see it—the way his shoulders relaxed, the way he ducked his head slightly, like that small bit of approval from Wayne meant the world to him.

Which, knowing Eddie, it probably did.

Wayne turned to you suddenly, pointing a finger. “And you- you keepin’ him outta trouble, or are you the one gettin’ him into it?”

Eddie cackled. “Oh, definitely the second one.”

You rolled your eyes, but you were smiling.

Wayne smirked. “That’s what I thought.”

And just like that, he clapped Eddie on the back one last time before heading for the kitchen. “I got a couple beers in the fridge. You want one?”

Eddie grinned. “Hell yes, I—”

Wayne shot him a look before looking at you, to which you nodded slowly.

Wayne snorted but grabbed a couple of drinks anyway, muttering something about damn kids under his breath.

You just shook your head, sitting down on the couch while Eddie kicked his boots off and sprawled out beside you.

And for the first time all day, it felt like maybe- just maybe- things didn’t have to be so complicated.

Wayne handed each of you a beer, the cold condensation dripping onto your fingers. He patted Eddie on the back, a proud smile creasing his weathered face.

"Well, I gotta get ready for work in about an hour, so we can celebrate tomorrow, ay?" He glanced over at you, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "And I assume you'll be there too?"

You felt your cheeks flush, and you quickly looked down at your feet, suddenly finding your worn-out shoes incredibly fascinating.

"Wayne—" Eddie began, his voice tinged with embarrassment.

But his uncle cut him off with a chuckle. "—so that's a yes?"

You couldn't help but feel the flutter in your chest at the idea of being invited to another hangout, but it left you a little nervous, too.

Eddie sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "We'll see, Wayne. Don't scare her off before then."

Wayne laughed, clearly enjoying the moment. "Alright, alright. I'll leave you kids to it."

As he walked away, you dared to glance at Eddie. He met your eyes, a small smile tugging at his lips. The air between you both felt thick with the unspoken.

"Sorry about him," Eddie muttered, his tone more sheepish than usual.

You shook your head, offering him a soft smile. "It’s alright. He’s... nice."

Eddie returned your smile, and for a brief moment, the world outside the trailer seemed to blur. There was something warm in the way he looked at you, like you mattered to him. But before it could linger too long, he cleared his throat.

"Wanna go to my room?"

You nodded. "Sure."

Eddie led the way, his boots echoing in the narrow hallway. His room came into view, posters of bands covering the walls, and an old guitar standing proudly in the corner. You stepped inside, your eyes scanning the space. It was exactly how you'd imagined-

Chaotic and full of character.

You stopped just inside the door as Eddie turned to face you, but before either of you could speak, Wayne's voice cut through the air from the kitchen.

"Better keep that door open!"

You and Eddie exchanged confused glances.

"Why?" Eddie asked, his tone laced with annoyance.

Wayne leaned against the doorway, a shit-eating grin on his face. "Don’t pretend what I walked in on you two doing yesterday didn’t happen. I don’t wanna be a grandpa just yet, boy."

Your heart jumped in your chest, your face burning with embarrassment. "We didn’t-"

Eddie’s face turned a deeper shade of red, and he cut you off. "Jesus, Wayne! Nothing happened!"

Wayne laughed, enjoying the discomfort he’d caused. "Just messing with ya. But seriously, door stays open."

Eddie rolled his eyes and led you into his room, leaving the door ajar as Wayne insisted. As soon as you were inside, Eddie dropped his backpack onto the floor with a heavy sigh.

“Sorry about that," Eddie muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. "Still think he's nice?"

You laughed, trying to shake off the awkwardness. "Yeah, He's alright"

Eddie collapsed onto his bed, stretching out with a groan as he kicked off his Reeboks. You hesitated for a second, standing in the middle of his room.

The silence between you was comfortable at first, but soon, you felt it shift. The questions you both had about each other lingered in the air.

Eddie finally broke the quiet, his voice low and thoughtful. "so...about yesterday."

Your brow furrowed in confusion as you turned to look at him, a little nervous. "What do you mean?"

Eddie rolled over onto his side, propping himself up with one arm. His eyes flicked to you, and his gaze softened. “I mean... I’ve never really been good at this whole ‘being honest’ thing. But with you? I don’t know, it’s different. I keep thinking about it—about what happened between us, what it means. And it’s weird, but in a good way."

Your heart beat faster, the uncertainty clouding your thoughts. Could he really be saying what you thought he was saying?

Eddie laughed softly, rubbing his face in frustration. "I’m not good at this. But I don’t want you to think I’m just..." He stopped himself, looking over your frame from where you stood

"do you wanna sit?" he patted the spot on his bed beside him, shuffling over.

You looked around before slowly stepping to his bed, shuffling to the wall beside him, when you look up to come face to face, you shuffle away, not realising how close you became.

Clearing your throat, you mumble an apology, but he only stares at you, his eyes soft and warm as he smiles, his dimples on display as he fiddles with his rings.

Your gaze followed down to beside him, where a fluffy brown bear sat lopsided on his pillow.

You smiled and leaned over him.

His breath hitched when he followed over every curve of your body the way your ass stuck in the air and the way your shirt revealed cleavage so dangerous that he had to close his eyes, a cold sweat breaking out as you leaned away to sit back down

"Is this Ozzy?" you beamed brightly when Eddie opened his eyes.

He frowned for a second "how do you know that?"

Eddie never tells anything that personal to anyone- especially you, why would he tell you he still sleeps with a stuffed teddy bear and has a name for him?

With a raised eyebrow you laughed softly "on our da- at the fair... I told you I had a few teddys and you told me you had one"

You played with the worn-out bear in your hands and Eddie felt his heart explode in his chest. He remembers it, and he curses himself for forgetting

"right, yeah" he nodded slowly

"S'pretty worn down" you mumbled, examining the bear

The teddy bear looks like it's been loved for years, its once soft fur is now matted and thin in some places, with patches of faded color. The edges of its ears are frayed, the stitching barely holding on in places where it’s been hugged too tightly over the years.

The eyes are scratched, losing some of its glossy shine. The bear’s nose, once a neat little button, has worn down into a faded stitch, barely visible. Its limbs, though still stuffed, are soft and floppy, having lost the firm structure they once had. the bow around its neck stained and ripped. There’s a small tear on its side, the fabric worn thin, but it’s been lovingly stitched back together- a sign of years of comfort, care, and maybe a few bumps along the way.

Despite the wear, it still carries that comforting, familiar scent of childhood- a mix of dust, warmth, and a little bit of home.

Eddie chuckled lowly "yeah...well, s'about fifteen years old so..."

"Mm. Ozzy hasn't been making music for that long, though" you pointed out

"Yeahhh. I only named him when I was...thirteen?" he smiled, looking and loving the way you handled him with care "don't know... Mum tried to think of names but...none of them really felt like him..."

You looked over at him, finding his gaze stuck on the teddy, eyes hung low, rested.

"So, your mum gave him to you?" You spoke, handing it to him.

He smiled, nodding, letting the bear sit in his lap as he brought his knees up.

"yeah...she saved up for months to afford him...she tried to make that birthday so special...I remember dad getting mad when I opened it, he didn't want her spending so much money of a stupid gift for 'girls'" he laughed humourlessly.

"but it was one of the best gifts I've gotten ever...mum always treated us like brothers because that's what I wanted her to do...dad thought it was stupid though; he hid him for about 2 months before mum found him and gave him back..."

When the first tear fell you rushed to brush it away gently. He shook his head, putting the bear beside him as he cleared his throat.

With a sip of his beer, he sighed, leaning his head on the wall as he looked forward.

The room was silent for a few moments. You take the time to look around the room, really look.

The Corroded Coffin banner above your head and the pictures that look like they have been ripped out of a magazine scattered on the walls. Clothes piled in the corner of the room, random trinkets all over the floor, it was so Eddie.

He sat up with a groan, going to his CD collection in his desk, right below his guitar that's hung up against his mirror "music?"

With a quick nod, you looked at the options he handed you. finding a bunch of covers that look straight out of a horror film, but your eyes wandered to the orange and yellow CD, one that looks familiar and frowned

"I know Metal freaks you out" he chuckled lightly "but it's the only music I have"

You remember, the music store where you had been caught looking at that exact album.

He saw your gaze on W.A.S.P the last command and smiled "still fascinated by it?"

Before you could respond, he placed the disc in the player and the blasting of music came on.

The first notes hit, and your chest tightened instantly. It was loud- the kind of loud that filled every inch of space, that crawled under your skin and took over your heartbeat.

The guitar riff tore through the air, sharp and reckless, and when the drums kicked in, you swore you felt them in your ribs. The sheer force of it had you frozen, your hands gripping the edge of Eddie’s bed as if the sound alone might knock you back.

Then the voice came in.

"I ride, I ride the winds that bring the rain…"

Your breath caught, pulse stuttering. The way he sang- gritty, hungry, like every word was bitten off with sharp teeth. You swallowed hard, your heart hammering against your ribs as you listened.

Eddie was watching you.

You felt it before you even turned your head. He was leaning back, one arm draped over his knee, the other lazily tapping a rhythm against his thigh. His rings caught the dim light of the room, glinting as his fingers moved.

But his eyes?

His eyes were on you.

"A creature of love and I can’t be tamed…"

Heat crept up your neck, a flood of goosebumps creeping their way onto your skin.

You weren’t sure if it was the song or the way Eddie looked at you, but something in your stomach flipped, twisting tighter with every second.

The chorus hit, bursting through the speakers like a wildfire.

"I’m a wild child, come and love me…"

Your hands clenched into fists.

It was so blatant, so bold, like the song wasn’t even trying to hide what it was about. It wasn’t sweet, wasn’t careful- it was raw, unashamed, hungry.

And Eddie was still watching you.

His gaze flickered, his lips twitching into something almost knowing. Like he could see the way your fingers curled in your lap, like he knew exactly what kind of effect the music was having on you.

You tore your eyes away, staring at the stereo instead.

"I need you to touch me… ‘Cause I want what you do to me…"

You exhaled shakily.

It wasn’t just the lyrics. It was the way the guitars screamed, the way the drums crashed like a thunderstorm, the way every single note was laced with something untamed and electric. It sent shivers down your spine.

And the worst part?

You liked it.

Eddie leaned in slightly, voice barely loud enough to hear over the music.

"Not so bad, huh?"

You swallowed, your throat dry.

He was close- closer than before. You could feel the warmth of him, the smell of cigarettes and cheap cologne and something else uniquely Eddie.

Your heart pounded.

You turned your head slowly, meeting his gaze again. He was grinning now, lazy and pleased, like he could feel your nervous energy crackling in the air between you.

You had no idea if he was thinking about the song’s lyrics. If he was thinking about how they fit.

But you were.

As the song swelled, the raw, electric energy filled the small room, pressing in on you from all sides. The words pulsed in your veins, the heavy beat vibrating through your bones.

"I’m a wild child, come and love me… I want you…"

Eddie was still watching you.

Your heart was racing. Not just from the music. Not just from the way it shook the walls and the floor beneath you. But from him. From the way he was looking at you- eyes half-lidded, like he was memorizing every part of this moment.

You could barely breathe.

And then, as the chorus hit again, as the song begged and burned, you turned your head just as he did.

Your noses brushed.

For a split second, neither of you moved. Just hovered there, inches apart, the music crashing around you, your breaths uneven.

Then Eddie whispered, "Sweetheart..."

You didn’t think. You just moved.

Your lips met his- tentative, hesitant- But as soon as you felt the warmth of his mouth, the way he sucked in a sharp breath, you knew there was no stopping it.

Eddie made a noise in the back of his throat- something between a groan and a sigh, relief and desperation tangled together. His hand lifted, fingers tangling in the back of your hair as he pulled you closer, deepening it.

The song roared around you.

"A naked heat machine, I want your love!"

Your stomach flipped as his lips moved against yours, slow but sure, like he’d been waiting for this. And God, maybe you had too. Maybe that’s why it felt so dizzying, so right.

You kissed each other like you were both afraid it wasn't real.

When you finally broke apart, you opened your eyes.

And you found that you weren't kissing him.

Instead, you were in his van, music blaring in your ears as he drove you to his trailer, talking about his graduation party, and you? you were imagining kissing him for the 100th time this evening.

God, you're so hooked screwed.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Ha. you really thought? sorry.

Taglist:

@exploding-bonbon @xlostitx @pupwrites @carolineesnell @foreveranexpatsposts @itsmadamehydra @thedoubleexposurephotography @g3n3zshack @dontputyourfckingdrinkonmytable @emxxblog @nubedeoctubreval @bimboshaggy @sheneedsrocknroll92 @callmytherapistplease-blog @ifeelbadbutimhot @littlemissholy @sammybrrr @alastorssimp @e-c-a-r-l-a-t-e

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

#DUDE I REALLY THOUGHT THEY HAD KISSED WHILE LISTENING TO THAT BANGER AND I WAS CRYING ALREADY!!!! 😭😭😭😭😭😭#Eddie Munson Fanfics #Fave

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sheneedsrocknroll92 · 12 hours ago

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LUPERCALIA

Pairings: Emperor Geta x Fem!reader Summary: You participate in Lupercalia with your husband. Warnings: 18+ smut. MDNI mention of whipping, nudity. p in v

This is my first fic for my Valentine event!

Valentine Masterlist

Ⅰ Ⅱ Ⅲ Ⅳ Ⅴ Ⅵ Ⅶ Ⅷ Ⅸ Ⅹ Ⅺ Ⅻ XIII

The torches burned low in the grand halls of the Palatine Palace, their golden glow flickering against the marble columns. Beyond the palace walls, Lupercalia roared through the streets of Rome. Laughter and drunken chants echoed through the Forum, accompanied by the steady pounding of bare feet against stone. The scent of sacrificial blood, burnt offerings, and spiced wine carried on the cold February air.

From the terrace overlooking the city, Emperor Geta stood, his expression unreadable as he observed the chaos below. Half-naked Lupercalia, still streaked with goat’s blood, ran wild, striking young women with thin strips of hide in a ritual meant to bless them with fertility and ease childbirth. The women laughed and shrieked, but they did not run. They stood willingly, arms outstretched, eager for the blessing.

At his side, you watched as well. Your dark eyes, lined with kohl, flickered between the crowd and your husband’s silent disapproval.

"You call it ridiculous," you mused, "but Rome calls it tradition."

Geta exhaled sharply, swirling his Falernian wine in a silver goblet. "Rome also believed that Romulus and Remus suckled at the teat of a she-wolf. Superstition, all of it."

"And yet," you murmured, your gaze turning back to the spectacle below, "you do not forbid it."

He scoffed. "Because Rome would riot if I did."

A cool breeze drifted through the open-air terrace, rustling the golden embroidery on your stola. You turned toward him, your voice softer now. "Would you deny me the same luck?"

His fingers tensed around the goblet. He knew what you meant. A child. An heir.

For all his wealth, for all the power of his name, it was the one thing he had not yet secured. His father, Septimius Severus, had raised two sons to rule Rome, and now Geta ruled alone, His brother's condition so bad he is unable to rule. Which leaves Geta alone, with no child of his own to follow him. He knew how Rome whispered about it. How they whispered about you.

His gaze lingered on you in the torchlight- the high cheekbones, the regal bearing, the way you carried yourself with the grace of a woman who had spent your entire life in the shadow of emperors. He had chosen you not just for your lineage but for your mind, your sharp wit, the way you stood beside him in a world where women were expected to stand behind.

After a moment, he set his goblet down and gestured to a waiting servant. A strip of goat hide, still fresh from the sacrifice, was placed into his open palm.

You knew the custom. You knew what was required.

Wordlessly, you stepped away from the warmth of your cloak, undoing the golden pins that held the fabric in place, letting it slip from your shoulders and pool at your feet. The air was cold against your skin, but you did not flinch. You wore only the fine linen undertunic beneath, light and thin enough that every movement of your body was visible beneath the fabric.

The Lupercalia rite demanded that women be struck bare-skinned, unobstructed by heavy garments. In the streets, Roman women stood unclothed, laughing and reaching for the lashes as if inviting the gods’ favour. Here, in the privacy of the palace, you stood before Geta, the man who ruled an empire, the man who had never needed to prove his power over you.

Geta hesitated. The emperor of Rome, the son of gods, bound by a tradition older than the Republic itself. Then, with a quiet breath, he brought the leather down in a sharp, decisive strike against your thigh.

The first lash was firm but controlled, the sting blooming across your skin in a heat that spread through your limbs. You inhaled sharply, your fingers curling at your sides, but you did not retreat. You had asked for this. You had asked him to honour the gods, to honour you.

The second strike came swiftly after, higher this time, catching the curve of your hip. The fabric of your undertunic did little to dull the sensation; if anything, it heightened it, pressing against the warmth rising beneath your skin. Geta’s eyes darkened as he watched you, the flickering torchlight reflecting the way your breath quickened.

Again, the lash fell. Then again. A steady rhythm, measured, deliberate. It was not punishment- it was ritual. It was devotion. It was an offering, not just to the gods, but to each other.

By the time the final stroke landed, a soft gasp left your lips, and the silence that followed was thick with something unspoken. Geta dropped the leather to the floor between you, his breathing uneven. Slowly, carefully, he reached for you, his fingers brushing against the reddened skin where the lashes had landed.

His voice was quiet. "Does it hurt?"

You lifted your chin, meeting his gaze. "Would it matter if it did?"

A muscle in his jaw flexed. He hated that you were right.

He cupped your hip, his thumb tracing the mark he had left there. "The gods have heard you now."

"And you?" you whispered. "Do you hear me?"

Geta said nothing at first. Then, in a rare moment of vulnerability, he pressed his forehead to yours, his grip tightening as if anchoring himself to you. "I hear you."

"Then listen closely," you murmured, tilting your head to brush your lips against his cheek, feeling the rough stubble that indicates the day's celebrations have begun without him. "I want more than Lupercalia blessings from the gods. I want our blessings, Geta. Our child, our heir."

His hands tensed, gripping your waist harder, as if he could physically hold onto your words, make them tangible. "I know," he breathed, his voice strained. "Believe me, I know."

"But can you give it to me?" You asked, your fingers trailing up his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath the linen of his tunic. "Can you give us the future we both desire?"

Geta pulled back slightly, his eyes searching yours in the dim light.

You and your dear Emperor have tried, you have tried so so many times to become with child, but after so many failed attempts, you pray that this would work out for you both.

It would be a shame to fail to give your husband a child. It hurt you.

"I am trying," he said, his voice low and sincere. "Every night, every dawn… I pray, I offer sacrifices, I seek omens and portents. But the gods remain silent. They withhold their favour, leaving me with nothing but frustration and despair."

He leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear. "Sometimes I wonder if it's because of me. If I'm not worthy of their blessing. That perhaps I'm cursed, doomed to rule without an heir, without legacy."

Geta's confession hung in the air, heavy with doubt and desperation. He has always been a man of action, of conquests and triumphs, but in this moment, he seemed fragile, vulnerable. Like a king stripped of his armor, exposed and uncertain.

"Shh," you whispered, placing a finger against his lips.

His lips parted slightly at your touch, and for a fleeting instant, you glimpse the lost boy behind the emperor, the son yearning for his mother's love, the husband desperate for his wife's comfort.

"I don't believe that," you said softly, your hand sliding down to cradle his jaw. "The gods adore you, Geta. They've blessed you with power, strength, and a heart capable of great love. If they're withholding something, it's not because of you, but because it's meant for another time."

You leaned in, pressing your forehead to his, sharing your conviction, your faith in him. "Shall we try again?" you said, leaving a hot trail of kisses down his jewelled neck

A shuddering sigh escaped him as your lips caress his skin, each kiss igniting sparks under his flesh. His grip on your hips tightening, pulling you flush against him, the hard planes of his body a stark contrast to your softer curves.

"Yes," he rasped, his voice thick with need. "Let us try again. Together."

With that, he captured your mouth in a searing kiss, his tongue delving deep to claim you, to merge your essence with his own. It's a kiss born of passion, of desperation, of a fierce determination to conceive, to create life amidst the chaos of the imperial court.

As he kissed you, his hands roamed your body, mapping every inch of you, committing your shape to memory.

Your bodies entwined like living vines, twisting and turning until you're pressed against the stone wall, his weight pinning you in place. The heat between you is almost palpable, a living thing that pulses and throbs with every beat of your hearts.

Geta's hands slid beneath your tunic, his calloused palms grazing the sensitive skin of your stomach as he explores the contours of your body. His touch was reverent, almost worshipful, as if he's rediscovering you anew with each passing moment.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured against your lips, his breath hot and urgent. "So perfect. I want to worship every inch of you, to show you how much you mean to me."

And then, with a growl of primal need, he tears away your clothing, baring you to his hungry gaze.

As you stand before him, naked and trembling with anticipation, Geta's eyes drink in the sight of you, his gaze a physical touch that sends shivers down your spine. He reaches out, tracing the curve of your breast with a single finger, watching intently as your nipple hardens under his touch.

"You're exquisite," he whispered, his voice a low purr of admiration. "A goddess among mortals."

With that, he lowered his head, capturing your pert nipple between his lips. He suckles gently at first, then with increasing fervour, his tongue swirling around the sensitive bud as his hands roam over your body, kneading your flesh, teasing your other nipple into a similar state of arousal.

As he worshipped your breasts, his free hand ventures lower, dipping between your thighs to find the slick heat of your arousal.

Geta groaned into your breast, the vibrations sending jolts of pleasure through you as he feels the evidence of your desire coating his fingers. He strokes you slowly, deliberately, savouring the feel of your wetness as he continues to lavish attention on your nipples.

"You're so ready for me," he murmured, his voice muffled against your skin. "So eager to take my seed, to bear my children."

With that, he released your breast and steps back, his dark eyes blazing with hunger as he strips off his own garments. His body is a work of art, all chiselled muscle and taut skin, adorned with the symbols of his power- the golden Toric around his neck, the intricate tattoos that cover his arms and torso.

As Geta stepped toward you, his massive erection jutting proudly from his groin, you couldn't help but marvel at the sheer size of him. He towered over you, a dominating presence that fills the room with an aura of raw masculinity.

But despite his intimidating stature, there's a tenderness in his gaze as he looks at you, a vulnerability that speaks to the depth of his feelings for you. In this moment, he's not the ruthless emperor, but a man stripped bare, laying his heart open for you to see.

Without a word, he lifted you into his arms, carrying you towards the ornate bed that dominates one corner of the chamber. The silk sheets were already rumpled, a testament to previous encounters that have left the bed looking invitingly dishevelled.

As Geta layed you down on the plush bed, the cool silk a soothing contrast to the feverish heat of your skin, you can't help but admire the way he moves with deliberate purpose. Every step, every gesture, exudes confidence and control, the hallmarks of a man who is used to getting what he wants.

He followed you onto the bed, his large frame crowding yours as he settles between your legs. The weight of him is comforting, reassuring, as if he's shielding you from the world outside these four walls.

"Geta…" you breathe, reaching up to stroke his face, your fingertips tracing the strong lines of his jaw. "Make love to me. Fill me with your seed and let the gods decide our fate."

Your words seem to ignite something within him, a spark of primal desire that consumes them both.

With a guttural growl, Geta claims your mouth in a bruising kiss, his tongue plunging deep to stake his claim. His hands roam your body, gripping and kneading, as if trying to brand you with his touch.

Breaking the kiss, he trailed his lips down your neck, nipping and sucking at the tender skin, leaving a trail of red marks in his wake. His teeth graze your collarbone before moving lower to the swell of your breasts.

He took a nipple into his mouth once more, suckling hard as his fingers pinch and roll the other, sending jolts of pleasure-pain through you. All the while, his hips grind against yours, the thick length of his cock rubbing maddeningly against your slick folds.

"Please," you whimpered, arching into him, desperate for more.

Geta released your breast with a wet pop, his chest heaving with exertion and desire. His eyes, dark with lust, lock onto yours as he positions himself at your entrance.

"I'll give you everything," he vowed, his voice rough with need. "Everything you crave, everything you need."

With that, he thrusted forward, sheathing himself inside you in one powerful stroke. You cry out at the sudden intrusion, your body stretching to accommodate his girth. But the pain is short-lived, replaced by a wave of pleasure as he begins to move, his hips snapping against yours in a relentless rhythm.

Geta set a punishing pace, driving into you again and again, each thrust hitting that sweet spot deep within you. The bed creaks and shakes beneath you, the sound of slapping flesh filling the room as he takes you with primal abandon.

As Geta pounded into you, the force of his thrusts causing the bed to rock violently, you cling to him desperately, your nails digging into his back as you're driven higher and higher on the crest of ecstasy.

The sensation of being filled so completely, of having your deepest depths claimed and conquered, is overwhelming. Each stroke seems to reach further inside you, stroking the very core of your being, until you feel like you might shatter apart at any moment.

"More!" you screamed, your voice lost in the cacophony of grunts and moans that fill the room. "Give me more!"

Geta responded with a feral snarl, his movements becoming even more brutal, more frenzied. He leans down to capture your lips in a savage kiss, swallowing your cries as he drives you mercilessly towards the brink of climax.

Geta's kiss turned possessive, claiming your mouth as surely as his body claims yours. His tongue delves deep, tangling with yours in a dance of dominance and desire. The taste of you is intoxicating, fueling his own rising frenzy.

His hands gripped your hips, holding you in place as he pistons into you with unrelenting intensity. The bed frame creaks ominously, threatening to give way under the force of their coupling.

Suddenly, Geta breaks the kiss, his head thrown back in a roar of triumph as he feels your inner muscles clenching around him.

"Yes!" he bellowed, his voice echoing off the stone walls. "Take it! Take my cum!"

With a final, brutal thrust, he buries himself to the hilt, his cock pulsing as he spills his essence deep within you.

As Geta's hot seed floods your womb, you feel yourself convulsing around him, your own orgasm crashing over you in waves of intense pleasure. Your body trembles and writhes beneath him, overwhelmed by the force of your release.

For long moments, you remain locked together, your hearts pounding in tandem as the aftershocks ripple through you. Geta's forehead rests against yours, his breathing ragged as he tries to calm his racing pulse.

Eventually, he pulled out of you, his spent cock slipping free with a wet sound. A trickle of his cum escapes your stretched opening, dripping down your thigh. You lie there, panting and sated, feeling the warmth of his seed inside you.

Geta gathered you close, cradling you against his chest as he stroked your hair. "The Gods have to hear that,"

Ⅰ Ⅱ Ⅲ Ⅳ Ⅴ Ⅵ Ⅶ Ⅷ Ⅸ Ⅹ Ⅺ Ⅻ XIII

A few days later, you find yourself in the presence of a doctor, carefully examining you.

You finally bared a child, an Heir. All thanks to Lupercalia

Ⅰ Ⅱ Ⅲ Ⅳ Ⅴ Ⅵ Ⅶ Ⅷ Ⅸ Ⅹ Ⅺ Ⅻ XIII

#Sjskdjdkjd aahh so good!!!#Emperor Geta Fanfics

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sheneedsrocknroll92 · 13 hours ago

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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐔𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐒𝐀𝐋𝐕𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 - 𝐈𝐈𝐈

pairing. emperor Geta x original character

synopsis. The festivities have begun, the royal gardens hosting all of Rome's finest. Acacius' mysterious guest navigates the world of power, spectacle and whispered intrigue.

warnings. violence, misogyny, infidelity, forced proximity, discussions of producing an heir, mental/physical abuse, forced marriage

word count. 3.6K

notes. Bit of a longer one (that's what she said). Also, thanks to everyone who has liked and supported this, I appreciate you 🪄

Part 1 Part 2

The palace gardens shimmered with opulence. Lanterns hung from towering olive trees, casting a golden glow on the crowd below. Nobles and dignitaries wandered through the lush pathways, their silks and jewels glittering under the light. On this night, it was nearly impossible to distinguish emperors from their subjects. Caracalla and Geta blended into the mass, surrounded by Rome’s most influential figures. Only the sycophants swarming around them gave away their status.

Caracalla basked in the attention, his laughter ringing out as he boasted of his latest exploits. Women leaned in to catch his every word, while men vied for his favour with exaggerated flattery. Geta, on the other, smiled faintly at the grandeur, but moved through the crowd with a more subdued air. Though he enjoyed the festivities, his gaze frequently drifted over the attendees, as though his mind was elsewhere.

At the garden’s edge, Acacius, Lucilla, and their mysterious guest wandered up the grand marble staircase. The woman’s eyes widened as she took in the spectacle before her. Her breath caught at the sight of the sprawling gardens the elegant courtiers, and the lively hum of conversation.

Acacius leaned in close, his voice low but firm. “Stay close to us. Speak only when spoken to, and be cautious of who you trust.”

Lucilla nodded, her expression serious. “These gatherings can be deceitful. One wrong word in the wrong ear can unravel all.”

The woman hummed in agreement but was clearly too entranced by the sights to fully register their warnings. Her fingers smoothed her modest gown, which, though simple compared to the lavish attire around her, carried an understated elegance. She took a step forward, her awe drawing a faint smile from Lucilla.

Before they could guide her further, a familiar voice called out.

“Acacius! Lucilla!” Senator Gracchus, an elderly man whose frail frame was carried with dignity, approached. His richly embroidered toga and silver hair made him stand out even among the elite.

“Gracchus!” Acacius greeted warmly, clasping the man’s hand.

“Always a pleasure to see you both,” the older man spoke, his voice rasping but still kind. His sharp eyes drifted to their companion. His smile faltered for a moment, a hint of recognition flashing across his face. “And who is this?”

“She’s… the daughter of an old friend,” Acacius said smoothly, his tone brooking no further questions.

Perceptive as always, the Senator caught the subtle message. He smiled warmly at the woman, offering a polite nod before speaking again. “I imagine you’ve been through much to find yourself here. Would you care for a stroll? These gatherings can overwhelm even the sharpest of minds.”

The woman glanced hopefully towards her guardians. Lucilla smiled reassuringly. “Go. He’ll show you the finer details of the gardens,” she said gently.

Though hesitant, Acacius nodded. “Better he than anyone else,” he added, his tone softer than before.

Gracchus chuckled. “She shall be returned in one piece.” He said, extending his arm.

She eagerly took his offer, her expression relaxing as she linked their arms and moved into the crowd. Acacius watched them go, his hand holding tightly onto Lucilla’s.

“She’ll be fine,” she said softly. “He’s giving her the best chance to blend in. Besides, she deserves a chance to enjoy the festivities.

“It is not her I mistrust. It’s everyone else.”

———

Gracchus led her through the throng of couriers with an easy grace. His eyes were sharp, darting over the faces of the crowd. Throughout his age, he’d learnt how to point discreetly, murmuring names and titles, occasionally adding a brief note of context for the girl.

“That one,” he said, nodding toward a tall man draped in a deep purple cloak, “is Senator Drusus. He was one of Acacius’ closest allies during his campaigns in the East. A shrewd man, though not as loyal as he appears.”

The woman nodded, taking in his words eagerly whilst her gaze flitted at all the splendour around her. Her eyes had yet to find one thing to settle on. Despite her initial nervousness in attending, she found herself relaxing in the stranger’s company. His gentle demeanour offered a reprieve from the overwhelming spectacle of Rome’s elite. She could tell he noticed her wide eyed curiosity, but he refrained from asking any probing questions. This was a gesture she silently appreciated.

“You’re enjoying yourself,” Gracchus remarked, his tone more observant than interrogative.

She gave him a faint smile. “It’s… a world I’ve never truly been part of. It’s hard not to marvel at it.”

He chuckled, his gaze softening. “It’s as much a performance as it is reality, my dear. The trick is knowing which parts are real and which are mere facades.”

Before she could respond, a booming voice interrupted their quiet conversation.

“Gracchus!”

The two turned to see a middle-aged man approaching, his plump frame and ruddy cheeks betraying his fondness for wine and indulgence. His toga hung loosely around his waist, and a wide grin brightened his face.

“Thraex,” Gracchus greeted, his tone polite but not overly warm. “I see you’re in fine spirits tonight.”

Senator Thraex waved off the comment, his focus already shifting to the woman at his side. “And who is this enchanting creature?” His tone was jovial, but his intrigue was undeniable.

She tilted her head with a polite smile, carefully sidestepping his question. “I was just admiring the gardens,” she said, her voice calm yet bright. “It’s a marvel how they’ve blended nature and celebration so seamlessly.”

Thraex’s eyes narrowed slightly, but his grin remained. “Ah, a connoisseur of beauty. I must show you something more exciting than plants.” He gestured toward a cleared area near the garden’s edge, where a crowd was beginning to gather.

Gracchus frowned, his expression clearly unamused at his suggestion. “Surely you don’t mean-“

“Oh, but I do!” The other man exclaimed, his excitement growing. “Come, both of you. There’s no better way to celebrate Rome’s strength than a good fight!”

Animated, the woman allowed Thraex to lead the way. As they neared the makeshift arena, she saw two men stepping in to the ring, their oiled muscles gleaming under the lantern light. The crowd buzzed with anticipation, cheers and jeers blending into a cacophony of sound.

“One of them is mine,” Thraex said proudly, leaning toward her to be heard over the shouting. “He’s the larger one, there. I’ve placed a generous bet on him, so you must help me cheer him on!”

She laughed softly, her guard slipping just enough to let herself enjoy the moment. “I’ll do my best.”

The fight began with a roar from the spectators, the two combatants circling each other before engaging in a flurry of blows. The woman found herself caught up in the excitement, clapping and cheering as the match went on.

Thraex erupted into victorious laughter as his fighter landed the decisive blow. “I told you, didn't I?”

The woman applauded along with the crowd, her smile genuine. “It seems your faith was well placed. He is a champion through and through!”

“Always is!” Thraex puffed out his chest, practically glowing with pride. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to collect my winnings. A night like this deserves a proper celebration!”

He gave her a jovial wink before disappearing into the muster of bettors, leaving her alone at the edge of the gathering.

She turned, intending to find Gracchus, but he seemed to have disappeared. The bustle of the crowd made it impossible to spot him. Her eyes scanned the sea of richly adorned nobles and eager spectators, but the elderly senator was nowhere in sight.

A sudden dryness in her throat caught her attention, and she realised the cheering and laughter had left her parched. She glanced toward the heart of the gardens, where servants weaved between guests with trays of beverages.

Looking around for him once more, she realised she would not be finding Gracchus soon. With a quiet breath, she stepped into the crowd, navigating the labyrinth of silks and jewels in search of refreshment. The hum of conversation and bursts of laughter enveloped her as she moved deeper into the spectacle.

———

The clamour of the crowd grated on Geta’s nerves as he stood at the edge of the fighting pit, barely paying attention to the cheers and jeers around him. Caracalla was among the throng, roaring with laughter as he clapped a victorious fighter on the back. The sight tugged at something deep within him… Resentment, maybe. Caracalla was free to revel to lose himself in the moment. Geta, meanwhile, felt the weight of every gaze and every whisper.

Without a word, he turned from the pit, brushing off the women clawing at his arm for attention. Their protests were faint noise in his ears as he strode away. Caracalla, hearing the commotion, flicked his eyes towards his brother, before brushing it off and holding an affectionate grip on the fighter.

Geta’s hands clasped behind his back, his mind elsewhere. The distant hum of the fountains drew him deeper into the gardens, away from the suffocating press of people. He wanted quiet, space to think. Or perhaps, just something to break the monotony of this gilded existence.

As he walked, the rustle of leaves and murmurs of more subdued conversations reached him. Near a marble fountain, he spotted a servant balancing a golden tray with a single goblet of wine. Geta slowed his steps, his gaze lingering on the goblet as he approached. Thirst pulled him forward, and he reached out, intending to take it.

But just as his fingers brushed the cool stem, another hand darted in, claiming the cup first.

His hand lingered, lightly grazing theirs for a moment before both froze, startled by the unexpected contact.

Geta’s harsh gaze lifted to meet that of a woman, and for a moment, the air seemed to still. She was striking, with a brightness in her expression, the first shine of light untouched by the jaded atmosphere of the evening. Her simple attire set her apart from the splendour around her, and her boldness was evident in the way she didn’t immediately lower her eyes.

“Forgive me,” she said, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “I didn’t realise there was competition for it.”

Geta blinked, caught off guard not just by her interruption but by the playful tone in her voice. “Competition, you say?” He arched a brow, his initial irritation melting into intrigue. “I think you may find it was my eyes that rightfully claimed it in the first place.”

Her smile deepened, emboldened by his response. “That’s a tradition in Rome, is it not? To claim what is not yours?”

A laugh escaped him, low and genuine. “And where are you from that things are so different?”

She tilted her head, her fingers tightening slightly on the goblet as she looked up at him innocently. “Does It matter? I possess the goblet, so it is mine.”

For a moment, Geta simply stared at her, an amused smirk tugging on his lips. He leaned in closer to her, his voice low and dangerous. “Normally I’d have your tongue for that.”

She stiffened, her smile faltering immediately as she realised she may have overstepped. But before she could stammer an apology, his smirk widened. “But I’ll allow it.”

“How generous of you.” Her shoulders relaxed, though a hint of wariness now lingered in her eyes. She lifted the goblet to her lips, hoping the warm liquid would help set her mind at ease. Her eyes watched Geta over the brim of the cup. Taking a sip, her confidence suddenly wavered, her expression shifting subtly. The bitterness of the wine was not to her liking, though she tried to hide it. She broke her gaze away from his, pretending to turn to look at the gardens, as she slowly let the wine slip back into the goblet, praying to the gods that he hadn’t noticed.

He had.

He let out a laugh in disbelief. “What?” Does our wine not satisfy you either?”

“Much like Rome, it is an acquired taste.” She said lightly, though her cheeks flushed faintly.

Geta’s amused gaze lingered on her, studying the way she carried herself, the ease with which she spoke to him. She was a breath of fresh air in the stifling confines of this world, yet clearly something about her didn’t quite fit.

Before he could press further, a movement nearby caught her attention. The servant who had been holding the tray seemed frozen in place, his wide eyes darting between the two of them. His terror was palpable, his expression one of disbelief.

Her brow furrowed as she followed the man’s gaze, her confusion giving way to unease. Realisation crept over her like a chill. Whoever this man was, he clearly wasn’t just another guest. He was someone important, someone powerful.

She straightened, placing the goblet back on the tray as her demeanour shifted. “ I have been gone far too long,” Though her gaze was thrown to the side, she still spoke loud enough for him to hear. “ Acacius’ must be wondering where I am.”

Before he could respond, she turned and moved away, her steps brisk but not hurried, as though she didn’t want to draw attention.

Geta watched her go, his lips parting as if to call her back, but no words came. She hadn’t gone toward the heart of the festivities, where the wine was plentiful and the company was loud. Instead, she slipped further away, vanishing as easily as she appeared.

———

Wandering deep into the lavish gardens, her thoughts were swirling. The paths seemed endless, twisting and turning as though designed to confuse. The laughter and music from the festivities grew fainter with every step, until she found herself in near silence. She welcomed the solitude, needing a moment to calm herself after the strange encounter.

The path suddenly opened into a secluded grove. Statues stood among the trees, bathed in the soft moonlight. As if brought down from the heavens, the marbled goddesses of Rome held serene expressions and graceful postures, creating a quiet majesty. A compelling force drew her towards them.

She approached the nearest one, running her fingers over the cool stone. It was Minerva, the goddess of wisdom, standing tall with her signature helmet and owl perched upon her shoulder. Her strong figure towered above the girl, and she couldn’t help but stare in wonder at the power that seemed to exude from the statue. Moving only a few feet away, she stopped in front of Venus, the goddess of love. She admired the intricate folds of her marble robe, the confidence in her expression. Then her gaze fell on a statue standing slightly apart from the others. A huntress, with a bow slung over her shoulder and hounds at her feet. Diana. Her lips curved into a small smile.

She stepped back, placing herself on a nearby bench, taking in the scene. It felt like a hidden world, a place removed from the chaos of the party. She closed her eyes and rested her head back against a branch, its green leaves crowded around her hair like a crown.

Just as her shoulders began to relax, a scuttling sound broke her out of her trance. As she scanned her surroundings, a flicker of movement between the trees caught her eye. Her breath hitched. A shadow darted past her, quick and silent.

“Who’s there?” She called, her voice steady but low.

The shadow moved again, this time closer. She braced herself. Suddenly, amongst the pine trees, the source of the movement revealed itself — a small monkey, dressed in a tiny tunic, peeking out from behind a branch.

“Oh!” she let out a soft laugh, relief and amusement washing over her. She murmured, her voice gentle, “you startled me.”

The monkey tilted its head, watching her curiously.

She slowly rose from the bench, approaching the creature, speaking to it as thought it could understand her, “are you hiding from everyone too?”

The monkey jumped down from its position, creeping closer, its bright eyes fixed on her. She crouched down to the ground, holding her hand out. “I won’t hurt you.” She spoke softly.

After a moment’s hesitation, the monkey approached again, seemingly inspecting her hand as if expecting to find something in it. She sniggered, her earlier tension completely diminishing as its tiny nose brushed up against her palm and sent tingles up her arm. “You’re very brave.” She said, admiring it.

The monkey seemed to take her words as an invitation, leaping lightly onto her shoulder. She gasped, startled, but quickly dissolved into another fit of giggles as it clambered around her, chittering happily.

“He doesn’t usually like strangers.”

Alarmed by the new voice, she spun around, though careful not to harm the creature. A man stood between the statues, a wild grin on his face as he watched the scene before him. His bright ginger hair was striking, catching the light of the moon. Something about it tugged at her memory, reminding her of the man she had met by the fountain.

“I didn’t mean to intrude.” She said quickly, straightening herself.

He waved his hand dismissively, stepping closer. “It’s strange. He usually bites new people.” His grin widened as the monkey chirped in response.

She glanced at it, stroking his tiny paw. “Well, maybe he likes the change in company.”

A small chuckle escaped his lips. “Maybe you’re just more charming than the rest of us.” The man replied with a playful lilt.

“You must be his owner, then?”

“Owner?” His expression morphed into one of confusion. “He’s my friend!”

Worried she had caused offence, she smiled widely, playing off her nerves. “Well, your friend has excellent taste.”

He laughed again now, a boyish, carefree sound that caught her off guard. “He certainly does.”

He approached as she stroked the monkey’s fur, marvelling at how relaxed it seemed. There was an air of strangeness to the man, laced into his smile and the restlessness of his fingers. Was this customary behaviour for a man of Rome?

“What’s your name?” She asked, not moving her gaze away from the creature.

“Dondas.”

She nodded, repeating it softly under her breath. Its unfamiliarity set her mind at ease, not having heard Senator Gracchus warn her of any men under the same name.

Watching the scene with a strange delight, the man extended his arm towards the monkey, playing with its small hands. “And yours?” She hadn’t heard his question properly, too focused on the creature that now jumped excitedly on her shoulder. “What do they call you?”

“Diana,” she answered automatically. The moment the word left her lips, she froze, realising her mistake. She inwardly cursed herself, but kept her expression calm, forcing herself to keep a faint smile plastered to her face.

The man raised a brow. “Diana?” He repeated. She watched as his gaze flickered to something behind her, a playful glint appearing in his eyes. “A fitting name!”

Her chest tightened, but she forced a casual tone. “It is just a name.”

The man continued to peer behind her. Suddenly his spine straightened, and the grin on his face wavered. “From where do you hail, Diana?”

Before she could respond, the monkey leaped from her shoulder on to the man’s, causing both to direct their attention towards the small disruption. It jumped up to his head, playing around with his ginger locks. “You are very excitable tonight!” The man laughed, his gaze flickering between the monkey and Diana, a glint of approval in his eye.

“I think the festivities have caused us all to feel that way, Dondas.” She chuckled nervously, wondering what he was thinking. “I must return. The night has been joyous but rather prolonged, they’ll be looking for me.”

Lifting his arm to coax the monkey on to his shoulder, the creature climbed down without protest, chittering happily as he settled. “Allow me to escort you,” the man offered. “These gardens can be a bit of a labyrinth to those unfamiliar with them.”

Diana hesitated, then nodded, believing her denial would only be met with more insistence. “Thank you,” she said, falling in step beside him.

As they left, the man’s eyes flickered once more, lingering on the statues in the garden.

———

Diana hurried through the throng, her steps quick and purposeful as she sought out Acacius. When she finally reached him, she clutched his arm, leaning in close to speak quietly. Her words were far too soft for others to hear, but Geta, having watched the young woman return to the festivities, caught the change in his General’s demeanour. He seemed to freeze, his posture stiffening as her words sank in. Without a word, he turned and began searching for Lucilla.

Geta watched from afar, intrigued at the spectacle before him. Before he could dwell on it further, Caracalla’s voice broke his concentration.

“Brother!” He cried gleefully, his eyes bright with excitement. “Your plan has worked!”

Geta sent him a soft smile, his chest light at seeing his brother so happy. “Has it now?” He turned and stared back at the woman, watching as Lucilla now joined their party. “Pray tell, why do you think so?”

Caracalla, huffing like a child, turned to look at what could be so important. His frustration however quickly disappeared as he spotted Diana and her guardians preparing to leave.

His giggles once more caught Geta off guard, as he watched his brother extend his arm and point at the group leaving the festivities. “Our General has brought us a gift!”

#Sjskdjdjjd need more!!!#This is getting good and very interesting 👀

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sheneedsrocknroll92 · 22 hours ago

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#if that ain't a corroded coffin album cover #<<<<<< Omg IT SO IS 😭😭😭😭#Art

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sheneedsrocknroll92 · 22 hours ago

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JOSEPH QUINN as EDDIE MUNSON in STRANGER THINGS Season Four Chapter One: "The Hellfire Club"

#I need him back 💔#Eddie Munson #Stranger Things #ST4

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sheneedsrocknroll92 · 22 hours ago

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FANGTASIA. send in a character from my guide + one of the prompts below for a drabble!

annnd let's go with... "my mom asked about you the other day." with eddie munson

❤️❤️❤️

good for me

summary: 0.5k

“I’m sure you aced it,” he laughs.

“Don’t jinx it.”

“I couldn’t. Nothing could jinx you and your brain.”

“Yeah, whatever. I’m totally blaming you if I flunked it, now, though,” you scoff, smiling. His laughter rings through the line.

or the one where eddie calls you every day after class.

warnings: none

masterlist

You curl the phone’s chord around your finger, uncurl it, then wrap it tight until the tip turns color. Being away from Eddie was slowly getting easier. Leaving Hawkins for college had been rough, at first, but you were getting more and more used to the idea of living somewhere else, now. Your class load made time fly by a bit faster during the week, your roommate helped keep you busy on the weekends that your boyfriend couldn’t make the drive out, and you never missed a phone call before you went to sleep. Sometimes, he’d even surprise you with a wakeup call on mornings you had class before he had work.

Still, as much as hearing his voice eased you through the time spent apart, it seemed to deepen the ache of not having him near even more.

“How was your test, baby?” he asks. You hear the sheets ruffle on his end and the scent of his bedroom clogs your senses. You never thought you’d miss the way someone’s room smelled before.

“It was fine. I feel alright about it. Won’t really know until I get it back next week, you know,” you sigh, dropping the chord to turn onto your side. You shove your face further into the shirt you’d stolen from him and turned into a pillowcase.

“I’m sure you aced it,” he laughs.

“Don’t jinx it.” “I couldn’t. Nothing could jinx you and your brain.” “Yeah, whatever. I’m totally blaming you if I flunked it, now, though,” you scoff, smiling. His laughter rings through the line.

“Alright, I’ll take that,” he says. The conversation seems to stall, but you don’t mind. You’re content with listening to him breathe, pretending you can hear his heartbeat pulsing through the phone and into your fingertips.

“Baby?” he asks. You think you hear him sitting up.

“My mom asked about you the other day,” you say.

“Did she? What’d she ask about?” Your stomach flutters at the memory.

“Just, the usual, you know? How you’re doing, how we’re doing, if you’re still working at the shop,” you say softly. “Sorry, I don’t know why I brought that up.”

“No, I’m glad you brought it up,” he says. “I’m glad your mom likes me.”

“That doesn’t mean she likes you,” you counter, pausing. “But she does… she likes you a whole lot, Eds.”

“Good, I’m glad,” he laughs, and it warms you from the inside out. You think you could listen to his laugh for an entire day and not tire of it. You think, if you had one wish, that you’d wish for it to be the last thing you heard right before you died.

“She’s happy we’re together… that we stayed together, I mean. After I left and everything,” you say softly. “She thinks you’re really good for me.”

“I think you’re really good for me, too, sweetheart.” A beat passes, thrumming through your bones.

“I’m excited to see you tomorrow,” you say softly.

“Me, too. Are you still leaving after class?”

“One o’clock on the dot,” you chirp.

“Good. I’ll be the one with the cookie cake.” “You’re getting me a cookie cake?” you gasp.

“Why? D’you want one?” you can hear the smirk in his voice.

“Maybe.” “Alright, then I’ll be there with the greatest cookie cake you’ve ever seen.”

#Eddie Munson Fanfics

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sheneedsrocknroll92 · 22 hours ago

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Dear Teddy

Chapter 2

Rockstar Eddie x Best Friend Reader

A/N: we’re skipping ahead now, a few years after the last letter was sent. Also just a heads up - some future chapters will be told from reader’s pov, and some from Eddie’s.

Chapter warnings: 18+ minors dni - drug use

Series Masterlist

————————————💌———————————

Eddie was used to travelling.

For the last few years his life had been a never ending blur of new locations. Hours spent gazing listlessly out at powder blue skies and cotton candy clouds from plane windows. Lonely miles of highway that cut across deserts, or fields, or on occasion through little isolated towns.

Places of little to no importance, tiny blips on the map that lead to bigger and better things. Beautiful, dazzling, overwhelming cities, with their bright lights and towering arenas, packed to the rafters with adoring fans. All there just to get a glimpse of Eddie Munson.

The tires of the taxi thump in and out of a pothole, the vehicle lurching so violently that Eddie’s temple smacks against the window. He hisses through his teeth, and the driver mumbles an apology from the front seat.

Eddie ignores him. Chooses instead to dig in his pocket for the rattling plastic bottle, dry swallowing two more pills. He’s had a headache since he landed at the airport, all the fluorescent lights and booming tannoys fuelling the ache that bloomed in his skull. The half bottle of Jack that he drank during the flight probably didn’t help, not that Eddie was willing to admit that.

Pressing his forehead against the cool glass, Eddie looks through the drops of rain sliding down the window like tears on a cheek. He’s just in time to see the sign, it’s wood rotting and bending, paint flaking and chipping away.

Welcome to Hawkins

Eddie’s mouth is suddenly filled with a bitter tang, his guts churning and palms sweating. Clumsily he wrestles with the handle on the door, spinning it to let in some cool air. The scent of pine trees and damp tarmac fills the back of the car, icy cold droplets now splashing against his cheeks.

He shouldn’t be here. He doesn’t want to be here.

It’s been almost four years since Eddie set foot in Hawkins, Indiana, and if he had things his way that would have been the last time.

But Andy hasn’t given him much choice. Eddie had been backed into a corner, pushed there by the people he trusted most. His friends supposedly.

It was Hawkins or Luxe Recovery and Wellness Centre. And there was no way in hell Eddie was going to Luxe.

“Not long now Mr Munson. We’re about five minutes away.” The driver says over his shoulder.

“Great.” Eddie mutters sarcastically. He rolls up his window, and takes another pill.

————————————💌———————————

Eddie presses a fifty into the hands of the driver as he swings his bag up onto his shoulder. He doesn’t bother listening to the man’s stuttering thanks or well wishes, just turns his back to the cab and makes his way slowly up the garden path.

He’s seen the house before, but never in the flesh. The realtor showed him photos, and Eddie turned down his offer of an in person viewing, just asked where he should sign.

It was the least he could do for Wayne, the man who gave him everything, and who gave up everything for him. All those back breaking shifts put in at the plant, just to keep the lights on and the fridge stocked. Eddie had sworn that when he made it big he’d repay Wayne, give him everything he deserved.

It was one of the few promises that Eddie had kept.

Gravel crunches beneath the heavy soles of Eddie’s boots. Either side of the path is lined with painstakingly neat flower beds, rows of herbs and flowers all perfectly pruned. Each plant is labelled with a small wooden sign, the names written in perfect cursive. Lavender, Basil, Lemon Balm. It’s certainly not Wayne’s chicken scratch. His uncle must have finally got himself a lady friend.

Eddie’s thoughts are interrupted by a low rumbling. At first he glances up, expecting to see a flash of lightening or darkening skies. But the rain is clearing, the late afternoon sun beginning to break through the last of the lingering clouds.

The sound increases in volume, and Eddie realises that it’s coming from the house. A deep growl behind the screen door that’s cut off by a bark so fierce it has him taking a step backwards.

The creature continues to snap and snarl, claws scratching desperately at the wood.

“Ludo! Lu - will you cut that shit out!” A familiar voice shouts.

Eddie feels relief for a brief moment when Wayne’s face appears at the door. The snarling reduces to pitiful whines, and Wayne chuckles as he unlocks the door.

“Brace yourself boy.” He calls.

A blur of gold leaps over the threshold as soon as the door opens, clearing the porch steps in one jump. Eddie tenses as the dog runs full force towards him, it’s solid body colliding with his legs and sending him straight back onto his ass.

Pebbles dig into his palms when he lands with a pained oof, and before he can raise them to shield his face he’s being attacked with kisses.

Ludo climbs into Eddie’s lap, his whole body wriggling with excitement, hot breath wafting in Eddie’s face as his pink tongue laps at his cheeks.

“What the fu-“ Eddie exclaims.

“I told ya to brace yourself.” Wayne grins. He whistles sharply, and the sound has Ludo finally calming. He jumps off Eddie and sits at his side, panting heavily while Wayne walks over, his hand extended to pull his nephew to his feet.

“When did you get a dog?” Eddie grumbles, brushing dirt from his jeans.

“About three months ago.” Wayne answers.

A flare of guilt flashes hot in Eddie’s chest. If he called more, he would have known that. His uncle was too kind to say it, but Eddie knows he must be thinking it.

“Didn’t have you down as the type to get a pet.” He says sourly.

Wayne shrugs.

“Well, it was Liz’s idea. And I’ll be honest, I’m kinda glad she talked me into it. It’s nice having him around. And he sounds like a good guard dog even if he’ll just lick ya to death.”

Liz. Eddie searches back for some memory of the name and comes up blank. Another part of his Uncle’s life he doesn’t know about because he never bothered to ask.

For the first time since arriving, Eddie dares to look at Wayne’s face.

He’s relieved to find that he hasn’t changed much. The lines around his eyes and mouth are a little more deep set, his greying hair somewhat thinner. But he still looks like the Uncle Wayne that Eddie remembers. That kind face, those pale blue eyes. They stare deeply at Eddie now. Probing. Seeking out the secrets that he keeps buried below the surface.

Eddie wonders what his uncle sees when he looks at him.

“Come on in then boy.” He says, turning and making his way back up the steps. Ludo eagerly follows, leaving behind a trail of muddy footprints.

Eddie exhales a deep sigh, pulls the strap of his backpack higher up on his shoulder, and makes his way into the house.

————————————💌———————————

It seems that in the years that Wayne has lived in this house he’s done little to change the decor. The wallpaper and carpets all still match the photos Eddie had seen, the same floral tiles in the kitchen, even the furniture has been placed in the same spots chosen by the previous owners.

There were however small signs of the man who occupied the home now. A collection of mugs lining the shelves in the kitchen. Trucker hats hanging from the walls in the hallway. Framed photos resting on the mantle above the fireplace. A curly haired baby on his mothers lap. A lanky teenage boy with a wide grin sat beside his uncle at a barbecue. A twenty year old wannabe rockstar on stage at The Hideout.

The familiar items do little to ease Eddie’s discomfort. This isn’t his childhood home. He feels oddly stiff and formal, out of place like he shouldn’t be here. If he were back in the trailer Eddie could make his own coffee, then kick back on the couch with his feet propped up on the table.

But the trailer now belongs to someone else. The couch is probably rotting in a dump somewhere. So Eddie sits with his back pressed straight against the wooden chair, watching as Wayne reaches into cabinets and drawers for jars of sugar and spoons, trying to make a mental note of where things are stored. Because unfortunately, Eddie might be here for a while.

Ludo hasn’t left Eddie’s side since they entered the kitchen. He’s one change that Eddie finds himself grateful for. When he twists his fingers anxiously in his lap, that familiar itch growing under his skin, Ludo rests his chin on Eddie’s thigh. Round dark eyes blink up at him expectantly. Eddie runs his fingers through the soft mane of fur around the creatures neck, and feels at least a small fraction of his fears melt.

“He’s taken quite a likin’ to you.” Wayne comments with a smile. He places the Garfield mug, Eddie’s old favourite, in front of him before settling back with with his own drink in the chair opposite.

Eddie nods. He keeps one hand scratching behind Ludo’s ear, the other bringing the drink to his lips. He’s had coffee in Milan that probably cost more than the table he was sitting at, supposedly the finest in the world. It paled in comparison to a cup of joe made by Wayne, lots of cream and lots of sugar, just the way he likes it. Eddie closes his eyes as the first sip hits his tongue. For a moment he’s back home, and everything feels simple again.

“Ludo, huh?” He says with a small grin. The retriever’s ears perk up at the mention of his name.

“Yeah.” Wayne laughs.

“You loved that movie. And it just seemed to suit him.”

“It does.” Eddie says softly.

“So. How’re things?” Wayne asks.

Eddie sucks in a sharp breath through his nose. Ludo, seeming to sense the tension in his body, lets out a quiet whine and nuzzles his face deeper against Eddie’s thigh.

“Fine.” Eddie says.

Wayne winces at his clipped tone.

“Who’s Liz?” Eddie asks quickly, a change in subject that his uncle acknowledges with an arched brow. He gives an equally short answer.

“A friend.”

“Just a friend?” Eddie presses, trying his best to inject a teasing lilt into his voice.

Wayne chuckles and shakes his head. A dusting of pink blooms on his lined cheeks.

“No, not just a friend. She’s… someone very special to me.”

“I’d like to meet her.” Eddie says genuinely.

Wayne nods and takes a sip of his coffee.

“So you’re staying for a while then?”

“I - I don’t know.” Eddie whispers.

“Well you’ve always got a home with me, you know that. Stay as long as you like.”

“Thanks.”

The room falls to a strained silence. The mug in Eddie’s hand begins to shake. He quickly puts it back on the table and hides his trembling fist in his lap.

“Son-“ Wayne starts, with the tone of someone about to ask a question he knows he maybe shouldn’t.

Eddie sighs.

“Are you going to tell me why you’ve come back?”

“Does there need to be a reason?” Eddie snaps.

“No. But don’t you think I deserve some kind of explanation? Look son, I get you’re busy, you’ve got your own life now, I don’t hold it against ya that you ain’t been back here. But now out of the blue you call and say you’re coming home, and then 24 hours later you’re sitting in my kitchen. Somethin’ don’t add up.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say.” Eddie grumbles.

“I want you to tell me what’s got you so worked up.”

“I said I’m fine.”

“And I don’t believe you. You’re sittin’ there lookin’ like a time bomb about to blow.”

Eddie clenched his jaw hard, feeling his teeth grind painfully.

“There’s nothing going on Wayne.” He insists.

Something flashes on Wayne’s face. A brief sadness, or perhaps disappointment. The same guilt from earlier burns in Eddie’s chest.

Because what was he supposed to say?

My friends are all boring bastards who don’t understand what it is to have a good time anymore. We got everything we could have ever wanted and now suddenly they’re too good for it, looking down on me from their fucking high horses just because I want to have some fun. And now our management are preventing us from working on our next album because they’ve got it into their heads that I need to go to some pretentious “wellness centre” full of Hollywood nut jobs, so instead I ran home with my tail between my legs.

“I just need a break, okay? That’s all.”

Wayne opens his mouth. For a second it seems like he might push the issue. But Wayne knows Eddie, or at least he used to. So he thinks better of it, and remains quiet.

The two men empty their cups in silence. When they’re done Wayne pushes back from the table, the chair legs screeching over the tiled floor.

“You’re probably tired from the flight. I’ll show you where your room is.”

Eddie doesn’t say a word. He scoops up his bag from beside his chair and follows down the hall.

“Just to warn ya, Lu usually sleeps in here, so he might try to get in with you tonight. I can shut him in the kitchen if it’s going to be a bother.” Wayne says.

“N-no. It’s fine, I don’t mind.” Eddie says truthfully.

“I’ll let you get settled then.” Wayne says, nodding his head to the closed door on his left.

“If you need anything just shout.”

“Will do. Thank you.”

For a moment, Wayne lingers by the door. When he looks at Eddie he appears torn, and Eddie hates the sadness behind his blue eyes, so close to pity. Wayne raises a hand. Eddie opens his arms just a little, expecting a hug. Instead, he receives a firm pat on the shoulder. As quickly as Wayne’s palm lands it disappears, and he’s gone.

Swallowing down the sting of rejection, Eddie nudges open the door.

It’s a modest size room, large enough for a queen and small bed side cabinets either side. At the far end of the room beneath the window sits an oak chest of drawers. The bed is neatly made with white sheets and a deep navy comforter, the pillows perfectly fluffed and undisturbed. Wayne must not have many guests. There’s evidence of at least one regular though, a dip in the comforter on the far side of the bed, a collection of golden hairs strewn across the dark fabric.

As if to make a point, Ludo jumps onto the bed and curls up in the indent left by his body.

Eddie’s own body aches, his tired limbs desperate to crawl onto the mattress, his weary mind begging for the sweet release of sleep.

But he’s faltering, his bag dropping with a thump to the floor as he glances around the room slack jawed.

With its neutral white walls, perfectly tasteful bedding, and sturdy new furniture, this should be the ideal guest room. Basic and nondescript, lacking the personality one might inject into the other areas of a home. That’s how it appeared in the photos Eddie saw.

What wasn’t here before was the hand painted Corroded Coffin banner hanging above the bed. The collection of Tolkien novels and DnD handbooks lining the shelves. The various trinkets and treasures collected in adolescence - Eddie’s adolescence, that are scattered across the top of the chest of drawers.

Eddie’s initial reaction is fury.

So this is how little faith Wayne had in Eddie’s ability to make it.

He was so convinced that his nephew’s failure was inevitable that he kept his room ready. Even when Eddie’s success had bought Wayne this fucking house, he’d been planning that Eddie would come crawling back on his knees begging for somewhere to go.

In three quick strides Eddie has crossed the room, arm raised ready to sweep the memories clean off the oak surface. He wants it all gone, torn to shreds, burnt to fucking ashes for all he cares. He knew coming home was a bad idea. No matter how far he ran and how much he achieved, Hawkins was always going to be that black pit of despair ready to swallow him whole.

It’s your face that stops him. It’s your face that has him lowering his hand and gently brushing aside the ticket stubs and Palace Arcade tokens.

A strip of photos from the booth in Starcourt Mall. The summer before his big break, when he was still just The Freak, and you were still just you - his best friend. Four black and white images: one nice one, you’d insisted, where you both smiled for the camera like it was school picture day. One with Eddie’s signature pose, both of your tongues lolling out and fingers raised in horns beside your heads. One where Eddie had done his best to climb up onto the tiny stool, miming air guitar while you grabbed at his legs to stop him from toppling over, your face panic stricken.

The final image had been his favourite. You’re caught mid belly laugh as Eddie’s fingers tickled your ribs mercilessly, his lips pressed to the plump apple of your cheek.

He’d taken one strip of photos and pinned it to the wall in his room, next to where his precious sweetheart rested. You kept the other in your wallet, tucked safely away amongst the receipts and bills.

Eddie picks up the strip. The thin paper flutters with the shaking of his hand.

He can picture it so clearly. Wayne carefully pulling the pin from the wall to remove the photos, maybe tucking them in one of his paperbacks to keep them safe. He’d have folded the banner, probably used it to protect all the miniatures that Eddie had so carefully painted, who had also survived the journey from the trailer to this house, and were now proudly displayed in this room.

His room.

Because Wayne hadn’t set this up believing that Eddie would one day need it.

No, he’d done this because this was his home. Not the trailer, not Hawkins, just wherever Wayne was. Wayne was his family.

You had been too, once.

Eddie lets the photos fall from his fingers.

He rushes back to his bag, tearing open the zipper and tossing clothes aside as he desperately digs to the bottom. That pain was back, the one that built in his chest, growing and growing to a crushing weight that made it hard to breath. He needed to make it stop.

Finally, he finds what he’s looking for, his fingers closing around another smooth plastic bottle. Thank god for private planes. And thank god for Uncle Wayne clearly having not spoken to anyone back in L.A., or he might have demanded to go through Eddie’s bag. He could explain away the bottle in his jacket pocket.

These not so much.

Eddie just about manages to pop the cap with his shaking fingers. He taps three pills into his palm and throws them back, feeling them scrape down his dry throat.

He tosses the bottle into the bedside drawer and collapses onto the mattress. Ludo doesn’t seem to mind sharing his bed, and crawls over to rest his head on Eddie’s chest. His weight is comforting. Eddie lets his eyes drift out of focus as he stares at the popcorn ceiling, feeling silky warm fur beneath his fingers. He waits for the blissful peace that comes when the pills finally dissolve into his bloodstream.

The last thing he thinks of before he passes out, is the feeling of your cheek, warm and soft beneath his lips.

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#Noooooo Eddie's not doing fine!! 😭😭😭😭😭#I need more!!!#Loving this already!#Eddie Munson Fanfics

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sheneedsrocknroll92 · 22 hours ago

Text

Dear Teddy

The letters 💌

Rockstar Eddie x Best Friend Reader

Series Masterlist

A/N: Hey gang! I’m very excited and nervous to share my new series with you all. It feels like way too long since I’ve posted about my favourite boy 🖤

This first chapter is told through a series of letters between Eddie and reader, after Corroded Coffin sign their first record deal and head off to LA to begin working on their debut album. Subsequent chapters will be written in my usual style. I don’t want to give too much away, but I have some angsty plans for this story, so this is a heads up that things between Eddie and reader are going to get pretty strained. The series will also deal with topics like substance abuse and grief, so keep an eye on chapter warnings if these are sensitive subject for you.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy it, bye (and thank u for sticking around xxx)

As always my work is 18+ - no major warnings for this one, there’s mentions of drinking and that’s about it. 5k

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August 19th 1987

Hey Sweetheart,

We’ve just got off the phone and I’m already writing to you, but I know it’ll be a few days before this arrives. It was so good to hear your voice. It might have only been a week but I’m worried I’ll forget how you sound.

How are things at school? I hope you’re settling in better now. Have you made any friends yet? You should talk to that girl in your English class. I know you’re nervous but you don’t need to be. Everyone there will be lucky to know you. Just don’t make any friends that are cooler than me!

Things are a bit crazy here. I keep having to pinch myself so much my arms will be covered in bruises before long.

Did I tell you I can see the ocean from my hotel room?

I hope we’ll get to actually go to the beach at some point. We’re so busy with meetings right now, a lot of people to be introduced to, lots of paperwork to sign. We should finally get in the studio next week. I’m anxious about it honestly. I don't wanna blow this opportunity. The rest of the guys don’t seem nervous, they’re all still buzzing. I guess maybe I’m too in my head about it.

Someone’s banging on my door, so I’d better get going. If I get to go to the beach I’ll send you a photo. I know you hate sand, but the water looks so much more blue here, it’s beautiful.

I think you’d like it.

Love Teddy

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August 30th 1987

Dear Teddy,

I got your letter a few days ago. I wanted to write you back straight away, but between classes and shifts at the diner, it’s hard to find even five minutes to myself. Usually I get back to my dorm and collapse onto my bed - I even fell asleep still in my sneakers on Friday night!

It was nice to get to talk to you yesterday, even if it was just for a few minutes. I’m glad things are going well in the studio. It made me sad that you’re feeling so nervous about it all. It’s understandable of course, but I know there’s no way you’ll blow this. Remember that they chose you for a reason, they love you already. And soon the rest of the world will. As Corroded Coffin’s number one fan I can’t wait to hear what you’ve been working on!

Have you been to the beach yet? I spoke to Max on the phone last week, she said the waves in California are perfect for surfing. I can’t imagine you on a surfboard. Now there’s a photo I’d love to see!

I hope you’re enjoying yourself and everyone is treating you and the boys well. I miss you so much already.

All my love, Sweetheart

ps Don’t worry about me making friends that are cooler than you. I’m pretty sure that’s impossible.

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September 10th 1987

Sweetheart,

I still haven’t been to the beach, so no surfing for me. We don’t get a lot of time off, but I’m hoping we’ll get to go soon. Maybe when things have calmed down and you’ve got some time off school you’ll be able to come visit and we can go together. I’ll carry you down to the water so you don’t get sand between your toes!

You’re not as slick as you think you are. Don’t think I didn’t notice that you failed to update me on any friends that you’ve made. I’m sure no one there compares to your rockstar best friend, but please promise me that you’re trying to meet people. You’re so far from home too, and I don’t want you to be lonely.

You’ll be pleased to know everyone’s treating us good. The hotel the label put us up in is real nice, and they don’t care what we order from room service. I don’t want to go overboard but some of the others have different ideas. Gareth threw a party in his room a couple of nights ago and was ordering bottles of Don Perry dom peari fancy champagne. There were too many zeroes on the bill for something that tastes that shit.

I miss you too. I’m sorry I haven’t called recently. I tried last week but your roommate said you were at work. I hope you’re not pushing yourself too hard. When I’m rich and famous I promise I’ll send you enough cash that you don’t have to work another second in that diner, you can just focus on school.

I should get going. If we get our demo finished this week then I’ll try to swipe a copy to send to you.

I promise I’ll call.

Love Teddy

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September 22nd 1987

Dear Teddy,

I should have known that I can’t get anything by you.

I promise I have been trying to make friends. My roommate is nice, but she’s very quiet and other than classes she barely leaves our room. I invited her to a cute little coffee shop I found, but she said she had to study.

Luckily that girl I told you about in my English class wanted to hang out with me, so she came instead. Her name is Eliza. We talked for almost two hours! My coffee got cold but I didn’t mind. She’s really funny, very loud and she talks with her hands a lot like you do. I think you would both get along. I also think you would really like the coffee shop. They sell chocolate chip cookies as big as my head! And they bake them all in house so they are usually still warm and gooey in the middle.

If I come and visit you and we go to the beach, then you’ll have to come visit me here, and I’ll take you.

I’m not surprised that Gar has taken so well to the rock n roll lifestyle! I hope you’re keeping him out of trouble!

I would love for you to send me a tape, just make sure you don’t get in trouble. If I have to wait to hear it that’s okay, I know it will be worth it.

And please don’t worry about me. The diner isn’t that bad. Now that I’ve settled into a routine I’m finding it all easier to juggle. I got my first assignment back yesterday. A-! So all the late shifts aren’t impacting my studies too much.

If you tried to call I think I must have missed you. My roommate didn’t mention any messages being left, but she might have just forgotten. I’ll try to call you tomorrow.

All my love, Sweetheart

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October 28th 1987

Sweetheart,

I’m so sorry for how long it’s taken me to answer your last letter.

All the days feel like they’re blurring into one. I guess I’m not used to being this busy, every day it’s another session in the studio, an interview, a photo shoot.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining. It’s everything I could have ever asked for, and it’s nice to feel like the label are putting so much investment in us, even if it is a lot of pressure. I just didn’t expect all the early starts. So much for rock n roll - they have us up and out the door by 7am most days, I’m not living it up too much. Even Gareth’s calmed down.

I’m glad you’ve made a friend. She sounds nice. I don’t know how soon I’ll be able to visit you, but when I do I’d like to meet her, check out that coffee shop. Although it’d be good to just spend some time with you.

I keep meaning to call, I really do. It’s just I get back so late most nights, and I know you’re busy with school and work and friends. What’s the social life like there? Have you been to many parties?

I don’t have a tape for you yet. The label wants to make some changes, mainly production stuff, I won’t bore you with the details. I promise as soon as it’s done you’ll be the first to hear it. Gotta look after our number one fan!

Love Teddy

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November 6th 1987

Dear Teddy,

Please don’t apologise. I know you’re busy, I don’t hold it against you if it takes you a while to write me back.

How’s the album coming along? You know you can ‘bore me’ with the details, I want to hear all about it. I’m so proud of you, I bet it’s amazing already. It all sounds so cool, photoshoots and interviews - look at me being best friends with a bona fide rockstar! Don’t forget me and the other little people when you’re super famous - haha!

I haven’t been partying much, I don’t want to get too distracted from what I came here for. Plus parties aren’t really any fun without you. I did go to one on Halloween though. Eliza dragged me along with her, to some frat house. It was okay I guess. She wore a cowgirl costume. I dressed as Ripley but no one really got who I was supposed to be. It was a little embarrassing. Someone asked me if I was a frickin Ghostbuster!

I spoke to Wayne a couple of days ago. He said you might be coming home for Thanksgiving! I’ll be back from school for a couple of days, and my birthday falls on the day before Thanksgiving this year just incase you forgot. It would be so good to see you. I miss you so much.

All my love, Sweetheart

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November 20th 1987

Dear Sweetheart,

I could never forget your birthday. I’m insulted at the mere suggestion that I might ever forget it.

I’m sure Wayne’s told you by now that I won’t make it home in time. I’m really sorry. Our manager says we can’t afford to be taking time off right now when there’s still so much to do. It’s looking promising for Christmas though. You best believe I’m gonna give you the biggest hug of your life when I see you.

I hope you like your gift. I practically used half a roll of tape sealing the package up because I was so worried something would happen to it. I’m sorry I couldn’t give it to you in person, but I promise I’ll call on your birthday.

Love Teddy

ps Jeff wants me to tell you that he misses you!

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December 9th 1987

Dear Teddy,

Thank you so much for my birthday present. I love it, I haven’t taken it off since I got it. It’s nice that we have something matching, when I miss you too much I squeeze the pick in my hand and it makes me feel close to you. Sorry, I guess that’s kind of weird.

I missed you on my birthday. I missed all you guys (please tell Jeff and the others I said hi!). I understand you’re busy, so I don’t mind. Steve and Robin took me out for some drinks. It was fun, but it wasn’t the same without you there.

How are things coming along with the album? It must be close to being finished by now. I’m still so excited to hear it.

I’ve only got a couple of weeks of classes left and then I get to come home for Christmas break. I hope you’ll be home then too. It’s been too long since I’ve seen you.

Wayne said we can have our annual movie night on Christmas Eve. He probably already told you that he’s working on Christmas Day, but my mom says you’re more than welcome at our house.

I hope I get to see you.

Love always, Sweetheart

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December 21st 1987

Sweetheart,

I hope this gets to you in time for Christmas.

I know you said it’s okay, but I could hear how disappointed you were on the phone. I’m sorry that I keep letting you down.

The album is pretty much done now, which is a relief. I hoped that would mean we’d get a break, but the label want us to launch straight into promo and a couple of shows in the new year.

It sucks I won’t be home for Christmas. Our manager Andy is trying to make us feel like we’re not missing out too much, he’s booked some swanky place for dinner for me and the guys. It’s a nice gesture, but I’m not sure I fit in at those kind of places. I’d rather be home with you and Wayne. Will you still go spend Christmas Eve with him? I think he’d like that.

I’ll call your mom’s house on Christmas Day, if I can’t be there with you it’ll at least be good to hear your voice.

Love Teddy

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January 3rd 1988

Dear Teddy,

I hope you’re doing okay. I’ve been worried about you, I’ve called a few times but you didn’t pick up. I guess you’re really busy.

Christmas was strange without you. Don’t get me wrong, I had a lot of fun. Me and Wayne had a good time on Christmas Eve, although it was odd without you there. At least we didn’t have to battle to get our share of the popcorn!

It was nice to talk to you. I wish we could do it more often. When we spoke on Christmas Day you said you’d call on New Years Eve. I hung by the phone in Steve’s kitchen most of the night, but maybe you forgot I’d said I’d be there? My mom said you didn’t call our house, but she might have just missed it.

It was a pretty good party I guess. Rob was wasted by 10pm, me and Steve had to carry her up to the spare room. She rang in the new year puking all over the bed! I felt a little out of it if I’m being honest. I’m so grateful to still have her and Steve, but it’s not the same as having my best friend with me.

What did you end up doing on New Years? Did you go to some fancy party? I hope you had fun.

Call me when you can.

All my love, Sweetheart

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January 25th 1988

Hey Sweetheart,

Well it’s all official! Corroded Coffin’s debut album releases in three weeks!

It’s crazy that after all this hard work it’s finally here. Honestly, I’m so scared I could shit my pants. What if everyone hates it? What if it bombs and the label drops us, and I have to come back to Hawkins and carry on being a nobody? Wayne says I worry too much. He’s probably right.

I really meant to call on NYE. I got a little distracted, the label threw this big party and you’ll never guess who was there… Tommy Lee. And he talked to me! Tommy fucking Lee talked to me! He knew who we were, said he was excited to hear the album! Can you believe that?!

We’ve got some gigs booked around LA for when it launches. They’re only small venues, but they’re a damn sight bigger than The Hideout. Our manager said we can invite friends along, but I know you won’t be able to make it with school and stuff. I’ll let you know how they go.

And I promise I’ll send you a copy of the album as soon as I’ve got my hands on one!

Love Teddy

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February 23rd 1988

Dear Teddy,

I got the album! I’m amazed I haven’t burned out the CD I’ve played it so many times.

I’m unbelievably proud of you, of all of you guys. I knew it would be amazing, but it’s better than I could have ever thought!

You have nothing to worry about. Everyone’s going to love it as much as I do. And hey - you’ve got Tommy Lee as a fan now, there’s no better endorsement than that!

I hope you know though, that even if things don’t work out (which they will!) you’re not a nobody. Coming back to Hawkins might not be what you want, but rockstar or not you’ll always be someone special to me.

I hope the shows go well. I’m gutted I can’t be there, just know I’ll be cheering for you from across the country!

Call me when you get the chance.

Love always, Sweetheart

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March 20th 1988

Hey Sweetheart,

I’m glad you liked the album. As our number one fan your opinion is the one I care about the most!

Things are crazy here. All the days feel like they’re blurring into one. We just found out going on tour in April, supporting Scorpions! I can’t believe this is my life now, it’s like I keep waiting to wake up. The first show is in New York. I’ll send you a postcard. We won’t be in one place for more than a couple of days, so don’t worry about writing back. I’ll let you know when I’m settled back in LA.

Love Teddy

————————————💌———————————

April 16th 1988

Sweetheart,

Tour’s going well! Still can’t believe that there are people at the shows who know us, last night the crowd were singing along with us!

Hope school is going okay.

Miss you.

Love Teddy

————————————💌———————————

May 2nd 1988

Sweetheart,

Another postcard for you! Houston this time, we’re here for a couple of days, we’ve got a show on Friday and Saturday night. You should see the venue, it’s huge! I never dreamed we’d get to play in places like this. And with every gig it seems like more and more people know us and actually give a shit about what we do. At the last show in Dallas there were people hanging outside our tour bus wanting autographs!

Sorry I haven’t had a chance to call. I hope you’re doing okay.

Love Teddy

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May 19th 1988

Dear Teddy,

Happy birthday! I know this will probably arrive a few days ahead, but I was so excited when you called to say you were back in LA and I could finally write to you again.

What have you got planned for the big day? Hopefully you don’t have to work, maybe you can finally get to the beach.

It’s nice that you and the guys have finally got a place out there too, at least you’re more settled and no longer living in a hotel. I’ve checked the address so many times because I’m worried about this not getting to you.

Maybe in the summer I can come and visit you? If you have the time that is. I know you’ve got a lot going on.

I forgot to tell you when you called last, but I saw you in a magazine! Robin mailed it to me, there was a review on your album in Heavy Metal. They gave it four stars when it’s obviously worth five, but I can forgive them because I’m just so excited that they’ve featured you. I’ve started checking all the music magazines in the grocery store around the corner from campus every week. I’m going to buy every single one that talks about you guys and keep them. I hope you don’t think that’s weird.

School has been going okay. I’ve made more friends now finally, but I’m not going out too much, what with shifts at the diner and cramming for assignments and tests I feel a bit swamped under. Summer can’t come soon enough.

Will you be able to come home when I’m back? I hope you will, I really miss you. Plus I didn’t want to mail your birthday present, I want to see your reaction in person. I’m keeping it safe until I see you next.

Love always, Sweetheart

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June 12th 1988

Sweetheart,

Thank you for my birthday card! I’m intrigued about this gift that you’re keeping for me, I can’t wait to see it (and you obviously)!

It’s looking like our summer is going to be pretty jam packed. The label is organising our first proper headline tour! We won’t have time to come back to Hawkins but we will be playing in Indianapolis. I’ve asked Andy to make sure there’s plenty of tickets set aside for you and the rest of the gang, I’ll send them to you as soon as I’ve got them.

I can’t wait to see you. It’s been too damn long sweetheart.

Love Teddy

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July 3rd 1988

Dear Teddy,

I got the tickets! I can’t tell you how excited I am to see you again, and to see you guys play. You should have seen the kids faces when I told them, Dustin was practically bouncing off the walls!

Wayne’s taking a bunch of them in your old van, then Steve is driving me, Robin, and the rest of them.

We were thinking of coming in the morning, then we can spend a full day with you. I know you’ll have stuff going on, but hopefully you’ll be able to hang out with us before the show. I’ll call you so we can go over the details.

All my love, Sweetheart

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July 28th 1988

Sweetheart,

Sorry if my writing is kind of crazy, I’m writing this in my bunk. We’re on our way to Ohio.

I’ve got the scrapbook you made me tucked at my side. I like to keep it close, when I get homesick sometimes at night it helps to flick through the pages and see your face. And all the photos with the rest of the gang too. It’s the best birthday present I’ve ever been given, I swear.

Did you enjoy the show? I didn’t really get much of a chance to talk to you. I’m sorry for that. We had all these interviews scheduled and I couldn’t get out of them. I should be grateful really that they even want to write about us, but it gets kind of boring getting asked the same questions over and over again. I’d have much rather been with all of you.

Things were a little crazy after too. I wanted the chance to spend more time just with you, but it’s hard when the kids are all so excited. You know how Henderson gets, he demands a lot of attention!

I hope you weren’t too disappointed. We’ll see each other again soon, I promise.

Love Teddy

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August 19th 1988

Dear Teddy,

I’m back at school now, so when you reply make sure you send it here. I’m rooming with friends now which should make things a little better, although a couple of them are bad influences. I’m going to have so much more work this year, but it’s hard to say no when they keep begging me to go out with them!

Please don’t apologise about the show. I really don’t mind, I know that you were busy and you have obligations. I’m just so proud of you, I still collect every magazine I can find that talks about you guys!

I hope the rest of the tour goes well. I can’t wait to hear all about it.

Love always, Sweetheart

————————————💌———————————

September 28th 1988

Dear Teddy,

I hope you got my last letter. I thought you were getting back from the tour at the beginning of the month, but maybe something else came up. Such is the life of an up and coming rockstar!

How are things? I hope you’re still having fun.

School’s okay, but I’m drowning in essays and assignments right now. It feels like I don’t have much time for a social life, I’ve finally started saying no when the girls ask me to go with them to parties, it’s just too exhausting to balance that with all the work I’ve got to do.

Anyway, you don’t want to hear me moaning about boring stuff like that. I’d much rather talk about you, and all the exciting stuff you’ve got going on.

Call me soon, okay? It’d be good to hear your voice.

All my love, Sweetheart.

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October 20th 1988

Dear Teddy,

Are you doing okay? I don’t want to pester you, it’s just been months since you wrote me back, and you haven’t answered my calls. I don’t even know if you’re at home to get them, I guess you could be off somewhere. Are you touring again already?

I saw you in another magazine. There was a photo of you out with the boys, and you were holding hands with a girl with dark hair and a lot of tattoos. She’s really pretty. You’re not hiding a secret girlfriend from me are you? Haha!

Let me know you’re alright when you get this, just so I stop worrying.

I really miss you.

All my love, Sweetheart

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December 2nd 1988

Dear Sweetheart,

I’m so sorry it’s taken me this long to write back to you. I actually moved into a new apartment of my own, so make sure you send your letters to this address from now on, okay? Luckily Jeff is still in our old place, so he gave me the ones you sent before.

It’s so good to have my own space again. I love those guys, but when you spend months at a time crammed into tour bus with them, it’s hard to then go back to still living with them in the same house. I think it’ll be good for me to be on my own.

I don’t know who you’re talking about in that photo. Definitely no girlfriend here! She must have just been someone we were partying with.

I’m sending this with your birthday present. I’m sorry it didn’t get to you in time, you know how much of a scatterbrain I am, and I’m so busy all the time now it’s hard to keep track of stuff. Did you have a good day?

I’m sending your Christmas present with it too (so don’t open the box with the red ribbon until Christmas Day!). We won’t be back in Hawkins for the holidays this year. Tomorrow we’re heading back to the studio to work on album number 2! It’s crazy how fast the time has passed. It feels like just yesterday I was getting off the plane in LA for the first time, and I was so fucking scared of screwing everything up. I’m not scared of it now, I know what we’re capable of. It’s good to feel so confident about it.

Give me a call soon. I’ll be here for at least the next couple of weeks, so I’ll definitely be able to pick up!

Love Teddy

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December 22nd 1988

Dear Teddy,

It was so good to get your last letter, I felt like I could finally breathe a sigh of relief when I saw it!

Don’t worry about my birthday, I know how busy you are. And thank you for the bracelet, it’s so beautiful, although you really shouldn’t have spent that much on me.

It’s a shame you won’t be back for Christmas, but album number 2 won’t write itself! I can’t wait to hear it.

You asked me to call, but you forgot to put your new number in the letter. If you want to call me I’ll be at my parents until January 3rd, then I’m heading back to school. Me and Eliza are going back a little early. She’s got this new boyfriend who she’s obsessed with, and she wants to get back to him as soon as possible. They’ve invited me to go on a double date, with one of his friends. I’m not so sure it’s a good idea, but I think I’ll feel like a bad friend if I don’t go. But it will probably be a disaster!

Hope to speak to you soon.

Love always, Sweetheart

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January 29th 1989

Dear Teddy,

Happy new year! Sorry I haven’t written in a while, school’s been kind of busy, and I’ve been working overtime at the diner too.

How are things with you? Is the album coming along nicely?

I’m sorry I haven’t called, but I still don’t have your new number. Mine hasn’t changed, but just in case you forgot it, I’ll pop it at the bottom of the letter.

Give me a call if you can. I really miss hearing your voice.

Love Sweetheart

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March 1st 1989

Dear Teddy,

Are we okay? I feel like I might have done something to upset you. It’s been so long since you’ve been in touch. If I have, I’m really sorry. But maybe you’re just busy.

I saw in an article the other day that the album is coming out soon. I didn’t realise it was done. Will you be able to sneak me an early copy again?

Let me know when you get this, I’m worried that maybe my letters aren’t arriving.

Love Sweetheart

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March 23rd 1989

Dear Sweetheart,

I’m sorry I haven’t been in touch more. I feel like all we do now is apologise to each other.

I want to make it up to you.

We’re playing a show in New York, to celebrate the album release.

It’s on April 16th. I’m sending you two tickets, and I’m paying for your flights too.

I can’t wait to see you.

Love Teddy

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April 2nd 1989

Dear Teddy,

Thank you for the tickets! I can’t tell you how excited I am to see you! And thank you for sorting the flights too. They must have cost a fortune, and my tips don’t go that far haha!

I can’t wait to visit New York for the first time. Or to see you guys play again. But most of all I can’t wait for us to spend some time together. It’s going to be the best trip ever.

All my love, Sweetheart

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April 30th 1989

Eddie,

I’ve been thinking so much about what I wanted to say to you. I’ve rewritten this letter a dozen times over, I’ve wasted page after page trying to put into words how I feel. How much you’ve hurt me.

But I’ve realised now how stupid that is. Because let’s be honest, you don’t care.

And so now I’m done caring too.

Don't write me back.

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#WAIT #WHAT HAPPENED IN THE LAST LETTER??!!!#AAAHHHHH I NEED ANSWERS!!!!#Eddie Munson Fanfics

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